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cyanoticfireflies · 4 months

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Hazbin Hotel - Rewatch Thoughts (Episode 1, Part 1)

Notes: As I’ve been re-reading some of my favorite things (as in, not necessarily just fanfics, but other stuff that I enjoy) I got part of the way through @canary3d-obsessed’s “Restless Rewatch: The Untamed” and thought to myself that I should do one of these for Hazbin Hotel! I can’t do a first time reacting to, because by this point I’ve watched it a good eight times -_- But this way I can point out some of the things that I’ve noticed on multiple rewatches, some of which prove just how clever the team behind this show is! Also, you will get unapologetic Huskerdust shipping. This is just my life now.

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Episode 1

So we start off with Charlie giving us the background story on Heaven, Hell, daddy Lucy, mama Lili, and all of that. Heaven was “good,” Lucifer was a dreamer who thought of free will, the elders of Heaven said “nah,” Lucifer said “but what if yea,” and shit went sideways.

As someone who likes watching reaction videos on YouTube, I’ve been surprised by the number of people who have watched this intro and gone “Who’s Lilith?” And then there are the ones who say they heard about her from Diablo 4. I feel like Lilith isn’t… rare lore? I don’t know where or when I first heard about Lilith, but that kind of supports my stance of surprise?

(I tried to show my religious friend Hazbin – leaning on the “it’s about redemption” point – and it was actually the mention of Lilith that first triggered her? Because “you have to get really deep into things to find out about Lilith”? I am confused.)

I won’t go into my theories too heavily at this point – I’ll put up a final chapter for those so I can take it down in humiliation when the show laughs in my face later – but Eve looks very, very evil when she gets that fruit…

Anyway, Luci and Lili got exiled, Luci developed depression, Lili developed magic song powers then fluffed off seven years ago. Don’t worry, Charlie – your mom just went to go get some milk and cigarettes.

Genuinely, is Lilith being a song demon why everyone in Hell has pre-choreographed musical numbers? If she “empowered demon-kind” with her songs, does that include giving them all baby song powers? We know that these songs aren’t reality breaks because at the end of “Loser, Baby” the sharks comment on the song. (There’s also Vaggie and Angel’s discussion in “Happy Day in Hell” but since that’s in-song it feels like a less-strong argument.)

So it turns out that Charlie has been speaking this whole prolog bit aloud to herself. Relatable, girl – me dictating to myself the entire course of actions it takes to get through my email inbox. My officemate wears headphones so she won’t think I’m talking to her when I start talking to myself.

Also, poof – kitty!

I love KeeKee (pronounced “key-key” because, and this is true, she’s a key). But I also don’t know what the point of KeeKee is? If it’s just to give Charlie a pet, that’s totally fine. She also has Razzle and Dazzle, but Charlie could be one of those people with two cats, a full fishtank, a canary, and a husky and that’s totally chill.

(Why yes, my in-laws’ place is a zoo, why do you ask?)

I think I saw somewhere that KeeKee is the key to the hotel? But when Lucifer pops up later he immediately coos over KeeKee like Charlie has had her forever, so she obviously didn’t come with the hotel. Did Charlie change the locks on the hotel to KeeKee-compatible locks after she bought the place? I assume this is a metaphorical key?

(Lucifer and KeeKee in episode 5.)

Vivienne has said that KeeKee is a “physical manifestation of the hotel” but even that doesn’t make a lot of sense with the timeline… *Shrugs*

Charlie and Vaggie talk, and I honestly get so much amusement out of people who are like “Is that her sister? Are they best friends?” And I know that they didn’t, like, make out in their opening scene. But I didn’t ever suspect that they weren’t girlfriends? Maybe it’s just because I read into pretty much all media from a queer lens.

(Right here, ma’am.)

Charlie will go on to call Vaggie her girlfriend much later in episode 5 and make it official-official, but if you don’t go into everything with a straight-is-default mindset I’m not sure how you miss it.

We blip into Alastor’s take on a commercial for a hotel. Which is thoroughly enticing to exactly… Alastor.

(Quick question on the sinner designs – and I won’t stop every time we see a cluster of sinners to do this. But everyone’s design has something to do with how they lived or died, right? Angel is from a “web of crime” family, Husk is an unlucky black cat [I know, he’s a tuxedo cat not a fully black cat], Alastor was shot by a hunter like a deer… was grenade man some type of bomber? A war criminal? What is his story???)

His little hand-drawn picture is kind of cute, but it also makes me laugh because we actually see another character do something similar later on: Vox!

(And, yeah, Charlie obviously.)

I want someone to write the fic where Alastor and Vox’s relationship started in an introductory art class before descending into the chaos we see in episodes 2 and 8.

Vaggie does not like Alastor’s sense of humor and starts yelling at him. Charlie tries the *kindergarten teacher* nice feedback. “I love your use of color,” she says, staring at his construction paper covered in scribbled blobs of blue and orange. “Very creative.”

(“Maybe if you crumpled your drawing into a little ball like this, it would look better in the trashcan, honey!”)

Alastor doesn’t see the problem here. Alastor seems to have exactly zero capacity to accept anything that isn’t Alastor’s way, so this is unsurprising.

And then, with the sultry wail of a saxophone, we’re introduced to the bestest spider (and the only spider this horrifically arachnophobia author actually adores:) Angel Dust

Angel is totally willing to shoot an amateur porno right there on the sofa if it will help draw sinners to the hotel for Charlie.

And this would actually probably work in Hell, honestly. The horniest sinners actually would be knocking the walls down if they thought that with every night’s stay you got a free round with Hell’s most famous porn star. “Cum to the Hazbin Hotel for some ‘quality time’ with our singular resident.”

I am curious what Angel’s concept for his porno commercial was. Just him and Alastor banging dirty on the coffee table in the foyer? Night in the life of the brothel that is Angel’s bedroom?

(Also, I know Val owns Angel in the studio and Angel has some freedom outside of it, but does that include shooting his own pornos? Is it okay if they’re not for money? Or is it still not okay because Angel doesn’t own rights to his own image? Would Angel have to charge so Val could get his cut?)

Charlie doesn’t want to exploit Angel that way, but Angel starts listing off all of his highly exploitable attributes. He lists the legs twice, which is hilarious, but I’m immediately zeroed in on “the gag reflex.”

You’d think that for someone who makes a significant amount of his living sucking dick that it should be “the lack of a gag reflex” but the thing about Angel is that he’s not exactly sucking dick for the nicest guys around. Honestly, the fact that he does have a gag reflex and therefore will be gagging and choking and drooling is probably a turn-on for his usual partners.

We’re interrupted from Angel attempting to “keep going all night, baby,” by Lucifer calling, and the fact that his contact image in Charlie’s phone is a rubber duck in Lucifer’s top hat is honestly too cute?

Angel wants to know why Alastor can’t just make people stay in the hotel. And the timing on this animation is actually a little weird. After he says that he can, Husk chimes in with “Why do you think I’m here?” but Alastor is already moving to see around Vaggie as Husk starts talking. Has he primed Husk to be his hype man if someone starts asking questions like this?

Here's Alastor, looking at Husk before Angel and Vaggie even turn their heads – and Alastor had to move his whole *torso* to see around Vaggie.

A: “Now, remember. If anyone starts asking if I’m big and bad, you say yes.”

H: “Sure, Alastor.”

A: “I mean, I’ll say so first. But then you jump in and talk me up.”

H: “Yeah, all right.”

A: “But, like, right away.”

H: “Uh-huh.”

A: “Should we practice? We should practice.”

I do find it funny that we know the timeline – Alastor, Husk, and Niffty have been at the hotel a week per Vaggie’s words earlier. But Husk is already grousing about them bitching and moaning all the time. It’s been seven days?! How much bitching and moaning are you guys doing?! And it’s not just listening to, like, Angel bitch and moan. It’s “you fucks.”

(Or “you fuck’s” because Amazon doesn’t know how to pluralize a swear word?)

Vaggie didn’t even want a bar, but I’m betting it took her about two piscos on the rocks to be over that.

We also get our official series intro to Niffty here when she says “I like being forced!” in her happy little voice with a wide smile.

(God, I want the Niffty episode.)

Angel starts hitting on Husk, but (YMMV) I feel like at this point Angel isn’t trampling all over Husk’s boundaries the way he does later. He’s just throwing passes and Husk is kind of engaging him? By responding? He threatens Angel, making it clear that the flirting is unwelcome, absolutely.

But I kind of want to see where the conversation would have gone if Vaggie hadn’t stepped in. At some point it might have gotten snappier, but Angel wasn’t in meltdown mode like he is in “Masquerade” so they probably could have kept bickering for a bit.

Vaggie and Angel start talking about the core premise of the show. Is Hell the end of the road? Maybe, but also maybe not. Charlie thinks that it’s worth trying so that’s what Vaggie is going to do.

We as rewatchers know that where you end up in the afterlife isn’t as permanent of an assignment as the show makes it sound. And Vaggie I’m sure highly suspects so as well. This conversation is literally happening with one person who was in Heaven and now lives in Hell.

Though I do have to wonder if there’s a teeny tiny part of Vaggie that hopes the hotel fails, though? If Sinners really can be redeemed into Heaven, then she has to double/triple/quadruple think about what she’s done as an Exorcist. If the Sinners prove irredeemable, it doesn’t *justify* what she did or anything, but it could potentially relieve some of the guilt for her.

(Blake Roman’s delivery on “crack is expensive” is my favorite moment from episode 1.)

If we didn’t know that Charlie was drowning in daddy issues, I feel like we get a good demonstration at the end of her phone call. Yes, she’s excited and happy and hopeful. But she also says “Okay” and hangs up.

Maybe Lucifer said, “I’ll talk to you soon” or something and she said “okay” back. But I never hang up after a call with my dad without a “love you, bye.”

IDK why Charlie calls Vaggie over except to show her hyperactive squirrel brain going wild. Alastor and Angel are staring at them and seem like they can hear every word even after Charlie had Vaggie come around the corner.

Vaggie knows that Charlie means Adam, right? She has to. Charlie says “the leader of the angel army” and as of now, I mean… that’s Adam.

Also, initially I missed the detail that Adam was the one to call the meeting.

Was he going to inform Lucifer face-to-(virtual)-face that they were moving up the next extermination? Do Lucifer and Adam meet regularly? I think not from some of the dialogue in episode 8, but then what is the Heaven Embassy for?

(We'll pick up in Episode 1, Part 2 due to Tumblr's 30 images-per-post limit.)

#hazbin hotel #recap #images #randomness #musings #meta #analysis #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #husk #alastor #niffty #adam #lute

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dangerously-human · 8 months

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3, 26, 50 for the writer ask game :)

Thank you for your patience, I know I took forever to answer all of these but this one took even longer because I decided to indulge myself with ALL the details and that was a time-consuming genuine delight. 😅

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

I am a big fan of playing with metaphor and challenging myself with defined structure. Years ago, I wrote a Continuum fic (Still Here) with POV from every character in the story, with the swaps happening in a sort of chain based on who the characters interacted with - Dillon talks to Carlos, then we're in Carlos's POV until he thinks about Garza, then we're with Garza until she picks a fight with Emily, and so on - all looking at the same theme of how Kiera returning to her time left a hole that deeply affects everyone she left behind. Love giving myself a theme to work around, like chapters in developing relationship fic each based on a color of the rainbow. As is probably quite apparent, I enjoy writing "five times/things" fics and drabbles, and combining the two. Sometimes I go a step further and do the variations on a theme thing for five interconnected drabbles, like the Sparky five senses series. I like giving myself a challenge with fanfiction so it still feels like I'm growing my writing skills, even though a lot of things come easier than with original works.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

Easy, I write fics sans dialogue all the time. I do really enjoy dialogue and I think I've improved my ability to write it a lot, but introspection is still where I thrive.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

Oh goodie, love this question! I'm going to answer 29: What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [Here's a Safe Place to Lay Your Heart Down]? Explain your choices if you want!

I never used to be the kind of writer who had separate playlists for individual projects (outside of the occasional original work), just one massive playlist for the fandom. It's been a fun way to focus on some of the more effort-heavy, long-term WIPs! Here's the one for the ring fic:

The Graduate - The Arcadian Wild: The bittersweetness of growing up and your perspective shifting so you see the world as it truly is, for better and worse simultaneously. "When you were younger, you dreamed of being tall, but you discovered growing up just leaves you feeling small" / "Failing is fruitful, so long as we do not forget to move" / "We are wandering through the wild, we are wondering when not if we'll reach the other side... When we were ever alone? Together we'll make our way home"

Anomaly - Angels & Airwaves: Lockwood crush angst! "I never wanted to say how much I liked you, I never wanted to be one of your sad discoveries" - not feeling worthy of Lucy

Dark Mirage - Matthew Parker, HIDDEN EYES: Lockwood struggling and Lucy feeling helpless. "I don't possess the power to drive off the darkness that's haunting you, I pray the truth gets louder" - Felt fitting for the wallowing portions of this fic, considering Lockwood vastly overestimates his negative effect on Lucy. Also like... this level of angst is exactly what Lockwood is terrified of inflicting on Lucy, it's not actually like this but he's worried it could be if he's not constantly on high alert (which is what Lucy tells him she's willing to do if he ever needs it)

Taxi Cab - Twenty One Pilots: Ooh, this one hits hard on so many Lockwood & Co levels. "I wanna fall inside your ghost and fill up every hole inside my mind, and I want everyone to know that I am half a soul divided" is just such a good way to showcase Lockwood's growth, from the soul divided being between life and death to being part of a whole (with Lucy). The repetition of "don't be afraid" throughout a lyrical story that is so Lockwood all over just. Argh, it's very very hard for me to put this one into words. Like how the "don't be afraid" could at first be giving up but then it's a promise not to. And it gets at the same idea as the books do with Lockwood as both Christ figure and the one saved ("and then I asked them, am I alive and well or am I dreaming dead? And then one turned around to say, we're driving toward the morning sun, where all your blood is washed away and all you did will be undone"). There's a lot of imagery here I associate with the Other Side and the return, and so I connect it with Lockwood sort of dying and, upon symbolic resurrection, choosing a new life that involves opening himself up to Lucy... Ugh, yeah, this one's harder to explain, it just means a LOT to me

Hot Tea - half•alive: Obsessed with this as Lockwood being pathetically in love, tbh ("Wanna be here ar your door 12am and sleeping on your porch until you get in, looking into your eyes endlessly, crawling into your lap desperately"), and "can't afford to lose you any longer" fits very well for the canon era chapter, but also just the warmth of belonging to each other ("Hold you in my hands like hot tea, knowing I'm safe 'cause you want me")? That is always the Locklyle vibe I'm going for, but especially in this fic. Also the line "sip you through my front teeth" makes me think of Lockwood and his blue whale thing, hahaha

Spiders - Bear's Den: I will eventually come back to write the spiders symbolism kidfic that slots in later in this series, which is the only reason I did not end up using these lyrics for this fic despite it fitting the vibe so well. (Love, I'm Trying had at least three WIPs competing to use it as a title for a while there.) But, yeah, the whole thing with spiders as indicative of a haunting lends extra power to this one in an L&Co context, with lines like "I can't take back all the hurt I've caused, everything I love I have somehow lost, it's four in the morning abd the spiders are crawling in my mind, replaying pictures of all I can't undo, love, I'm trying, but I can't oull myself when the darkness comes" - and that being when Lockwood has to learn to go to Lucy, because that's what they do for each other, they pull each other out when they can't do it alone

Rain Clouds - The Arcadian Wild: The growth! While usually I associate this song more with Lucy, it does still work for Lockwood and the guilt he carries, moving from "I'm being shadowed by my past, reminding me of what I was and what I could become" to a sort of conversation of "I need someone to be my guide, listen to my voice, close your frightened eyes, hide behind my love for you, fear's only a choice, one that we all must make someday"

BREAKFAST - half•alive: Chosen as the title source for good reason; this song is all about vulnerability and the mortifying ordeal of being known, and practicing embracing the safety of leaving your heart in someone else's hands - starting out feeling reluctant and even panicky at the idea of openness ("I fled to the walls, yeah, be sure I'm surrounded, where no one can find me") to fighting your instincts and opening up no matter how hard it is, and being met with the reassurance of being seen and loved in all your complexity ("say you're open through tears and trembling, it's a major step, it's okay to fret, here's a safe place to lay your heart down"), and the reminder that messing up doesn't mean you've broken the relationship irreparably ("it's a second chance, it won't be your last"), which is a message Lockwood really needs to hear from Lucy in this fic, as they repeat old patterns with new endings

Lifeline - Angels & Airwaves: The forgiveness and gentleness Lucy offers Lockwood - "We all make mistakes, here's your lifeline"

Your Burden is Mine - Sarah Sparks, Kenny Komatsu: The doing life together part, a reminder that it's pride that intereferes with letting love in - "Don't spare me from anything, your burden is mine" / "Careful, my brother, there on your own, for it is a fool who suffers alone, there's none self-sufficient, only those who try, so swallow your pride, your burden is mine"

TrusT - half•alive: Ooh, this song absolutely messes me up re: redemption, and also unchanging adoration/stability even in the midst of conflict. Lockwood needs to hear it from a romantic relationship perspective ("rest and know the love you hold won't be taken back, no, how sweet the taste of certainty, the gift you gave is safe with me"), but it hits hard for me from a Christian theology perspective - and isn't that just the surprise theme of this fic, the ways marriage is meant as an echo of Christ's love for his bride, the Church. Also fits really well for this in-between space they find themselves in as they have an answer for the Problem yet are still working on the solution ("the tug of war in the now-not-yet... can you tell me why I feel this way? I have faith that the world I'm in will be redeemed again, but there's a weight that I can't explain, so tell me why I feel this way"), which I think is a tension in the background of most of my work in this particular series

The Kitchen - Tow'rs: For the imagery of dancing together in the kitchen as a way of making amends after a fight - "You made me dance in the kitchen with you, if I was the night then you were the moon"

What Home Feels Like - The Afters: Gosh this song is so CUTE, and that is the Locklyle vibe! Just the idea of finding home and belonging with the person you love - "There is no place I'd rather be for the first time in my life, I know what home feels like" / "No, I never wanna leave, 'cause I've found where I belong, this is what home feels like"

Let's Get Married - Bleachers: This is THE love post-trauma song, and fits the warmth of 35 Portland Row so well along with Lucy and Lockwood promising to make it work even when it's crazy hard, because they recognize where they're a little broken but they also believe building a life together is worth it

#personal #writer probs: fanfic edition #lockwood & co

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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 2 years

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Twst Characters and their Government Assigned Mitski Songs

As a Japanese American lesbian it's my duty to assign these characters their songs from our lord and savior Mitski. Enjoy :)

My masterlist containing stories using some of this analysis is here.

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*̩̩̥*̩̩̥ ୨୧ Pomefiore ୨୧ *̩̩̥*̩̩̥

Vil Schoenheit: Brand New City

"If I gave up on being pretty, I wouldn't know how to be alive"

I was stuck between Brand New City and Liquid Smooth- or even Working for the Knife. Honestly the angst potential for this man? Autonomical. I'm thriving.

This line in particular gives my Lush/Liquid Smooth vibes- being at the ripening peak of your youth. Despite the development he does go through during his Overblot arc, I think he does still have this fear of growing old and less desirable, as signified through his reactions when he remains old after escaping from S.T.Y.X.

Especially as someone who is the leader of the Pomefiore dorm- he is seen as the epitome of beauty. I mean it's most of his motivation for doing the things he does, so what happens when he no longer has that asset. Of course, he may remain beautiful on the inside (as Rook mentions), but we're all human- there's a very strong desire in him to stay as he is- hot with smooth red blood and as plump as a ripening fruit. I don't think it makes him any less likeable, I actually think it makes him a lot more realistic to see him this way. I'm sure he'll have a breakdown in his 30s and 40s when his impossibly smoothed skin begins to wrinkle lol

He's forever tethered to prettiness and beauty inside and outside- I don't think he could live with himself if that part of himself withered away.

If you like my analysis of Vil, please consider checking out my Vil x Orpheus MC fic Lasting Spring. It's a Vil x Orpheus Inspired MC, some angst/hurt/comfort, and friends to lovers

Rook Hunt: Pearl Diver

"Those creatures of your working mind, don't fear them or their hunger. Forgive the sea, follow the tide with the monsters on your shoulder. Pearl Diver, dive, dive deeper."

Was between Strawberry Blonde and Pearl Diver, but I felt that Pearl Diver fit him best. He's an aspiring archaeologist, he's a hunter which hops from one shiny thing to another- there's always something that he's chasing for the thrill of the hunt, whether that be uncovering the mysteries of bygone civilizations, or his nimble prey (Leona lol). But this is a ceaseless hunger, a thirst which will never be quenched. And I think partially he knows this- though the adrenaline of chasing down and carving his prey is hollow, it reels him back everytime- never lingering too long on anything.

What better metaphor is there than this shiny pearl, slumbering deep beneath the deep seas that he keeps diving deeper and deeper for? I think partially it's passion but first and foremost it is a youthful hubris, and endless hunger for knowledge that I'm sure many are familiar with during your teens/twenties. I think there will come a time where he dives too deep for his own good- but that won't stop him from plunging back into the ocean to find its beauty once more

I explored this characterization in my Rook x Pygmalion MC fic Pygmalion, check it out. It's got angst, slight enemies to friends to lovers, and a lot of hurt/comfort.

Epel Felmier : Your Best American Girl

"Your mother wouldn't approve how my mother raised me. But now I do, I do."

I think this is one of a handful of Mitski's "hopeful" songs- and one which explores the sociopolitical nuances of love that is rarely explored so beautifully in music (especially because the industry is oversaturated with mediocre white people, cishet white men in particular). But I think for Epel, it signifies a similar journey towards acceptance that is told in his arc

The song it not only touches upon racial differences in dating, but also gender/gender performance (as they often overlap due to cultural differences in gender and gender performance) in its overall message. With a pretty boy who learns to accept that part of himself as an empowering part of his whole- this hopeful line rings wonderfully with his development, as he becomes more comfortable in his background, masculinity, appearance, and strengths.

‧✦‧ Diasmonia ‧✦‧

Malleus Draconia: First Love / Late Spring

And I was so young when I behaved twenty-five; Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child, and I don't wanna go home yet; Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

Was stuck between this and I Don't Smoke, or Washing Machine Heart. Either way he's a huge softie who's been sheltered his entire life so the experience for his first love for him would be as intense as this song. The lyrics tend to swing between a painful yearning for the love to never end, and a longing for the love to end as quickly to cease how suffocating and choking love can be when you first feel it.

First love is something that almost bursts at your seems when you first experience this. And it's the best feeling in the world, because you just so so full with this buzzing lightness you've never experienced before. But you know it'll end because of course fairy tale endings of true love and love at first sight don't exist, so you're begging it to be as painless as possible. For Malleus, I think this is how he experiences first love- as well as his feelings for his family (Lilia, Sebek, Silver). He knows its not going to last the eternity he is cursed with (which becomes evident with the current chapter when Lilia begins to show signs of age), and he wants so desperately for it to stretch as long as it can- but also to end as quickly as he blinks so the pain doesn't leave a relentless aching.

"Tall child" I think also describes him very well. Of course he is knowledgeable of things but he lacks the wisdom people gain from experience and the stimulus of life and tragedy. He's been numbed partially to being alone, and by sort of distancing himself from the people who project the image of untouchable monster to him, he becomes that very thing.

Much angst potential for this man as well. I love.

If you like my analysis for him, you'll like my Malleus x Light Fae MC Spolia series (*^-^*). It's got a lot of art history knowledge (gothic period), some friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, and yearning idiots.

Lilia Vanrouge: Pink in the Night

"And I know I've kissed you before but, can I try again, try again, try again?"

This song is interpreted as a romantic love song as many of Mitski's song are, but I only think that's because there's a misconception that romantic love = most raw and powerful love, and I absolutely do not agree.

He knows that there is an eternity before and after him that stretches beyond the things he loves. He may not be alive to see Silver grow old (or vise versa), or be able to support Malleus for the rest of his life either.

But unlike Malleus, he's come to terms with it, and adheres to a sort of absurdist school of thought. He values freedom and dynamic movement- he allows himself to tether his life with others, while also valuing his own experiences and opportunities. So I think these lyrics pair well with his acceptance of the nature of his life compared to the people he loves, in addition to his philosophy of living.

If you want to see a romantic interpretation of this analysis however- you'll like my Lilia x Dullahan Beloved Thy Name fic. It's got your standard hurt/comfort, angst, and I might make a sequel.

Silver: Crack Baby

"Crack Baby, you don't know what you want. But you know that you're needing it. Yeah you know that you want it.

I think Silver is one if the most emotionally intelligent characters in Twst, maybe next to maybe Carter. So the knowledge that he's likely going to be the one who will leave everyone else behind is something which is cemented into his desires and anxieties that are revealed to us in Chapter 7.

I think he also sort of knows that there's more to his genetic heritage than what is available to him. And in addition to the nature of the environment that he grew up in that instills this very fixed fate onto him- the lyrics parallel well to the permanent cravings, thinking, and power (ie his unique magic that has strong connections to Aurora plus the necklace Lilia found beside him when he first found Silver) that we're conceived before he really came to be as a person.

He lived in the foods far from the castle, he didn't have to become someone who serves both his father and Malleus- but he chooses to because of his permanent fate. The fact that he will be the one leaving everyone is internalized and delegated to his desires to make himself useful, memorable- something of substance for these other lives that seen much more grander than his own. This is why he breaks in Chapter 7, wanting only to be useful and give something to Lilia- the preconceived nature of his life has lead him towards the painful truth, and there's anxiety that lives within him because of his family. But of course, this is because he loves them.

Sebek Zigvolt: Real Men

"Though honestly sir, all I wanna do is get naked in front of you. So you can look me up and down and give me your love for being so good"

So, the Malleus obsession, right? Yeah I think he would absolutely break down if Malleus were to ever get hurt or overblot on his watch. He absolutely hinges his own self worth and life on this man because A) he's part fae so he has the means to do so and B) I don't think he's had a chance to mature in order to cultivate his individual character enough. He's young.

This is from one of Mitski's earlier albums, Lush, so I think it's safe to say that this song is from the perspective of a younger woman than she is in say albums like Be My Cowboy and Laurel Hell. Women are taught to be obedient, to never be questioning to their superiors (men), to give and give and give. I wonder- where did Sebek learn this then? Perhaps his Fae mother? During his training as a guard? When he yells at people to respect and give themselves whole to Malleus, he's merely protecting that learned sentiment outwards. There was probably some moments in his life where he was being told the same exact thing.

So maybe in chapter 7 after Malleus' overblot, be learns to be "someone", to actually learn what he's giving when he says he'll give his all to Malleus.

*:ﾟ+｡　Scarabia .ﾟ･*..☆

Kalim Al-Asim: Francis Forever

I don't need the world to see that I've been the best I can be, but I don't think I could stand to be where you don't see me

I think these lyrics best describe his relationship to Jamil.

He genuinely thinks the world of Jamil, but he's also naive- before Jamil's overblot, I don't really think it ever occurred to him that Jamil had been downplaying his own abilities, or that he had any resentment in doing so, because he genuinely thinks he and Jamil are friends. He doesn't fully comprehend that there's a certain power dynamic between them because the people around him have been accommodating to him his whole life, leaving him in ignorant bliss. He expects Jamil to cook for him and be his vice dorm leader because there's a master-servant pretext he doesn't quite understand but has been benefiting his whole life from, but in turn, he also doesn't really refuse when Jamil also asks him to help out. Which, in Jamil's perspective, I'm sure was even more frustrating on his end cause it really means he's actually just fucking clueless lol.

But I do think after Jamil's overblot and he does come to terms with his position, he still wants to be friends with him. And with the understanding of his dynamic and his own desires to continue a relationship with Jamil- he is definitely willing to sacrifice his own small victories as long as Jamil and him are able to still be together, side by side.

I think the lyrics speak to a more evolved side of Kalim that was not fully developed before Jamil's overblot, and it adds a bit of that bittersweetness thats in their relationship that actually strengths their bond in the end.

Jamil Viper: Class of 2013

"And I'll leave what I'm chasing for the other girls to pursue"

Has got to be one of my favorite songs cause it's so short yet so poignant like it just shows how talented Mitski is with just some simple notes on the piano and a few lines

Anyways apart from my Mitski obsession, this line in particular narrates the slow extinguishing of one's own desires to save oneself from being continuously hurt from preconceived barriers. For Mitski, I think here she's observing an industry that's dominated by white cishet people- and for Jamil, it would be in relation to the social/emotional obstacles correlated with servitude.

However, these feelings rarely die down. They stratify against the pressure of time, and in Jamil's situation, it presents in the form of anger and resentment towards Kalim.

Every moment of his life, he's had to measure and count each movement so his body molds into the image that is desired from a Master-servant relationship- and that initial warmth of personal desire slowly grows onto a bitter flame that wells quietly inside him, until explodes in the form of his overblot.

Now as a communist yeah go Jamil eat the rich ✊️ but I think Kamil is, as previously explained, genuinely naive about his status and the way Jamil has had to live. So I can't say the overblot is not at all unjustified- but the collateral damage is definitely not a great look.

If you liked my analysis of Jamil, you'll like my Jamil x Shikigami MC Merciful Crusade fic. Slight enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, discussion of trauma, with a happy ending.

✦·.⋆ Ignihyde ⋆.·✦

Idia Shroud: Working for the Knife

I always thought the choice was mine, and I was right but I just chose wrong; I start the day lying and end with the truth that I'm dying for the knife

Within the context of Mitski, this song is interpreted to be working for a thankless, unforgiving industry that is dominated by mediocre cishet white people/men, but I think it more broadly it discusses the concept of creation, and the artist's relationship to it.

And broader themes apply to Idia's relationship with the construction of Ortho, or what I imagined it was like. In Chapter 6, Idia mentions something about the human heart- about how it is just a hindrance in comparison to more objective systems of the world- like programming, or robotics. But I think here he's not only referring to Ortho's condition as an AI (as AIs evolve and feed off of information and systems created and use as humans, Ortho becomes sentient), but more importantly Idia's own betrayal of the heart.

On Idia's terms, Ortho's death and creation cannot be associated with much objective reasoning. The reason why the brothers tried to escape in the first place was because of the human desire for more in their life- Idia wanted partially to escape the burden of becoming the head of the family, and both of the brothers obviously wanted more than to spend their life from the prison that the family curse unfortunately shackles them to. Though these are perfectly healthy desires to have, Idia has blamed himself for risking both him and his brother's life before they had properly assessed the phantom situation, in addition to not being able to stop the security breech that ultimately (in Idia's eyes) lead to the death of his brother. For him, this relapse in judgement is purely because he avoided looking objectively at things (which in it of itself, is a subjective thought which I think he understands more after his overblot)- therefore, I think he's created a system for himself where there is a statistically low chance of him failing in situations he is not confident in- like his appearance or his socialization skills. What better way to avoid social ridicule than to avoid socialization altogether? And by lowering his self image by the start- there is no way others can lower it even further. Shut yourself from the world- and no one can disturb the objective fact that you're a good for nothing loser that got their own brother killed. No one can shatter your own reality.

But it's undeniable that Idia is a sort of prodigy and a genius- so he's constantly switching between extremely high and low self perception that sort of parallels his internal clashing between his objective way of thinking, and his own feelings.

But I think after his overblot, he's started to come to terms with this internal debate, and accept the fact that it's alright to feel things, and love for people and the world while maintaining his structure of thinking (he seems to think in connections, rather linearly- which can lead to a lot of conclusions of self blame and pity, but those systems can also be used in other, more positive ways), and reality is really what you make of it.

So I think this part of the song that indicates a melding between dichotomies- of regret, hurt, and blame- but also hope and desire perfectly describes Idia's personality, as well as his relationship with the world.

I think a lot of people who've had to deal with attachment issues and have late diagnosed autism can relate to this sort of journey. His way of thinking (ie being able to make metaphors between real life and video games- thinking in systems of connections rather than abstractly in isolation/linearly) particularly resonates with myself, an autistic, and I think a lot of late diagnosed autistics who are also burned out gifted kids (especially if you're the eldest sibling lmao) can relate to his way of thinking, especially if you're also intersectional.

Idia is seriously one of my favorite characters. Autistic rizz strikes again lmao

Ortho Shroud: Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart

"So I don't blame you if you want to bury me in your memory, I'm not the girl I ought to be- but maybe when you tell your friends, you can tell them what you saw in me, and not how I turned out to be"

Don't worry I didn't forget about our dear sweet boy.

I'm sure when Ortho (the version we see at NRC) was met with some mixed reactions from his family, including Idia. It doesn't take an AI to see that Idia clearly still blames himself for letting the original Ortho get killed- something the current Ortho no doubt at least takes the blame for, because he's not able to live up to the standards of the original Ortho, and make his brother happy again

In chapter 7, he also mentions to his parents "Thank you for treating me as one of the family", so it sort of implies there that he's probably held some guilt before, since Idia has shut himself from the world, and is very outward about his self hatred.

I think after chapter 6 when Idia is able to come to terms with his guilt and way of seeing things, Ortho is able to also have some closure. Rather than viewing himself solely through his brother's eyes, he's able to see himself as an individual. I think his decision to join the drama club shows the evolution he's gone through.

*♡.* Heartslabyul *.♡*

Riddle Rosehearts: Class of 2013

"Mom will you wash my back? This once, then we can forget"

He's the poster child for mommy issues, come on.

He's obviously been through some traumatic shit with his mom, particularly verbal and emotional abuse that has completely shaped his way of attachment and view of himself and others. He holds himself to a high regard because he sees himself as an extension of his mother's (and the queen's) qualities of high discipline and authority- and he holds his mother to a high regard that in turn puts him in a similar, high position. Without doing so, there's probably no way for him to justify the treatment he's had to go through. By viewing his mother as an absolute authority he looks up to, he's able to somewhat justify the harsh standards he was held at, and holds everyone else to (something he shows regret for doing after his overblot). This is why he lashes out so violently when this notion is challenged by others, because that is also putting his mother's treatment of him in question.

Obviously a lot of the respect he has for his mother is born out of the fear that his mother could just be a bad person, someone who does not love him sufficiently enough to treat him with care and softness- but there is also a kind of fucked up form of love in there. Iykyk lol, especially if you've seen the woman your mother was, or see what she's had to sacrifice for you- the way she held you in her womb through the seasons and the hours she's had to push your small body out of you- there's something that wells inside of you that makes you want to be held, and hugged and told everything is going to be okay by her despite all of the burning hate and resentment for the way she's carved these marks into you thay made you feel and see the world with that weeping blood. Then you see her mother, and think- oh. Right.

When everyone goes away for winter break, Riddle tells Trey that he's going to have a talk with his mother- and I think that shows that for him, not all of that high regard for his mother came from fear, and survival- but also, somewhere, love that had traced all the way from his mother, to his body while he was still in the womb, planted deep inside the darkness that lies between where the fibers of our body meet.

This line in particular is heartbreaking because the speaker is asking her mother to face her back, and wash the filth off of her. An act of love, that you can bare to fully face, because of the pain that person has caused.

Ace Trappola

I have no idea for this one. For him and Deuce (also Jack) it's a bit hard because their position in the game is to kind of be the navigators so he kind of lacks enough material for me to make education assumptions of his psychosocial background. If anyone has any ideas please add them below 🙏🙏

Deuce Spade: I Bet on Losing Dogs

"Will you let me, baby, lose on losing dogs?

I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring"

Deuce, again, is also hard to do but I think these are the closest lyrics to what his ultimate intentions are at NRC. He really does want to improve and prove to his mother that he can be a son she can be proud of- but he's consistently trying to fight everyone lol.

He's kind of like Zuko from ATLA lmao. But you can clearly see throughout the game that he feels shame for his past and recent actions of trying to solve problems with his fist, and the efforts he puts into studying and becoming a good student. To him, I'm sure it feels like he's betting on losing dogs- that it is simply within his nature to continue to fuck up.

Unlike the subtext of Mitski's lyrics however, he's betting on those metaphorical dogs because he wants to make his mother proud, rather than placing bets on a losing battle because it makes me feel at least something.

So if you do have better suggestions I'm totally open lol. But this was the only one I could think of (；∀； )

Cater Diamond: Nobody

"And I know no one will save me, I'm just asking for a kiss- give me one good movie kiss and I'll be alright"

When I look at people like Cater, I (not only generally avoid them) but I almost always think "Wow. You're a pretty hard worker. So serious, so frantic." (The word I'm thinking of is 必死 and Google is saying the english translation is "desperate" but thats not quite it.). It does make me want ro break them open a bit- not because I think whats inside is valuable in the slightest, but I'm just curious to what sort of thinks they're working so so hard to hide under all of that "effortlessly likeable" facade that barely veils the attachment issues that runs deeply in their bones. But I wouldn't do that, since it would be too tedious and predictable, haha.

Also probably why he's an easy target for his older sisters to be honest lol.

But I digress. This song at its core is about tethering love solely to the external world (which I think humans can't help but to do and is healthy to a certain extent)- and I think it reflects one of Cater's more hidden issues if mental health and self perception which he uses social media to likely numb.

I think someone on tik tok had a good explanation of this (I forgot their username ( ´Д｀)) but Cater's character shows the lesser known forms of depression/mental health issues where we seek any sort of stimulation (ie love in whatever form, but anyone as long it makes you feel) to battle the numbness and lack of self perception that comes with constantly being under the oppressive pressure of our own psyches.

"Movie kiss" is also language Mitski intentionally uses to emphasize the fact that it doesn't have to be real- it can be a parody of something and completely staged- as long as it provides some sort of stimulation, kind or like social media.

Trey Clover: I Will

"I can at least be neat

Walk out and be seen as clean

And I'll go to work and I'll go to sleep and I'll love the littler things

I'll love some littler things

He definitely has some self blame for Riddle's situation when his mother came to his parents pastry shop. I think it's partially the reason why Trey values a respectable distance between him and others, and also why he undermines his own abilities. He makes a hell or a lot of effort not wanting to stand out in anyone's eyes, because he doesn't want to cause situations like Riddle's- where his position in someone's life results in trouble for them.

He's nice, but he's not necessarily kind, you know? I feel like he spreads himself pretty evenly among people, completing his role within the social spiral so people aren't hurt from his actions or existence.

This line from Mitski kind of shows thay detached nature- he doesn't want to be a bother to anyone so he assumes a sort of detached "mother" position, being generally pretty nurturing and assuming a nice face so he doesn't have to be weighed with that burden of causing trouble for people.

He's pretty normal otherwise 🤷 everyone except Riddle and Cater in the Heartstlabyul dorn is kind of hard to do

I have a Vampire MC fic for him in progress- ill link it when I'm done!

✧*: Savanaclaw ･ﾟ✧

Leona Kingscholar: I Bet on Losing Dogs

"I bet on losing dogs I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side"

These lyrics are a perfect parallel to his personality and self perception.

He's constantly putting himself in a losing position (ie skipping class, not putting his all into academic and sports related activities) because he's let his placement assigned to him at birth seep into all aspects of his life.

He shows a lot of symptoms of depression/a mood disorder like hypersomnia (opposite of insomnia), low motivation, losing interest in hobbies, etc etc because he's constantly been surrounded by the fact that he is the second son- and will for his whole life live in his brother's shadow all of his life. I think he avoids being with Cheka not only because he doesn't like kids (relatable) but also because it's a constant reminder that a literal child will achieve what he cannot just because of his birthright, rather than a test of power or intelligence. But obviously he's adult enough to recognize that his nephew is a kid and he shouldn't be throwing his own shit at a child.

He has no care for people's opinions of him or measurements of his abilities because he already knows people will always see him as a losing bet, that losing dog- so he leans fully into the achetype.

Ruggie Bucchi: Humpty

"All the eggshells are on the ground, and I try, I'm trying to pick them up, but they crack and crumble, it's all too much- too frail for me to touch"

Gah Ruggie is also kind of a hard one

But I think there's a certain self image that comes with being a hyena beast beastman especially with the associations it has within Scar's narrative. He consistently mentions to Leona that they should both play their parts and benefit from eachother. I think there's a part of him that hinges his self worth on his ability to serve people not only because of his socioeconomic background, but also his species. He's had to walk on these fragile conditions of self worth his whole life, which is why he's continuously shown himself to be extremely resourceful, and quick thinking about the people he surrounds himself with that must work to his benefit. He's a scavenger, he has to make do with whatever he can, even if that is feeding off the (literal and metaphorical) scraps.

Not my best work lol. Please let me know if you have better suggestions.

Jack Howl: Stawberry Blonde

"I love everybody because I love you; I don't need the city, and I don't need proof; All I need, darling is a life in your shape- I picture it, soft, and I ache"

Difficult for him because he's so?? Well adjusted?? Lol like just one of those people you see you're just like "Ah wow you really actually had a happy childhood". Like such a foreign concept to the dorm leader/vice dorm leaders who are screaming, crying, vomiting into the void lmao

I feel like these lyrics were to be the case if he ever were to fall in love? The song itself is about yearning for something you can't get a hold of, but the lyrics in the beginning just cry absolute adoration that he values in relationships because he's seen it in his own family. As a professional yearner I can definitely say this boy yearns for sure.

*+:｡.｡　Octavinelle　｡.｡:+*

Azul Ashengrotto: Nobody

"I've been big and small, and big and small, and big and small again- and still, nobody loves me, still nobody loves me."

Perfect for his overblot narrative lmao.

This one is pretty straight forward, I think Mitski not only narrates the dramatic physical transformations that still make her seeming undesirable- but also the radical changes in personality in ego (as in inflated ego, deflated ego).

This works with Azul's backstory since he not only went through a physical transformation that likely fed into his attachment style and the way he views his self worth, but also the personality changes that reflect the gradual repression of these insecurities that lead to his overblot.

The lyrics also imply that there is a certain condition to being loved that the speaker is not able to fulfil. Now for Azul, I think he's able to fulfil that condition by providing contracts to others- but he internalizes that and uses it to fill the hole that is caved within himself due to a lack of self worth and positive self image. He becomes too power hungry because he's obsessed over these external means of validation to replace any intrinsic value that he has not been able to see within himself.

After his overblot I think he recognizes this dissonance between his external personality and internal insecurity, along with his intentions with others' magics that clearly stemmed from an externalization of his insecurities, and he chooses to accept his insecurities (both physical and mental) as a part of himself. Great redemption arc 🤌

If you like my analysis of him- you'll like my Mute Siren MC x Azul Ineffable Bloom fic. Childhood friends to lovers, lots of yearning, hurt/comfort, and also, flower symbolism/hanakotoba.

Jade Leech

Augh Jade is hard too. I feel like he has a very specific, calculated anger that is not very often in Mitski songs. Her stuff is more like eternally cindering flame- his feels more like a surgical needle.

Any suggestions????

Floyd Leech: A Pearl

"There's a hole that you fill, you fill, you fill. Buts just that I fell in love with a war."

This is a bit dramatic for him but oh well lol. Similarly to Rook, I think he's quick to obsess over things. But unlike Rook who will travel to the oceans depths to get a glimpse of that thing- Floyd is someone who, as soon as he's bored, will just shrug and find another thing that interest him. Partially, I think this is a cycle for him that he continues because of the initial thrill of it- and that goes for his relationships as well. With Azul and obviously Jade he's been with most of his life it's a little different, but for others, say, a romantic partner- I think he would definitely have a tendency to sort of love bomb people before one day he gets bored and begins to pick the person apart. He searches for little ticks he doesn't like, parts of their personality thay he finds annoying- and comes to the conclusion that he's simply done with them. And I think the cycle continues.

——————————————————

Live love laugh Mitski ✌️ I use so much of her lyrics in my writing. There were a lot of characters I had several songs for but I kept it to one per character

★彡 Feel free to add your own interpretations and takes!

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buffalojournal · 1 year

Text

Dark Sonnets

The strain persists Like motors on a backpack A grand clock On a grand building Situations determine circumstance They say Like a weathervane Occurring north to south And then south to north As a wolf moves across the tops of trees Even the sun still rises And moms watch the trains roll by Astride a stroller Thinking it might be worth it

Exposition asks only for your hand It leads and parts of you follow An old tree that dies Must be dismantled in stages First the limbs Then the uppermost trunk Then the middle Finally the stump Though best practice Advises leaving it In the ground Until it dies completely And you don’t have to labor Against the resistance of its roots

iii

What does one survive if not themselves Transportation leads to false epiphanies Like jumping jacks at 6am Humping lackluster through another day In the soft times we can bisect the patterns Concatenating pieces that need But the thinnest thread A tiny effort During the shortest time My place among strangers in a dark tunnel I feel most myself in this liminal place The swaying and careening Every white noise The inherent purpose the gathering holds

I want to be more like ground cherries which grow with a thin covering like paper surrounding their fruit and while ultimately doesn't protect it against its vulnerability at least visibly communicates its delicate nature as if to say, I can’t prevent you from injuring me but I can take care to communicate how best I should be handled to anyone who might be paying attention It is impossible to follow a raindrop forever Or separately pool the excess

I don’t know what is important anymore As we wait as we weather Movement is literal and figurative As I mishear, mis-sing if we all have wings We all have nothing in common Other than the plainest facts A 28 hour bus ride from the nearest airport A photo ripped out of a western magazine If I inadvertently look like I belong to one train as opposed to another That I belong to this language in these moments That otherwise belonging is something else A wet shoe in the grass A rubber band which gathers the baby’s hair A voyage through catalogs of photographs

vi.

At a certain point I stopped listening The space between the pauses shorter The similes less like similes No metaphors or only metaphors Only imaginary jet streams of borrowed stories It’s easy to die off that which loves No water no sun Maquettes a common shortcuts Empty and institutional A short cut for what I was meaning to say I don’t want to watch the buildings fall I don’t want to read about the probability Even as I continue to grow larger and more round I am determined to appear take up less space so I have someone else to blame

vii. It isn’t quite as bleak So the path leads into itself So the morning noises are limited The sound of a garbage can rolled down the driveway The bin in the park where people put their dog waste It’s a lot to expect unconditional love all the time A discounted emotion that cites the lost year as its source Is it a matter of question If it’s a matter of question How was, you say, you want more without saying you want more Since the saying betrays a truth that mustn’t ever be revealed At this distance you can see your stupid little life for what it was A bell jar surrounded by wetlands that have no choice But to flood to get your attention

viii.

I want to give you this rock It isn’t a heavy rock You can cup it in the palm of one hand This rock won’t actually do anything It won’t transform your life Allaying your regrets Your remorse for time past It is a common rock One you might find strewn among The rubble aside train tracks I want to give this to you Because even though this rock is nothing special It was given to specifically to you And that’s something

ix. if I don’t journal if I don’t speak if I don’t do the things that I have said I will do if I don’t feel joy if I don’t feel pleasure if I only continue to use this space for what I have learned to use this space for if I never make any bones about it if I don’t think toward you with an old love if I don’t believe that it will be any different if I don’t in fact believe in change or really if I don’t believe in your change if I don’t carefully separate out the contractions if I don’t remember it without the shortcuts if I don’t ascribe meaning to this particular union any longer

🦬 Jackie Clark

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childofchrist1983 · 2 years

Photo

Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is.For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit. - Jeremiah 17:7-8 KJV

Agriculture was so important during the times that the Holy Bible was written, and still is today. Failing crops, drought, and famine could cripple entire kingdoms in Biblical times, so comparisons to crops and trees are particularly useful.

Trust in God and you will grow; this trust will spread roots that spread deeply, strengthening the trust when water is scarce. Your trust in God will bear fruit that others may have, spreading your light and spiritual fruit to others around you. The metaphor made perfect sense at the time it was written and still makes perfect sense today.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time daily to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

Father God Almighty, Lord Jesus, lend me Your spiritual seeds so that my crop may flourish. Forgive me, merciful Father, for the times my faith and obedience has waned, and my roots have not grown deep. Strengthen my core, O Lord, so that I may be nourished and thrive in all weather. The strength of my roots coupled with the spread of my seed shall touch all the environment around me, cleaning it and making it more as You desire. I humbly ask You to strengthen me these days and beyond, together in faith.

You and Your Holy Word and Spirit give us hope, peace, salvation, and so much more! Let our relationship with You be the foundation and pleasing in Your eyes, so that we may hear Your praise as we gaze upon Your face and enter Your Kingdom. Lift our spirits and our hearts. Light up our lives, O Lord. May we abide in You for all our days and beyond!

You are Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End! We know Your promises are true and we place our hope in You! May we continue to pray and seek You. Present us with daily opportunities to go to others with Your message of eternal salvation. May we live our lives with a spirit of thankfulness and may we always magnify You, O Lord. Allow our praises to You encourage others to seek Your face. Help us all to be humble and obedient to You. And help us to be courageous enough to seek You daily and to humbly and faithfully do our duty to You, spreading the truth of Your Gospel to all in all nations, as You commanded before You ascended back to Heaven (Mark 16:15-16). May our lives show the world Your light and Truth and that You are a loving God and Heavenly Father who delights in showing love and mercy. May we all be humbly and faithfully honored and excited to worship, glorify and serve You daily and to do Your will. You have been so good to us, far more than we as wretched sinners deserve. You are so good! So wonderful! Forever and always!

Thank you for keeping me and helping me in times where I am tempted to go astray. Praise be to You today and every day of my life and let me never forget all of the blessings that are given me by You. As much as the enemy will try, he will never be able to successfully breed doubt about who You are into the minds of anyone who truly believes and follows You. And I will follow and serve You all the days of my life and beyond! Thank you for the connection with You that we are given through Your Holy Word and Spirit. Thank you, O Lord, for all Your creation and Your miraculous ways. Thank you for being our stronghold and my refuge. Thank you for seeing us as worth the sacrifice. Thank you for sustaining us, loving us and defining us according to Your will and love for us. Thank you for making sure we are taken care of. Thank you for being the best friend we could ever have! Thank you for Your endless mercy and love that has saved us. Thank you for always protecting us and providing for us and for Your Spirit to help us when we are in need. Thank you for abiding within me and may I abide with You, my Lord. Thank you for giving us a chance to be saved from our sin and spend eternity with You. Thank you for adopting us as part of Your family in Heaven and making us one of Your own. Thank you for being our present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Thank you for always being near and for loving us. Thank you for giving us a reason to love others and so many more reasons to love, praise, serve and follow You. Thank you for Your selfless and sinless sacrifice. Thank you for Your guidance and protection. Thank you for Your Truth and light. Thank you for Your wisdom and strength and grace. Thank you for giving life to the world and to us. You give and take away – And we thank you for it. Thank you for everything! Your will be done! Blessed be Your mighty name! To You and Your Kingdom be the glory forevermore! In Your name we humbly pray, Amen and amen

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dfroza · 8 months

Text

A touch of B&W

do you see how you read but never actually “connect” your thoughts?

(only until you do open up to this inner conversation of the heart)

will you ever “find” me here?

[Monika Kross]

Presque Isle on Lake Superior

#nmu #presqueisle #marquette

1.23.24 • Facebook

Always reaching out from this shoreline…

and do you know our Creator and Father is always on a massive heavenly Throne ruling over Creation and its sacred “Breath”?

just as an immovable and majestic mountain, an unshakable Tree of Life

(Life is a constant and eternal force of nature inseparable from Love)

And Love is constantly True.

and we don’t normally hear God speak, nor do we see Him in His brightness (although people do see the Son as a Man and the 2nd Adam who is also now in Heaven)

but we have the silent and invisible Spirit here on garden earth with us to illumine His thoughts and His Heart inside our own

to offer hope and Light and encouragement for the journey…

(spiritual truth)

i hope to “mirror” this from the open book of my heart and its pure Winter dream by a conserved “seed”

A post by John Parsons:

Today is Tu B'Shevat, the 15th of Shevat, which marks the "new year" for trees...

====

The “Tree of Life,” etz ha’chayim (עֵץ הָחַיִּים), is mentioned ten times in the Scriptures. In the Torah it first appears in the center of the paradise of Eden (Gen. 2:9; 3:22-4), but it is soon lost to humanity because of Adam’s transgression. In the book of Revelation, it reappears in the center of the Paradise of God (Rev. 2:7, 22:2), resurrected on account of the faithful obedience of Yeshua as mankind’s “last Adam” (1 Cor. 15:45). Those who have washed their robes by means of His righteousness are given access to this Tree in the heavenly Jerusalem (Rev. 22:14). The paradise lost by Adam has been regained by the greater ben-adam, Son of man, Yeshua the Messiah.

In the book of Proverbs, the Tree of Life is a metaphor for the life of wisdom (chokhmah), which is the implied subject of our verse above (see Prov. 3:13). Traditional Judaism identifies talmud Torah (the study of Torah) as the Tree of Life, promising wisdom to those who “lay hold of her” (a Torah scroll has wooden rods called atzei chayim – the “trees of life” – used to roll the parchment). According to the Rabbis, the eternal life that was lost in Eden was restored to humanity with the giving of the Torah at Sinai.

A midrash says that in the paradise of olam haba (the world to come) there stands the Tree of Life, with the tree of knowledge forming a hedge around it. Only the wise one who has cleared a path for himself through the tree of knowledge can come close to it (which is said to be so enormous that it would take 500 years to walk around it). Beneath the Tree flows forth the water that irrigates the whole earth, parting into four streams, the Ganges, the Nile, the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers. In mystical (i.e., gnostic) Judaism, the Tree of Life is depicted as an elaborate symbol, the meditation of which is said to “clear the path” back to paradise.

Followers of Yeshua understand that He (alone) is the Tree of Life, the Center of the true Paradise of God (Rev. 22:2). He is the Seed, Root, Trunk, Branches, and Fruit that comes from heaven. The first Adam lost access to God by means of his transgression (eating from the tree of the “knowledge of good and evil”), but the “Greater Adam” reclaimed our access by means of His obedience, resisting the power of evil even to the point of death upon the “tree” of the cross (Phil. 2:8). The resurrection of the life of Yeshua is the “firstfruits” of all who put their trust in Him (1 Cor. 15:20; Jas. 1:18). Yeshua is the “Tree of Life in the center of the Paradise of God,” and all who retain Him are forever blessed indeed. Say ye Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

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Proverbs 3:18 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov3-18-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov3-18-lesson.pdf

1.25.24 • Facebook

we’re being invited into this by the Spirit

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unnamedrat · 8 months

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My reactions and thoughts on @stargirl1331 playlist!

This took so long, I'm so sorry, but I really wanted to review every single song there. My favorites are in bold but like, all of them are so so great.

where did the sun go? by Lor: Such a cool song, wish it was longer <3

Rule #4 - Fish in a Birdcage by Fish in a Birdcage: Ohhhh I love the cover, so pretty. The lyrics are so good: “With his beak he tries to soothe me/He makes me feel that I belong”, such a cool cool metaphor. The instrumental is so jahfkajskajd.

Welcome Home by Radical Face: It sounds so pretty, the lyrics are so warm(? I can only describe them as warm, I'm not really good at describing feelings, lmao.

Breezeblocks by alt-J: I used to listen to this song a lot in 2020!! It's so nostalgic. It might be that my english kinda sucked back then so I didn't fully understand them but I don't remember the lyrics being this good!?? Hello?? Also, the last minute of the song? ABSOLUTE BANGER- PLEASE DON'T GOOOO I'LL EAT YOU WHOLE I LOVE YOU SOOOOO.

Choice by Jack Stauber's Micropop: JACK!!!! I love this man, he's so artsy. His music videos are so akkskakdkq.

The Hand That Feeds by The Crane Wives: I love the title of this one, it's the same as one of Nine Inch Nails songs (they're nothing alike, just the title). Cool guitar. Pretty voice. Ok, this one is so so cool. The lyrics. THE VOICE. THE LYRICS!!!! “He taught me that the hand that feeds/Deserves to be bitten when it beats” AAAAAAAAAAAA Directly to my liked songs.

It's Alright by Mother Mother: Hey, my sister likes this song!! I love the lyrics :)

Vagabond by MisterWives: A pretty cover!!!! She has such a cool voice. I like it, it has a very cheerful tone but the lyrics are so deep and I love them.

Choke by IDK HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: Another song I know!! I really like it. The lyrics, the beat, the vibes, everything.

It's Okay (To Punch Nazis) by Cheap Perfume: Say it louder for the people in the back!

Always Forever by Cults: This one's so nice to the ear. It reminds me in a way of Mars Argo music: not so healthy lyrics and cute sounding melodies and voices.

notre dame by Paris Paloma: The art on the cover is so pretty and nice, I love it. It sounds so soft, kinda comforting, and the lyrics are amazing and beautiful and amazing. It gives Claudine Frollo vibes.

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths: A 7-minute song!!! I love long songs!! The lyrics are so beautiful and sad, yet so important. The french lyrics with the violin in the background parts sound so good, no idea what the man's saying tho.

Tip Toes by half•alive: THIS SONG IS SO GOOD!?!? I LOVE IT

Burning Pile by Mother Mother: One of my sister's favorites, they're a really cool band and have great instrumentals and build ups!!

Never Love an Anchor by The CraneWives: COYOTE STORIES!!! A SHIP LOVING AN ANCHOR!!!! HER CLUMSY HANDS!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alien Blues by Vundabar: Another of my 2020 favorites! I truly don't know why I stopped listening to it because it's great “My teeth are yellow, hello world/Would you like me a little better if they were white like yours?” AAAAAAAAAA such a good song

Which Witch by Florence + The Machine: I love the way this woman sings!! Such a powerful voice and a great beat too! I think my sister likes her? I've definitely seen her in one or two of her playlists. I'm sending her this playlist because I feel like she would like it.

Inheritance by The Last Bison: Cool instrumental!! Don't have much to say about it, my strength is lyrics, but it sounds amazing!

still feel. by half•alive: This song feels familiar?? Don't think I've ever listened to it, tho?? Love the beat, great vibe and just really danceable.

the fruits by Paris Paloma: RELIGIOUS IMAGERY!!!! THE ORIGINAL SIN!!!! THE WASHING FEET REFERENCE!!! THEY EAT HER BODY LIKE THEY EAT JESUS'S!!! AAAAAA THIS ONE IS SO AWESOME!!!

Little Dark Age by MGMT: I already knew this one, I love it. It is so akjdlakfkskd.

Burn Your Village by Kiki Rockwell: IT IS SO GOOD!!?!? Same vibes as some of The Buttress songs. I'm. In. Love.

Abbey by Mitski: Best song of the century.

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men: QKSJJQEJQJDKQKKE THE LYRICS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Home by Dotan: I love the drums. THE BUILD UP!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA It sounds so good. The chorus is so jandladjkaakska.

Dante's Inferno by Whirlybird: Is this my favorite because it uses my name? Maybe... Is it still a good song? Absolutely. Also “the boy who's married to the fire” kakdjajdjakd.

Sunlight by Hozier: “I had been lost to you, sunlight/And flew like a moth to you, sunlight/Oh, your love is sunlight” “A soul that's born in cold and rain/Knows sunlight” AAAAAAAAAAAAA LOVE IS SUNLIGHT!!! LOVE IS SUNLIGHT!! I swear I'm normal about this, not weird at all, a normal human being normal :)

Fourth of July by Valleyheart: A cover of one of my favorite Sufjan Stevens songs!!! It sounds amazing, definitely not as sad as the original (I don't think anything can be as sad as that song) but it's still really REALLY painful. Love the drums.

Apricots by Findlay: Her voice and the instrumental are so lakdkajskaksma. It has a spooky vibe in it, kinda like something that a character in The Nightmare Before Christmas would sing.

Gasoline by Halsey: *2017 flashbacks* Such a cool fucking song. God, I haven't heard this in so long.

Indian Moon by State Radio and Chadwick Stokes: He has such a pretty voice, it's so calm and the lyrics so sweet.

Millie, Warm the Kittle - Dorm Demo by Rabbitology: I love the artist name, so silly :) Oh, the song is so- wow, the instrumental is great, dude. The layers here are sooooo.

Something About You by Eyedress and Dent May: she looks just like a dreamm, the prettiest girl I've ever seeeeen, from the cover of a magazineeeee. A cute song.

Violet by Wild Party: It sounds like a series intro (that's a good thing). The lyrics are so nice, flowers :)

Fall by half•alive: I feel like I'm sounding repetitive at this point but I love the lyrics!!! The instrumental is great!!!!! I just love all to songs in this playlist <3333

Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears: 80s song!!! I love this one. Y'know when you're nostalgic about stuff you never experienced? That's me with the 80s and 90s, this song externalizes that feeling for me.

Foxcry - Dorm Demo by Rabbitology: I'm loving the way this woman produces her song, they are so aksknadnjandna. THE LYRICS!!!!!!! My GOD.

Devil Town by Cavetown: My sister LOVES this song, it's so awesome. The lyrics <3

Saint Bernard by Lincoln: This gives midwest emo but there's no instrumentals and it isn't loud so it feels so odd. Ok, this one hits close to home. Well, at least I didn't went to a catholic school. Saint Bernard as both the dog and the saint it's quite funny.

Ticking by TIN: This remained me of the animation memes, lmao. WAIT- THERE'S WHERE I REMEMBER THE STILL FEEL SONG FROM- ANIMATION MEMES.

Dear Arkansas Daugther by Lady Lamb: The lyrics are my favorite ever <3

Hungry by Dotan: Got distracted, didn't pay attention to the lyrics but it was so calm and nice :)

Cryptid (Mothman) by Ratwyfe: Hehe, rat name :) I kinda relate, I don't hate my body I just don't wanna be human. Idk why, maybe is my alter-human fascination maybe it's my reality disconnection, who knows.

Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives: I love the lyrics! They remind me of Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski but I think it's because everything is a Mitski reference to me.

Washing Machine Heart by Mitski: Speaking of Mitski. I love this one, it has such cool metaphors and the music video is so AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Love her :)

CANDLEBURN - Dorm Demo by Rabbitology: I already know I'm about to listen to the craziest song ever. I'm serious, this woman's production is INSANE. Yep, I was right. “They'll put an apple in your hand, but don't you dare bite it/A match and wick but don't you dare light it” OQJIQJDKWNFKN

Second Child, Restless Child by The Oh Hellos: THE PARABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Don't you just love it when religious bands make songs about religion? So crazy.

Cocaine Jesus by Rainbow Kitten Surprise: I love their voices and how they match so well with each other. This song weirdly reminds me of The Front Bottoms. The religion-love-faith thing happening here is soooooo, he stopped believing in God=he stopped believing in their love and stopped having faith in things getting better between each other.

Inkpot Gods by The Amazing Devil: This one is so personal to me. It's a beautiful song but I'm kinda sad now.

Willow Tree March by The Paper Kites: Such a pretty and calm song.

yeti by Paris Paloma and Old Sea Brigade: I left this one to the end because it's the last one you added :) Ok, so this is a sad song. The lyrics are so beautiful but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

#this was so fun :)#thanks for the amazing music c #i'll listen to this playlist till the end of times #love ya <3 #c tag

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rae-gar-targaryen · 2 years

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swallow you like sunshine when i smile [mickey “fanboy” garcia x fem!reader]

A/N: For Fanboy’s fangirls, I present some reunion sweetness with Fanboy and his cielita linda. Thanks for your patience. More fanboy is coming soon! (Remember, reblogs make the world go round!)

Pairing: Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x fem!reader aka Fanboy x Cielo (no use of y/n – my readers are written ambiguous, but with a latinx!reader in mind.)

Word Count: 8.6k (WHY OH MY GOD THIS WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 2K OF SMUT NONSENSE) of reconciliation, of promises, of cotton candy clouds and sweet nothings that mean just about everything.

Warnings: My writing is its own warning, smut, so 18+ ONLY – p in v sex, the vaguest bit of somnophilia, the vaguest bit of breeding kink, touching, biting, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem!receiving), my usual odd attempts at dirty talk, the barest hint of angst.

Summary: When all the drowsy metaphors about love and fruit have been peeled and devoured, there's just you, your love, a bowl full of summer peaches, two parentheses with nothing in between (just space) ...for the tongue's imagination. AKA you reunite with your love Mickey on his leave. He’s intent on making up for lost time with you. Every moment with him feels like home.

The line crackled in your ear. A tangible noise, a manifestation of the distance and the dated technology that separated you.

He was calling you from a landline. In some distant airport you weren’t sure you were allowed to know exactly where… But the words before the pause, before the crackle, had made your heart leap in your chest.

He was coming home.

“Did you hear me, cielo?” His voice was soft, murmured through the lines and slightly garbled, towers, oceans, and mountains between you. From his mouth, across countries, to your waiting ears. Always low, keeled, and beautiful. No exception, even in spite of the transatlantic call.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I can’t wait, Mickey. I can't wait to see you."

He can't help himself. He smiles into the receiver, though you aren't there to see it. He knows you'll hear it in his voice, picture this exact smile as the one he reserves for you, graces you with it whenever he sees you.

"Hasta entonces, mi alma."

—

"You're walking a little taller than usual," Reuben teases, walking in stride with his co-pilot up the ramp and into the airport’s gate area. "Excited to see anyone in particular?"

Mickey scoffs, rolling his eyes at his partner, nudging him with a teasing elbow as they close the distance between their plane and the gate. “Don’t hate, I’m sure she’ll give you a hug, too, Payback.”

“I’m just saying, man, you’re glowing. Isn’t he glowing, Bradshaw?,” Reuben asks.

“Radiant,” Rooster snickers from somewhere over Mickey’s shoulder. “Practically skipping.”

Reuben takes the moment to hold up his phone and take a quick snap of Mickey’s face as evidence. “See? Goofy-happy. Aaaaaand that one’s going on the story,” he types a quick caption that Mickey is sure he’ll see later before swiping on his screen and settling his phone back into his pocket. “You’ll thank me later. You’ll have a memory of this moment to cherish forever,” Reuben’s eyes flash, face lighting up with his toothpaste-ad smile.

Mickey grins at his partner’s antics, playfully flipping him the bird and shoving him once more as they walk through the sliding glass doors and into the gate area with the rest of the Dagger squad, careful not to crush the small bunch of fiery, sunset-hued marigolds clenched in his fist. His gift to you. A paltry peace offering for all of his time away, he thinks, but they’re your favorite flowers. And fitting.

Marigolds represent power, inner-strength, remembrance.

And not just anyone would wait for him as you have, he thinks. Not any woman would have that fortitude. And you’re his own personal sun, fiery as the blooms in his hand. His day rises and sets on you – the first and last thing to cross his mind each day – especially when he’s away. And he’s thrilled, it’s true. Here he is, seconds away from seeing you, from having you back in his arms … when an unwelcome little twinge of anxiety shoots through his chest, splicing his ribs to take root somewhere to the right of his heart.

What if you weren’t there? What if you’d changed your mind? What if it was all too much? What if, what if, what if —

“M!”

All feelings of anxiety are banished at the sound, and Mickey can’t help himself… The happy shriek shatters his thoughts.

Mickey looks up from the flowers he’s clutching just in time to catch the veritable blur that is you as you jump into his arms and lock your ankles around his waist, burying your face into his neck. The telltale wobble of posterboard met his ears as you dropped the sign you had been carrying, letting it sweep to the floor in favor of twining your arms around his neck.

The force of your body against his was a welcome jolt. And Mickey was alight. Elated at the feel of your person against his once more. If it wasn’t for you in his arms, keeping him to the earth, he thinks he might just float away back into the skies he’s just left.

But you were always good at that – making him feel simultaneously good and grounded, while also feeling like he swims amongst clouds. One of your many confounding abilities, he supposes.

He feels the quick press of your lips to his neck as you’ve burrowed there, and it’s like lightning has cracked through his body at the site, your lips like silken petals along his skin that result in tingling peals. Another confounding thing. Always novel, even if he's felt them on his body hundreds of times. Never enough. Never, ever enough.

Quick as you’d kissed his neck, you untuck yourself from the space beneath his jaw, reveling in the feel of his warm palms bracing against you, keeping you aloft, as you untwine your arms from their wrapped bow around his shoulders. Electing instead to cup the sharp curve of his jawline. And allowing yourself to truly take in the face of your beloved, the man you've missed for months on end…

Allowing yourself to recognize his eyes, swimming in warmth and mirroring your own enthusiasm (you hoped). To trace the features of his face, the curves and angles of his jaw, his cheeks – prominently angled as his mouth curved into a grin.

Granting yourself just a moment longer to bask in the radiant sunlight of your beloved’s smile, equal only to the summery golden-warmth of his honeyed eyes. For what was one more moment when you’d spent so many apart?

And you were glad you had. For you were sure your smile mirrored his own in enthusiasm, though few could smile as brightly as Mickey Garcia.

You trace the curve of his fine-boned cheeks with your thumbs before finally, finally allowing your lips to meet his own.

It’s a feeling he’s gone months without, wants to bottle. Like cheap, sticky soda kisses on a summer’s day at the beach – orange syrup and sunshine promise. Or the feeling of dragging your fingers through warm, soft sand … tingling and comforting, silken. Of the sagebrush scent of summer rain, clean and clear, sharp and sweet. Of sunsets and summer peaches, hued and happy.

He’s just as lost in the feeling of you, as you are in the feeling of him, your lips brushing as though they’ve always been meant for the other’s, facile and complete. His plush lower lip finds its way between yours, and he allows his mouth to smile (always, always smiling with you, isn’t he?) against yours.

As for you …It wasn’t fair, really, how he always made you feel as though you were adrift in the blue-green depths of the ocean. Untethered in cool depths, save for the feel of his hands, his arms wrapped around you – your soul escaping to the sea, ever beneath his blue skies as you found yourself reunited with your aviator.

Far, far too soon, your lips part. And was the resulting sigh yours? His? Or collective and colloquial, the both of you finally relieved? In tandem.

“You’re here,” you breathe against his lips, your forehead resting against his. “You’re actually here.”

“I’m here, cielo,” he murmurs, lips perpetually curved into a smile as they meet yours once more.

A wolf-whistle cracked through the air and the moment, causing you to break apart from your beloved once more, a laugh slipping from your lips as as Reuben’s voice met your ears,

“Get a room, you nerds."

Brushing your nose along the slope of Mickey’s, you press your lips quickly to his once more as you slide from his arms, allowing your feet to meet the floor. Back on solid ground.

You turn toward your approaching friend, and the current source of your playful ire, swatting Reuben’s arm before he swept you into a hug.

“Good to see you back, Reuben,” you say, his frame dwarfing your own as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“You too, pequeña,” he smiles as you wrinkle your nose at this – Mickey and Javy’s ‘little’ nickname for you having stuck, apparently. “You didn’t have to rush to him so quickly, ya know? You could’ve hid a bit. Taken your time, made him sweat. He needs to be humbled,” the teasing lilt of Reuben’s voice warm and pleasant to your ears.

“Don’t be cruel,” you chide your friend. “Or I’ll stop sending you sheet-masks.”

The pilot drew his hand to his heart, as though shot. “Don’t hurt me,” he gasps. “You know it doesn’t have to be like that.” He glances a wink at Mickey over your shoulder as you giggle at his antics.

“Don’t worry, Payback, you know I come bearing gifts.” And you’re rummaging through your purse now, finding the orange-red wrapper you were searching for.

It crinkled as you withdrew it from your purse and dropped into Reuben's waiting hand – a 100 Grand bar. A running joke between the two of you at the expense of his callsign.

“Don’t spend it all in one place, babe,” you reminded as you also plucked a folded piece of notebook paper from your bag and slipped it in his hand to join the candy bar.

Reuben smiled at the sight of the cartoonized version of himself you had sketched onto the paper – a battle-ready look on his little likeness’s face as he flew their spaceship into a dotted, sketched little asteroid field.

“The next edition of ‘Fanboy & Payback?’” he asked, mouth quirked.

“Just a little sneak peek at what awaits them next,” you shrugged, glancing over his shoulder and raising your hand in a small wave as Javy, Natasha and Bob walk by. "The two of you have to blast your way outta that asteroid field to escape the wretched Florgs. Think you're game, ace?"

Reuben laughed.

"Always," he breezed, his confidence seamless, as easy as breathing. Though you knew he'd approach real danger as smoothly, as boldly as your proposed, fictional peril.

You patted his hand that clutched your gifts.

"Thank you, Reuben," you murmur, locking eyes with your love's co-pilot – who, in many ways, felt like he was your co-pilot, too. Your voice cracked with the burbling brook of welled emotion inside of you – the feelings of fear every time you say goodbye clashing like waves with the feeling of relief that your beloved was back, safe before your very eyes.

"Thanks for keeping him safe up there. And getting him back to me. This isn't enough to say thank you, but …" when had your eyes started welling?

"Hey," Reuben sweeps you into another hug, "it's nothing, alright? We keep each other safe. Nothing to get bent outta shape about, okay?”

You nodded, Reuben patting your shoulder as he releases you. Mickey, ever-patient as you greeted his friend, is quick to fill the space, pulling you into his side with an arm over your shoulder.

“Thanks, pequeña. It’s good to see you. Do me a favor and keep an eye on this one for me while he’s home, yeah?” Reuben juts his chin in Mickey’s direction before leaving the two of you with a departing smile, already unwrapping the chocolate bar you had gifted him.

“I won’t let him out of my sight, sir,” you called after him, mock-saluting, before turning and burrowing into Mickey’s waiting arms once more, greeted with the sight of a bunch of orange-hued blooms held in fine-boned hands.

“For me?”

Mickey’s nodded, offering you the fiery marigolds, insides warming at the look of adoration on your face at his gift.

“Thank you, my love,” you murmured. “They’re perfect.” You took the hued florals in a bunch and held beneath your chin to frame your face, striking a bit of a pose for your beloved. “How do I look?”

“Like an angel, mi alma,” Mickey smiled, admiring the sunset-hue of the petals against your skin, its contrast to your smile. How had you only been back in his arms for mere minutes, and it’s enough to make him feel like he’s never left? That’s the atmospheric pull of you, he supposes. So like his very own sky.

You’ve wrapped your arms around his neck once more, reveling in the feeling of him against you, thanking him for the flowers and basking in this moment together, when…

“Told ya,” Rooster whispered into Mickey’s ear as he breezed by the two of you, “Marigolds are her favorite.”

Mickey nodded in thanks at his friend as he passed.

“Good call,” he mouthed.

Rooster grinned before plucking his aviators from the front of his uniform and sliding them up the bridge of his nose,

“Adios, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You waved at Rooster’s exit, gently holding the flowers as Mickey slung an arm over your shoulder, his duffel in the other.

You bent quickly to scoop up the absconded posterboard, tucking it beneath your arm and tucking yourself back into your boyfriend’s side.

“What did it say?” Mickey raised a brow at you, nodding to the posterboard under your arm. Was that the Star Trek font?

“Ah,” you shook your head in mild embarrassment, flourishing the board before the two of you with a hollow, reverberating wobble to allow him to see your greeting of “World’s Sexiest Pilot!” in loud, block letters that did indeed match the Star Trek font – and matched his helmet, in screaming electric blue, embellished with silver streaks.

“It’s a bit much now that I look at it,” you lamented with a sigh. “But I know how the guys get. Egos, and all. I didn’t want there to be any question that it was for you.” You were adorably sheepish about it.

Mickey, meanwhile, tossed his head back with a laugh.

“It’s great, baby,” he reassured, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Though you’re right. Hangman would definitely ignore the design if he thought you meant him.”

“Oh, well, if you think Hangman would like it…” you made to leave Mickey’s hold, making a show of looking around for Hangman, only to turn back to your besotted boyfriend, shrugging in feigned resignation and easing back beneath his arm. “Don’t see him. Guess you’ll do,” you pecked a kiss to his cheek, your own insides warming in kind as you delightedly take in the flush that blooms across the apples of his cheeks.

Mickey guided you toward the airport’s exit, savoring the feel of your side pressed to his once more as you walked, steps in-tandem as always.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered into your ear. “I can think of a few things I don’t think Rooster would do that I’d sure like to.”

–

If you had thought your greeting for your longtime boyfriend was enthusiastic, your golden retriever had put you to shame. Artoo had bowled Mickey over the moment he stepped through the door.

“It’s my fault,” you choked through your giggles as your boyfriend looked up at you from his place on the floor, as your dog relentlessly endeavored to clean Mickey’s ears. “I told him you were coming home today. And you know that I think he can understand us.”

It was silly, Mickey thought, watching you watch him play with the dog, to have been worried in the first place. The anxiety of traveling, of seeing you again after so long. The annoying, persistent little jab of fear that he wouldn’t be able to gel back into your lives – that he had missed too much while he was away… that you had developed a routine without him…. Learned only how to live with the absence of him instead of with him… But it was incredible, he thought – How you were able to make it all melt away as you guided him into your shared space. Into your forever home, together.

Your beachside home smelled just as he remembered it – sun-warmed earth, coffee grounds, and the clear smell of ocean air. The accent wall in the living room was the same earthy, terra cotta color you had picked to remind yourself of gardening all year round, offset by the sweet creme color of the remaining walls and the slate blue of your overstuffed couch. The mirror that hung along one wall still caught the late afternoon sun as it poured in, dazzling the room with beams and prisms of natural light. Your laptop was set up at your workstation in the corner of the dining room table, haphazardly-tossed sketchpad teeming with design proposals. You had left the blender out on the kitchen counter, likely in your haste to get to the airport – the vestiges of your morning protein shake congealing at the bottom. It was lived-in, comfortable, comforting. A space that you had made a home, waiting for him to weave his way seamlessly into when he returned.

“So?” you padded behind him, having left him with Artoo while you had taken his duffel to the bedroom and waited for him to kick off his boots by the sunroom door. You rested your chin on his shoulder and took in the living room from his perspective. “Does it pass inspection, Lieutenant?”

Mickey snorted, turning and guiding your arms to wrap around his waist. “I’d need to see the rest of the premises, I think. Specifically, our bedroom?”

Our.

You quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend. At his sweet smile and swirling, Bambi eyes. The curls you loved to lose your fingers in, loved to braid on lazy mornings together were long-gone, shorn and replaced with a regulation buzzed-cut that you still loved, even if it meant you wouldn’t have hair to tug when… well….

And you'd pondered on the kind of love you'd read about in novels. The sort of novel a sixteen-year-old girl would sneak beneath her pillow, the better to dream of romance with. Like some sort of amorous osmosis. The fact that the man before you personified that rosy, sunny feeling you’d hoped one day to feel – that you’d found something you could recognize in another. Well, you meant to capitalize.

“Aye, aye, sir,” you lilted, propping forward on tip-toes to brush your lips along Mickey’s. “You’re not going to make me beg for it, are you?”

“That all depends on you, cielo,” he rumbled, taking in the sight of you before him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Now lead the way, cadet.”

With that, he gently patted your rear, ushering you forward, down the hall on slippery-stockinged feet to your shared bedroom that he hadn’t seen in months. You were biting back your lilting, champagne giggles as he chased you down the hall, pulling you into your room with him, and toppling the two of you onto your cloud-like, powdery comforter.

“Baby,” you gasped as Mickey rolled himself over you, meeting your lips with his own in a firm, honeyed kiss.

This feeling, so sweet, that you could almost taste it when your beloved slipped his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss, a true saccharine sacrament. And just what type of sweet it was, and how could you describe it…

Mickey kissed like …. Like the feeling of warm honey meeting your tongue when you take your first sip of well-loved tea. Or the feeling of sugar between your teeth as cotton candy dissolves on your tongue – cloudlike, yet textured.

All was sunset-hued as his lips moved over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face, to trace every bit of you, to feel you as he tasted you, caging you into the cotton softness of your comforter as his warmth rolled over you like a summer storm.

And you knew he wasn’t home for good. A sad reality that made you want to savor every moment he was home with you, that made you resolved to taste him, to feel that sugared sweetness as often as you could –

But, as your beloved trailed his hands to your hips to toy with the hemline of the soft cotton t-shirt that you had tucked into your jeans, you knew you had to stop him… at least, momentarily. Lest he get ahead of you when you had planned for your surprise.

“Baby,” you gasped again, palms flat against the starchy front of the uniform Mickey had been traveling in, “I know you’re gonna kill me, but you have to give me a minute.”

With that, you gently pushed, causing his warm lips to part with the skin of your neck – and when had they gotten there?

“Cieloooo,” Mickey groaned, part in exasperation, part in warning, as his hands cupped your waist, his warm skin burning through the thin material of your t-shirt. He brought a hand back up to caress your jawline with the backs of loving fingers, elongating your neck so he could press another kiss there before tucking your chin down to allow his eyes to search your own. “What could be so important?”

“I promise,” you skimmed your hands over his cheeks in kind, drawing him in for another full kiss before gracefully extricating yourself from beneath him. “It’s worth it. Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

With that, you closed yourself into the en suite bathroom, your reunion surprise for your beloved tucked into a fabric drawstring bag you had left for the occasion.

You changed into the lacey lingerie that you pulled from the bag, shimmying your way into the straps and lace that adorned your curves.

Once you were satisfied that everything was in place, you fluffed your hair in the mirror, eager to see your beloved’s reaction.

Before walking through to the bedroom, you rested your ear gently along the door to see if you could hear him, only to be met with the silence of your home.

Perhaps Mickey was patiently (impatiently) awaiting your return with a warm expanse of newly-exposed tanned skin and bated breath. Perhaps he would gasp when he saw you, bedecked in your soft, floral lace. Perhaps he would let you take control, guiding his hands to where you wanted – no, needed them most after months with nothing but your memories of him, your own hands, and the occasional clandestine, dirty FaceTime call. Perhaps he would let you ride him, his hands clasped to your hips, guiding you both to your respective peaks as his mouth trailed every part of you he could reach.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

But what greeted you on the other side of the door was not any of your supposed perhapses.

Instead, your Mickey, having shucked his stiff uniform, which now lay pooled at the foot of your shared bed, had tucked himself into the comforter in preparation for your arrival. His bicep bulged where he had tucked his arm behind his head, all the better to see you with when you emerged from the bathroom…

And there he was, asleep.

You chuckled to yourself, gazing adoringly at the sweet sight of Mickey’s chest, gently rising and falling, his eyes closed, enviable eyelashes fluttering against pretty, prominent cheekbones. You scooped his uniform quietly from the floor and into your closet hamper before turning back to him.

Funny, you thought, as you eased your way in beside him – all thoughts of racy, lacey fun with Mickey slipping from your mind as you allowed yourself to curve around him and bask in his warmth. It was funny how he called you cielo, alma, angelita… when he was the one who looked so like an angel as he slept.

Your last thoughts were of him as you drifted off. And weren’t they always? But the very real feeling of him next to you, of his chest beneath your stretched arm, breathing easily in the restful sleep of someone comfortable at home … It was perfect. As you held him and cuddled into his side, you were struck with how this was so much better than what your mind could conjure in your nights alone.

This was tangible, palpable, genuine.

You closed your eyes against the late afternoon sun and allowed the warm, cinnamon scent of him to invade you, visions of marigolds and planned sunset beach picnics dancing in your head as you gave in to the static fuzziness of sleep.

–

You dreamt of him.

… Were you dreaming? Or was it real?

He hmms into your neck through the smile you know to be there in the darkness of your bedroom – a sweet and honeyed little noise, like the tufty soft buzz of bee's wings. And there, now … you feel his lips part, warm, silken and amorous, before pressing against the column of your throat. Loving the feel of his kisses along your skin, as only his could feel. Radiant and true. You were sure it wasn’t just a dream now…

For you could feel him everywhere. Through your haze of sleep now rapidly-fading. You were swaddled in the dim lighting of the room and the veritable TV static that was the prickling vestiges of your sleep, and your own climbing, buzzing pleasure at Mickey's attentions.

Your love, on the other hand, was wide awake. Surging over you like a wave at sea, gentle at first, and then all-consuming – as though he were a slave to your moon's gravitational pull. No choice but to cover you, devour you in loving sweetness.

His warmth surrounded you as he pressed tender kisses into whatever skin he could find in the darkness of your room during the witching hour.

First was the skin of your wrist and the minimalist sun inked there – a tender question placed at the site of your matched dedication, something to gauge your wakefulness against his own desire. At the pleased hum emanating from your dreamy throat, he continued… trailing his way up your bared arm with intentional, insistent presses of his lips. Urging you into ever-present consciousness with his lips.

Mickey's nose skimmed the regal curve of your shoulder, along your collarbone. Delighting himself in the way your skin felt along the velvet warmth of his own – something he could never fully appreciate in the depths of his own imagination when he was away.

Nothing like the real thing, baby.

And he was content to repeat the process, allowing himself to slide down to begin anew with the skin of your hip, kissing along the ridges of your ribs and allowing himself to drown once more in the feel of you.

Was he the ocean, or were you? Desirous, greedy, wrathful as it was…

Mickey brought himself up to you, chest-to-chest, as you stirred, reveling in the feel of your chest meeting his own with every heaving inhalation. The soft lace of your lingerie brushed his chest, catching the curves and edges of his skin, tickling and teasing as though you meant it. And perhaps you did, your smile coy, sleepy, sweet.

“Is this for me, my love?” Mickey murmured in the low-light of your bedroom, toying with the bra strap that had slid down your shoulder in your sleep, admiring the contrast of the white lace against your skin. “Te ves como un ángel.”

“It was your surprise,” you breathed, urging yourself ever-into wakefulness as Mickey bent to kiss your neck, trailing his fingertips from your arm, over your clothed breast, and down, down, down, to rest on your hip.

Mickey's fingertips are honeyed. They drag along your skin, sticky with desire … leaving a tingling trail where he's touched you, enough to drive you to absolute madness, fully awake now.

With no thought but the desire to see if he tastes as good as he makes you feel – thick honey and cloves, sweetly heavy when you grip his wrist and bring his fingers to your lips, taking them into your mouth – nectar.

Mickey groans as you suck on his fingers. He is devotional, devout, and ever-enamoured with you, and if the kissing and touching to urge you into wakefulness didn’t leave him half-hard already, the sight of you, eyes heavy-lidded with sleep and stardust, lips pouty and sinful with the feel of his fingers in your mouth, warm, wet, enticing … was enough to get him the rest of the way. And it had been so long since he’d had you, how a man could be expected to wait, he didn’t know.

He smiles into your skin – million-watt, apparent to you through the curve of his lips against your skin.

"I love it. You're pretty," he murmurs. "So pretty, mi cielita linda."

You released Mickey’s fingers from your lips, pressing a kiss to his open palm, and make to guide his hand down your body, your eyes adjusted to the dark of the room now, appreciative of the curve of your love’s body above yours, the curve of his biceps, the feel of his torso against yours. And it had been so long since you’d felt his touch rather than imagined it. How you could be expected to wait, you didn’t know. The promise of his touch against your skin, of his kisses to your neck and shoulders in the darkness of your shared bedroom, was enough to dampen your panties, to urge in the slow, pulsing ache between your legs.

You guided Mickey’s hand down to your center now, allowing his fingers autonomy to explore you. And for his part, the resulting groan Mickey emitted at the feeling of the damp fabric as he slid a finger over your clothed slit, was enough to cause you to shiver.

Pleased with himself, and more than a little turned on, Mickey rolled his hips into the bedspread, to alleviate just a little of the tension he was feeling. The two of you had barely touched, and he was ready to bury himself in you, to die if it meant it was with you.

Gently pushing the white lace aside, Mickey stroked his way along your now-bare slit, pleased at the way your hips involuntarily rolled into his touch, the way your chest heaved just that little bit more at his touch.

Your silken slickness is a direct contract to the pulsing ache you feel. And he adores you, he abets you, encouraging the pent-up want with pressing, pretty kisses along the line of your throat as he eases a long finger inside of you, beckoning you to him from inside as he curls his finger, allowing you to buck yourself, your clit, against the heel of his hand, your eyes rolling back at the saintly, sinful feel of him.

“Gotta taste you, amor,” Mickey breathed, pulling down the lacey cups of your bra to kiss along your breasts, sucking your nipple into his mouth as his fingers continued to play with your center.

You arched your back, urging him down as he kissed his way down your torso, awash in intentional adoration. Chuckling at your chagrin as he withdrew his fingers from your center to pull your panties down your legs, kissing your hipbones as he went.

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Mickey rewarded your (im)patience as he kissed along your thighs, the oceanic pull of you rendering him senseless in his singular desire as he urged himself closer, closer to your center, caught in your orbit, the waves of your desire (or were they his own?) washing over him as he kissed you.

You yelped at a particularly invested nip of his teeth against the skin of your thigh.

"Sorry, sorry, amor," he breathed, sweeping an apologetic brush of his lips over the offending spot, not-so-secretly marveling at the minor indentations of his teeth now adorning the fullness of your thigh – all glittering, mischievous nightsky eyes in the low light of your bedroom. Another sincere, soft kiss to the spot, belying his remorse. "We can stop if you want."

"D-don't you dare."

It was so easy, Mickey thought, to give you what you wanted. To kneel before you and acquiesce to your every demand – simply because you didn’t demand.

It was easy for him to, he knew, when your gratitude was reflected in starry, wan eyes as you gazed down at your beloved, your expression one of idle worship that he drank in.

It was easy, when you asked so pretty, breathy moans of “please, please, please,” meeting his ears as though you were inside of his mind.

It was easy, because you were beautiful. And beautiful people have a way of getting what they want, and Mickey understood you were beautiful – made beautiful as you were, and moreso, if he asked you, because he loved you.

It was easy, Mickey knew, so easy to give you anything you wanted … simply because he would do anything for you.

Mickey gripped your thighs now, pushing them apart to better bare yourself to him. He buried himself in the cleft of your thighs, the flash of his hot tongue like electrostatic shock, jolting through you from the very center as he licked a long, loving stripe along the seam of your cunt.

And if you’d thought the first taste of his mouth on you was heavenly – And how was that, when it was him who was tasting you? You were falling in love with him all over again, with every bit of attention he showered you with as he licked you, wriggling his finger once more inside of you and rendering you senseless at the feeling of him pulling you into his depths.

The feel of him was like the slow drip and drizzle of honey in tea – warm, sweet, tingling.

Your fingers scraped their way along his scalp, lamenting once more the lack of hair to tug. Nevertheless, your keening moans in the room sounded unfamiliar to your own ears, but you knew, distantly, that they were coming from your own mouth, building within the finite space of your room as Mickey urged you closer, closer to your peak.

And the feel of his mouth, of his fingers, is divine… wretchedly and wrathfully so. You cursed your own fingers in comparison, cursed the ache you felt in the months of his absence, for they could never quite match the exquisite feel of his. And yet, and yet, and yet…

It wasn’t enough.

You needed more. As your chest heaved in tortuous pleaser, as you groaned at his attentions. You realized –

You need all of him.

“Mi cielita linda,” Mickey breathed, sitting back on his heels and taking your thighs with him in warm, prayer-like palms, to continue to press kisses to your legs. "I'm wild for you, amor … Does it feel good? When I touch you like this?"

A villain.

“Please, M,” you keened at Mickey’s tickling kisses. “Please. I c-can’t… I need you.”

He chuckles darkly, like the slow pour of golden-dark, honeyed syrup, slow, low, and full of the promise of something.

"You're sweet," he murmurs into your thigh, trailing his lips to where he knows you want him most, before withdrawing once more. "So sweet."

With that, he releases your thighs, guiding them down to the soft bedspread on either side of him as he lifts himself to his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and slipping out of them. You made to assist, slipping your hands down your body and to your center, gathering some of your own slick onto your fingers and onto Mickey’s hardness, stroking him with the evidence of your own desire, reveling in the choked noise that caught in his throat. The way his eyes fluttered shut as he paused in his movements.

“Goddamn, cielo,” He surged forward, caging you with his strong arms as he fell forward, capturing your lips with his own, the taste of you as much a tease as his own mouth.

Mickey broke from you far too soon, as you continued to work him, leaning past you to your bedside to shuffle in the drawer for a condom when you stopped him.

“It’s fine, baby,” you assured, urging him back to you as you wrapped your legs around his tapered waist, your hand cupping his jaw and guiding his lips to yours once more.

“Are you sure, baby?” He asked, wanting to make sure he understood your intention behind the decision to forego protection.

“Of course, corazón,” you assured. “I just want to feel you."

And you didn’t have to tell him twice.

"Have I told you today I love you?" he asked, aligning himself with your entrance, teasing you with his length along your slit and causing you to buck, chuckling at your impatience, your impertinence. That wild streak he loves so much.

“I love you,” you urged. “Now, please, M, c’mon. Don’t you wanna show me how much you missed me?”

And that did it.

Mickey slid himself into you, rejoicing in the slick feel of you, in the snug warmth of your tightness, ever as though you were made for him as he began to thrust into you, measured, keeled. In the way he knew you liked.

"Shit, baby," Mickey groaned. "Fuck."

And he’s so desperate, desperate to feel some part of you that he’d mimic whatever gets him closest. But he needn’t mimic. Because, truly, there was nothing like the real thing. Like the very real feel of you wrapped around him, squeezing him ever-tighter.

Of the feel of your thighs around his waist, your ankles locking behind him, urging him for more, more. Your nails along his back, and your breathy moans in his ear, begging, begging – he swears, for him to fuck you harder.

“Oh, fuck, you undo me, Mickey,” you sighed, relishing in the honey warmth languidly sweeping its way through your veins with each of his thrusts. Following the swirling pathway of Mickey’s attentions, the heated, silken traipse of his body along yours, inside of yours.

And Mickey whispers in your ear, incoherent, dirty little nothings as he fucks into you, his body curled over yours, one hand on your neck, his face pressed into the side of yours and his full lips gently brushing the shell of your ear.

And you were an angel, the way you took it, took him. A silver-screen siren, a hazy dream, sent straight from the kind of grainy, overfiltered pretentious indie flicks he'd loved in college.

Mickey’s thrusts urged you closer, ever closer to the edge as he rolled his hips into yours, the thrust-and-drag of him heavy inside of you, his fingers circling your clit as you resorted to incoherent murmurings for “more.”

Selfishly, you prayed, he’d give you an ache you'll remember long after he leaves again – never mind the one in your heart that's sure to follow– but you couldn’t dwell on that now as the staticy pleasure of your orgasm started to sweep through you, tingling your toes to your scalp.

You felt your release surging through you, a wave of pleasure pulling you back to your love, his arms wrapped around you just as you tightened around him with a sweet sigh, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he kissed you, coaxed you through it.

His own release followed after the feel of him emptying himself inside of you one you would never tire of, the anchoring sound of his satisfied groan like music to your ears as you guided him to rest alongside you, pleased at the sweat-sheen glow adorning his warm, tanned skin. Pressing a kiss to his bicep, his neck, and his lips once more.

Out of habit, you made to sweep his hair from his eyes, the soft pads of your fingertips meeting the side of his face instead, admiring every inch of your man in the low light of your bedroom.

"You've got galaxies in your eyes, love," you whispered to him, your thumb brushing a soothing, sweeping line over Mickey's prominent cheekbone. “Always in the sky.”

“Yeah?” he breathed back, his eyes sweeping your face, taking you in in-kind. “You have the sea in yours.” He brought your wrist to his mouth to place another kiss to the sun there. “I’m sorry I fell asleep before. I'll make it up to you tomorrow once I’ve had my coffee.”

You tore your wrist away gently to swat his bicep, the little thwack resounding in the relative silence of your bedroom.

“Oh, don't be silly,” you chided. “You know you were good.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey puffed his chest a bit, pleased at your praise. “Then I’ll take power-naps every time before.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you told him. Noting his hum of agreement.

–

You lie together, Mickey in your arms, legs tangled, as you gently scraped your nails over his scalp.

“The curls, I miss,” you confessed, the tickling buzz of short hair a strange prickle against the pads of your fingertips. “But this is cute, too.”

Mickey’s eyes were closed at your attentions, contented. You were almost certain he was moments away from purring like a large jungle cat, a panther, with inky dark hair and eyes made for targeting its prey (he was good at that, after all, being a WSO…).

“Glad to know you approve, seeing as I didn’t have much of a choice,” Mickey sighed, taking the opportunity to admire your features in the soft lamplight of your bedroom, the two of you caught in the witching hour, the lurch of a late-night-come-early-morning – grey skies dotted with the final holdouts of twinkling, winking stars.

“Does your C.O. know how cute you look with the curls, though?” you pondered. “Should I write to my congressman?”

“You’re too much, cielo,” Mickey hummed, his lips turning in a half smile as he gazed up at you in moonlight adoration.

“You love it though,” you replied, bending to press a kiss to his cheek, your hands never ceasing in their movements.

“I do,” Mickey groaned in satisfaction at a particularly rewarding scrape of your nails through his cropped hair. “I hope our kids end up with one-tenth of your tenacity – ready to take on the entire U.S. Navy over a haircut.”

You brought your hands down from his scalp to his shoulders, kneading the muscles there as he rested against you. What he assumed was a gift for him – the massage– truly a gift for you, as you took every opportunity to feel his skin against yours. A reminder that he was here. He was home.

You quirked your lips as you worked.

“Our kids, huh?” You queried. “And when is this happening?”

“As soon as you’ll let me,” he laughed, the radiance of his smile a secondary source of light in your bedroom, blindingly dazzling, as always. “If it’s a boy, he’ll be a Jedi like his father before him,” he said, voice bold, assured.

“You seem to have thought a great deal about this. And this boy’s name?”

“Vero,” Mickey replied, not missing a beat.

“Ah,” you kneaded a particularly stubborn knot of muscle in his shoulder, causing him to let out a deep groan. “Great hero, a warrior. Good name for a Jedi. And if it’s a girl?”

“Valencia,” he said, sitting up and turning to face you now, allowing your hands to fall from his shoulders so that he could take them in his own. “Our gift in winter. Something we’d share.”

And you could envision it, you could. An entire life with the man before you, packing school lunches together, planning summertime road trips. Backpacks, bonfires, the whole nine yards. There was never any question that you wanted your life to enmesh with his – to share everything together.

Still. Wasn’t it always nice to hear that he felt the same?

“I see,” you murmured, voice hitching a bit with the tenderness of the moment, “And you see that in our future, do you?”

Mickey’s eyes were dark, searching as he gazed upon you, appreciating the filtering purple-grey of twilight through your window and how it played upon your features. You truly were his dream girl.

“Of course,” Mickey replied, voice emboldened with confidence and warmth. Pressing his lips to yours before confessing, “I’m going to marry you, cielo.”

–

A few short hours and one doggy walk later found you and Mickey in the morning drive-through queue, waiting to pick up your coffee at the pick-up window, Artoo contentedly sprawled along the backseat, gnawing on his favorite Nyla-bone as the two of you hummed along to your current playlist.

Mickey laced his fingers through yours, resting your joined hands on the center console as the song changed to Sam Cooke’s sweet warble, begging Cupid to pierce his lover’s heart with his arrow, promising to love her for eternity.

“A lot of motown on this playlist,” he mused. “Any particular reason?”

“This one,” you sighed dreamily, “… This one I made when I was thinking of you.”

Mickey turned to look at you, the sunlight glancing off of the lenses of his flattering, wire-rimmed glasses. His worn San Diego Padres hat fit more loosely than you had remembered, thanks to his closely-cropped hair, and the distinct lack of voluminous curls that he would typically need to wrestle in order to fit the hat to his head. He smiled at your admission, sparkling and cruelly-perfect.

“Sam Cooke makes you think of me?”

“A lot of things make me think of you,” you retorted. “Be grateful I don’t serenade you with ‘Lovefool.’”

“You know I don’t mind your singing, amor,” he breezed, bringing your joined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of yours. “Even if you sound like a bag of angry cats in a hurricane.”

You arched a brow at Mickey as he took his foot off the brake, inching you forward to the pick-up window.

“I seemed to recall you saying you’d be nicer to me once you’d had your coffee,” you chided, swatting the brim of his hat and causing it to fall over his eyes.

“Well, I haven’t had my coffee yet, amor,” Mickey adjusted his brim and eased his foot onto the brake, rolling down his window before greeting the barista. “So there’s still time.”

He winked at you before collecting your coffees through the window.

You scoffed, toggling your playlist over to Curtis Mayfield and rolling your eyes in mock-consternation at your beloved, grabbing the cup with your name on it with greedy fingers and taking a deep, appreciative sip.

The two of you drove off in the easy silence borne of enjoying your respective beverages.

At the next stoplight, you offered your cup to Mickey, per your tradition. The two of you swapped cups, him taking a swig of your coffee as you sipped his overly-sweetened cold brew.

True to form, Mickey visibly grimaced at the pungent taste of hot, black coffee on his tongue, shuddering and causing you to giggle at his overwrought reaction. It never changed, and yet he insisted on sipping your extra-shot Americanos, even though he hated them.

“Cielo, I say this because I love you… Is, like, is your stomach lining okay? This is SO acidic. I just don't understand how you can drink something so bitter.”

“I have all the sweetness I need right here,” you leaned across the console to peck his cheek. "Mhmm," you nodded. "Super-sweet."

"Corny," Mickey chuckled, pressing your coffee back into your hands and navigating the two of you back home. "So, is tonight a movie night?"

"Of course," you replied. "The projector is up and ready. You decide – Alien or Predator?"

Artoo sighs in the backseat, settling in for the drive home.

Mickey glances over at you, savoring the sweetness of the cold brew on his tongue, though of course it has nothing on the sweetness that is you.

On this, you both can agree – coffee is nice. But nothing quite makes you feel alive as the person next to you.

"You're perfect, cielo."

–

Time is cruel. It passes quickly in joyful moments, slipping like cool water through cupped hands in the desert. In moments you wish would pass, it somehow stagnates, stuck like boots in mud during an uphill climb.

Mickey’s two weeks home seemed to fly by – no pun intended, really, because you knew he’d be flying away soon. And you didn’t want to resent it. Really, you didn’t. You knew he lived to fly. When you stared at the night sky when the two of you were apart, you’d imagine him up there, watching over you. If you’d catch a falling star out of the corner of your eye, you’d wished for more time. For the sky – beautiful as it was – to stop calling your love to its endless vastness. To allow him to stay on the ground with you, for even just a touch longer.

But the sun rose and set, the same way it ever does. And it rose again on the morning Mickey was to leave.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as the two of you lay in bed together – content to never move, to bask in this moment forever.

His words hang heavy on you, weigh even more heavily on your heart. An ache borne equally of love and pain. Of the promise of a future (which he was clearly planning for), but devoid of togetherness in the present.

"I miss you when you're gone," is all you manage to choke out, voice soft so as not to belay any of the fissures in your heart that are making their traitorous way up to your lips.

Mickey laces his fingers through yours, giving them a gentle squeeze as he pulls you back into the bed, into the warmth of his embrace.

“I know, cielo,” he sighs into your hair, gifting you with another kiss, this time to the top of your head as he takes in the warm, rosy paint of your bedroom walls. “I don’t want to go.”

“Mickey,” you break from his hold to look at him, to cup his cheeks, the sheets swishing as you turn to face him. “Of course you do. And that’s okay. You’re supposed to love your job. And you… You’ve got your head in the clouds."

Mickey made to protest, to tell you that he doesn’t love it more than you, when you press your finger to his lips,

“It’s okay, love. I’ll always be here when you get back. We have plans for our anniversary, remember? Disneyland.”

Mickey had always thought you like the ocean to his sky, parallelled, but so different. Turbulent, soft. Untameable, endless. When, really, you were always with him.

He removed your hand from his lips, gently guiding it next to his own and holding your wrists together so as to admire the two suns inked on your respective wrists.

(“Like the twin suns of Tatooine,” Mickey had joked – quick to silence his laughing when you reminded him this was supposed to be a metaphor for your love, and did he really want to equate it to the most uninhabitable planet in Star Wars? You delicately chose to ignore Mickey’s rejoinder that Hoth was the most uninhabitable planet in Star Wars, content that your point had been taken.)

And whether it was the suns adorning your wrists, or the bunch of fiery marigolds in water next to your bedside, or the theft of his favorite ballcap, you knew Mickey was with you each day. Even if he wasn’t. He was part of your day each day, just as you were part of his, when he affirmed –

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Mickey rested his head against yours, eyes never leaving your wrists. “We have these because you’re in the clouds with me, remember? You're mi cielo."

Tagging: @withahappyrefrain @spidervee @andallthatmishigas @thegirlwhowritesfics @xbamboowishesx @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @abibliophobiaa @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @thematthewmurdock @mrshipsmcgee @p3mybeloved @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo @vestrangel @moonlight-prose @aphrogeneias @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @2clones-1kamino @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @justalonelyslytherin @ilovepretttystuff @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @shakira-sasha @siriusfahey @hopefulinlove @s-u-t @Criminalmindsandmarvel @joaquinwhorres @gingerbreadandpaper @jakexfmc @the-navistar-carol @alexxavicry @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @thedaredevilsgirl @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid @buckyytorres

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tasteslikenostalgiaa · 2 years

Text

Breaking up with Jeonghan

Inspired by my answers from a kpop game by @hanniehoney1004. (it's incredibly fun game, you should try it too❤️)

Genre: Angst (TW mentions of anxiety but not too severe)

For better experience, listen to this song with it.

Moodboard for this fic: ❤️❤️❤️

Y/N's POV

"Combat, I'm ready for Combat"

Everyday felt like a combat. Some days it was so hard to even open my eyes, so hard that I felt like falling deep into a hazy sleep feeling like you're falling into a bottomless pit but all of a sudden, thud! You're on a rough land. And you got bruises. Looking at him was even more difficult. Once this angelic face which bought comfort to me has now become the reason of my combat. And this combat which I can never win because I'm too focused on breathing properly. Too focused on not to miss any steps. Too focused on perfection.

"I say I don't want that, but what if I do?"

I can't help it. How the sweetest fruit turned into the bitterness of poison. I can't help but think if I wanted us to come here, in this deserted land, if it actually is my mistake or if I'm completely innocent. Sometimes when you open your eyes, do you ever find yourself drowning in the gray? I see it, I see myself drowning in the illusion of a gray desert.

"'Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you"

I see it. I see myself turning into a monster. The monster said 'you hurt me, I hurt you'. I can honestly give thousands of explainations of why I did that to you, another thousands about why you deserved it too. Perhaps then I'll win this game, but then again, will it even matter? I wanna see your beautiful smile again, hold your warm hands, is that what winning is like?

JEONGHAN'S POV

"Easy they come, easy they go"

How do these monsters find a way into my head? Run upto me and whisper lies and then fly away. Leave me trembling. "It was your mistake." one of them said. "you shouldn't have left her alone" if I ever live forever, then I might actually spend my days trembling at the thought of how I hurt you. Are you even listening to me, Y/N?

"I jump from the train, I ride off alone"

I should probably go. This ain't the best time to talk about it, is it? Haha right. I should go. "You're running away" they said it again, "coward." Take deep breathes, Jeonghan, deep breathes. 1 2 3 hmmm you'll be alright, hannie. I'll be alright. I shouldn't have been to her at all. I shouldn't. *trembling*

"I never grew up, it's getting so old

Help me hold on to you"

I remember the first time I saw that beautiful girl when I was 10. When she smiled at me, talked to me with such kindness. Her words were strong, she was strong. She didn't run away like me when things would start getting difficult. I thought I might have grown up yet after 17 years, I feel trapped inside this decaying world. *dropping to his knees* Y/N, you aren't listening to me right now, I know but this feeling is getting too heavy, it's crushing me. I'm falling under its weight. Can you please please hold me for a while? I feel so weak, I'm trembling.

A shared feeling of Y/N and JEONGHAN

"I've been the archer, I've been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling

But who could stay?"

Feels like this shield I used to protect myself with, became my weapon to use against me. I wasn't protecting anymore i was hiding, sabotaging, killing me. Peaking from behind it to see if love is coming near me, but it's far far away. Oh look, it caught my eye, perhaps it'll stay?

I have always been like this, silently playing with my anxiety, sharing a few similies and metaphors about my pain. Sometimes numbing it, sometimes feeling it to my bones. I'm a bit addicting, I can see in your eyes that you wanna stay. My mind might be messed up, but my heart is a beautiful place. But most of them are addicted to my mind, and they leave even before they try to reach my heart. So who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay? You and I, both are running away.

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highladyluck · 3 years

Text

Wheel of Time 01x06 liveblog

Teaser:

Why is Alanna always eating fruit, is this a metaphor or what

Bring Your Children To Work Day is going well, I see

Shunning rituals! WE CONSTRUCT INTRICATE RITUALS TO TOUCH THE SKIN OF OUR GAY LOVER

I was promised homoeroticism and I better get it

Sea Folk? ooooh baby Siuan. Ooof, Tear really does not like channelers.

AL'NATIO!!! I guess it really is Siuan's theme, specifically. I still like my more general translation, though.

We have FISHY SAYINGS, I REPEAT, WE HAVE FISHY SAYINGS

She's so baby T_T

"Fish touch the moon's reflection every night" damn girl you got poetry and a refreshingly can-do attitude towards teaching male channelers doing the impossible

She comes, she comes! If your showverse Moiraine/Siuan fic doesn't include this phrase echoed at a crucial moment, then what the fuck are you even doing, go write Perrin/Mat instead if you need to get your gay on

THE OUTFITS

Moiraine like: "my hot GF is the pope"

Leane please step on me

Tower guards or Accepted?

Oh my god she sounds like Siuan should

Aes Sedai are unpopular, noted. Siuan like "I won't be goaded"

Siuan that's kinda fucked up, but otoh really sets up some parallels

Mmmm, a Green defending a Red (for the sake of a Green), got some shakeups in the standard politics maybe

"Laws exist to protect people from us" what an interesting thing to say- like, absolutely correct, but there are certain other countries that would say the same thing and mean it entirely differently, certain other countries that were already reminding me of Tear

Liandrin like *pouty face* "I wish mommy would yell at someone besides me"

Moiraine and Siuan staging a homoerotic drama to put Liandrin off the scent

"I will think on your penance" -> it's gonna be gay af

Why is Alanna always eating fruit, is this a metaphor or what

Tar Valon as Constantinople, I want to go to there T_T

Ooooooooh it's trauma time for my boy :) my stupid boy :) :) :)

I love how Rand is like "You'll have to go through me" and Lan is like "that's sweet but I'm going to disarm you now"

The way the black gunk interacts with the weaves almost looks like magnetic fields- kind of repelled and compelled at once- and I look forward to more special effects of that nature in future seasons [eyes emoji]

Give Barney an Oscar

"I would do it for any of you" love this Moirane and Rand sort of bonding moment

"He's stronger than he has any right to be" THAT'S MY STUPID BOY

Iiiiiinteresting so she's healed him of the dagger connection, but he can't touch it again or it's probably curtains. [So, knowing Mat, I would assume we are on track for the usual shenanigans... wait, y'all, what are the odds Mat ends up introducing the falcon to the party in this iteration? I want them to be friends.]

"Feeding on a darkness in him" wtf is that all about, though?

*nods to Rafe* This bisexual thanks you for Moiraine side butt [typing this now I have to confess that this is seared into my brain and I'm gonna be horny forever, also I originally left out those disappearing ships from my notes, which should confirm exactly how distracted I was]

When will people learn that you can't keep Moiraine in the Tower? She's like Mat, if you try to trap her she will run away

More Aes Sedai truthiness, on poor Egwene too, rude

Oh Egwene, count no one in this series dead until you see the body buried, and then check for supernatural allegiances XD

"It'll be like it never happened" Moiraine, honey, that's not how profound emotional trauma works

Moiraine like "Please don't tell anyone Perrin is a werewolf, they'd take it the wrong way"

"You masked our bond." "I'm delegating." "You're getting laid is what you're doing."

GIVE. ME. THE. GAY.

Guessing T'A'R? [later thoughts- my best guess is a ter'angreal that creates a construct space, like vacuoles or something]

Moiraine is a power bottom

yaaaaay someone is swearing by the Light!

I love the theme of untrustworthy data, incomplete information, etc

"You little pufferfish" omfg what an adorable petname for Moiraine I'm dead

"I'll kill them myself before I let him have them." yessss classic Moiraine lines

Siuan as a Dreamer? I'll accept it

eeeeey it's the plot, Dark One and the Eye of the World, which appears to be kind of Bore-like in this instance (no one make fun of the Dragon later when they make the speech, you know the one- in this turning Moiraine really is setting them up to think that!)

Moiraine like "please exile me, in any Turning of the Wheel I need to get out of this place"

"In this life or the next" MY HEART

Got some clumsy blackmail on Liandrin [The man in North Harbor- I've seen speculation this is Fain, but tbh it could be any bad guy or even related to those ship disappearances that got mentioned in the bath scene. Whoever it is, I will eat Mat's horrible coat if it's a romantic liaison.]

Moiraine gets her pun in: "A Way to surmount it"

"Confusing to have the woman and the throne named the same thing" *froths at the mouth* I *need* to write that Egwene and The Problematic Fave parallels essay, what delicious foils they are to each other

Omg, these actresses, Nyn is perfect, so is Egg

Bring Your Children To Work Day is going well, I see

Nyn vs Siuan is so fun "Then you must have very low standards"

"The Wheel doesn't care what you want, the only thing that matters is what you do" [Mat rejects your determinism! Mat rejects your determinism so hard he yeets himself out of the storyline XD]

You could cut the sexual tension with a knife

Swearing fealty on the oath rod to the judgement of the Amyrilin Seat... but Moiraine makes it VERY GAY and & specific to one person. That's a smart strategic choice, but also sets a precedent for oaths sworn to the person rather than the seat, at least if anyone else heard. [eyeballs emoji]

Shunning rituals! WE CONSTRUCT INTRICATE RITUALS TO TOUCH THE SKIN OF OUR GAY LOVER

It's Waygate time, bitches

Moiraine is such a horse girl

The gang's back together!

Am I reading too much into this or is this a ship tease between Mat and Perrin? Mat has such bisexual energy in this show and I do actually support it, I just literally can't believe I kinda ship Mat and Perrin

*Everyone* is a horse girl

WHO IS GONNA TAKE CARE OF MANDARB??? And Bela I guess

Rand's "are you shitting me" face is so good, he's like "Wait, you don't know who the Dragon is?"

"The earth itself will burn" EXCUSE ME WHY ARE WE LOOKING AT MAT RIGHT NOW XD

Nyneave asking the tough questions, as usual

Sidebar why has no one gotten Mat a better coat? There is wind in the ways, too!

Moiraine like "this is now beyond our control, the Wheel weaves as the wheel wills..." meanwhile Mat is like "Please don't make me deal with the darkness again, hahaha just kidding but actually not kidding at all." [OK, so obviously this was because Mat's actor left when Covid hit, but "You have no control and Fate is gonna chew you up and spit you out and you'll likely die if you're not the Dragon" is literally the most anti-Mat statement you could possibly make and I don't blame him for noping the fuck out. Besides, his fate is gonna find him anyway.]

Mat really is being set up as the Edmund Pevensie of the group here XD hope that deeply cursed Turkish Delight is worth it, buddy

"It's fairly obvious that one of them is the problem, and it's Mat. They should have been spending more time watching him!" - My beloved spouse, who is correct

#wheel of time #wot on prime #wot on prime spoilers #wot on prime s1e6 #wot on prime liveblog #tl;dr I am not concerned about Mat except in the sense that I am concerned about Mat literally all of the time #he is a concerning boy #also what's up with tumblr not having the stupid boy gif from the shoes video #I was going to make that my teaser #also I tried to talk around book data enough to not have to use my tag hopefully it works

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atinymonster · 3 years

Text

my berry

ateez 9th member.

when sunwoo shows jiyu a song that he centered around her.

this can be considered the continuation of [happy birthday, my sunshine]!! 🥺 some cute sunji content after their fight because they deserve it, even if this happened BEFORE their fight cjsjjsjsnd

➴ taglist: @banhmi07, @jiyeons-closet, @jaeminpeachy, @mochibabycakes, @euphoriamingi, @marsophilia, @goddessofdestructionbeast, @studioreader, @dkdlwhs12

➴ masterlist

“Oh, that reminds me,” Sunwoo suddenly said as he released her from his embrace, “you didn’t get to listen to it yet.”

Watching him fumble around the bed for his phone, she tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Listen to what? Are you finally giving me the sneak peek I’ve wanted of your team’s rap?” she joked, eliciting small chuckles from the boy.

“No, something better.”

That piqued her curiosity, and Sunwoo couldn’t help but coo at how her eyes sparkled from anticipation. He plugged the earbuds into his phone before putting each bud in her ear.

Jiyu suddenly felt nervous for no reason. “You’re not going to play a jump scare as revenge for earlier when I barged in, right?”

He fake gasped as if his plans had been exploited, before erupting into laughter as he tried to alleviate his now–terrified girlfriend. Jiyu slightly furrowed her eyebrows and punched his shoulder, causing him to yelp.

“I’m kidding! I’d never do that even if I wanted revenge in you for something,” he reassuringly said as he rubbed her head. “It’s something nice, I promise.”

She childishly crossed her arms across her chest and patiently waited for him to play the media file on his screen. Once his finger pressed play, a melodious and calming tune filled her ears before she heard Sunwoo’s angelic singing.

It was at moments like this where she was reminded that he auditioned as a vocalist.

She was shocked—one, he had given people this amazing song on his birthday, and two, the lyrics sounded as if he was talking to her, as if he was professing his love to her over and over again.

Oh my baby, why are we

So well suited for each other, we can be forever, maybe

Oh my lady, like we have no tomorrow

We can love each other, maybe

Not that she wanted to get ahead of herself, but what else was she supposed to think?

Watching her, Sunwoo felt both anxiousness and adoration swirling around in his chest. This was the first time in their relationship that he had showed her one of his self-made tracks, and he didn’t know the type of reaction he was anticipating from her.

And it was the first time he had composed a track about her.

He had remembered in a VLIVE a while back where she revealed her love for strawberries, and he just took that little fact about her and ran with it. However, contrary to all his worries, seeing her little smile as she rocked side-to-side, he figured he wouldn’t have to worry so much.

When the song finished, Jiyu took a moment of silence to relish in the warm and fuzzy aftermath of hearing the beautiful song. She had always loved his voice, so hearing a whole three minute song with only his voice was heavenly.

“You released this song today to Deobis? On your birthday?” she incredulously asked.

He nodded like a happy puppy receiving praise. “Did you like it? I did write it with someone in mind, after all,” he gently poked her forehead, laughing at when she slightly recoiled with a yelp.

“I-I liked it...loved it actually,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks grow warm. So she hadn’t been thinking too much after all.

“Why did you use berries, though?” There were thousands of metaphors he could’ve used, but what made him choose fruits?

As if he had been waiting for her to ask, he flung himself at her again before nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. It caught her off guard, but she naturally wrapped her arms around him. “You said you liked strawberries.”

Jiyu had never felt so touched. It was a small, minuscule detail that she had quickly mentioned on a VLIVE. Never did she imagine Sunwoo taking that small fact to turn it into a song about her.

Her arms tightened around him, and he chuckled before looking up into her face. Seeing how shocked she was for words, he craned his neck up and kissed her cheek. “Lovebug?”

“I’m kind of jealous though...” she quietly mumbled to herself, hiding her face because she genuinely felt like she was about to explode from how much love she had for the boy in her arms.

“Hm? Jealous?”

“Nothing, never mind,” she quickly denied, not wanting to sound selfish with what she was about to say. It was his birthday, he wasn’t supposed to be worrying about some childish thoughts of her’s.

“No, say it!” Sunwoo whined, throwing in a pout for good measure, “What are you jealous about?”

A few moments of silence passed and Jiyu still couldn’t bring herself to look at him, who looked at her with huge sparkling eyes as he eagerly waited for her response. Hearing that she was jealous, as self-centered as it may sound, brought a smile to his face. It meant that she loved him enough if she harbored such feelings.

“Because other people get to hear this, too,” she hesitantly admitted. Her cheeks burned once the words left her mouth.

Sunwoo couldn’t help the look of astonishment that flashed across his face. He thought his love for her couldn’t grow any bigger, but here he was, proved wrong as he felt his heart go pitter-patter.

Her innocent words paired with her pink cheeks sparked a flurry of emotions within him. “Aigo, lovebug,” he lovingly cooed, chuckling when she started to whine in utter embarrassment before hiding her face in his hair.

“You’re cute,” he quipped, sitting back up and smirking at her half-hearted attempt to glare at him.

“See? It was stupid, that’s why I didn’t want to say anything—”

“I never said it was stupid, love. I genuinely find it cute that you worried your pretty little head over that,” he chuckled, giving her hair an affectionate ruffle.

“But it’s a song that expresses my love for you. Just because I let other people hear it doesn’t mean it’s not a special song for you or me.”

Jiyu quietly chuckled before breathing out an okay. Crawling into his lap, she looked up at him with puppy eyes. “Then can you sing it to me? I wanna hear it live,” she requested with a cheeky grin.

Sunwoo huffed before pulling her closer to him. “You’re a needy one aren’t you?”

Snorting at his innuendo, one hand reached up to pat his cheek while the other fumbled for his phone to play the song. “You love me though, no?” she mumbled, tucking her head under his chin while he played with her hair.

“Unfortunately, I do. I really do! Very, very much,” he quickly added the latter when he saw her lips turn into a pout.

“Then can you sing for me?” she asked. “I want to appreciate my boyfriend’s voice.”

“As many times as you want me to, my berry,” he answered, meaning every word. Pressing a chaste peck to the top of her head, a small smile crossed his lips when she giggled before her finger pressed play.

This truly beat any other birthday celebration he’s had.

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

Text

The Problem With Birthdays

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You want to enjoy your birthday with Loki, but your fears that one day no one will love you are keeping you from having fun. Warnings: a bit angsty; fluff A/N: 1/2 Happy Birthday to my best friend @lokistan!! 🥳🥳🥳 May you have the most wonderful day ever. As requested, here’s a birthday fic for you! I hope you enjoy ❤️ 2/2 This is technically a sequel to The Secret Admirer, but you don’t have to read that to enjoy this 😄

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Darling?” Loki called, walking into the common room where you were on the couch, book in hand.

“Right here, my love. What’s up?”

“We need to talk.” He came and sat beside you as set your novel down. He took your hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to the back of your knuckles. “About your birthday.”

“You know how much I love talking to you, but I actually have to go meet Carol and Lauren in the lab. Talk later?”

“You are avoiding this,” he replied simply as you stood up. “You know you can tell me anything, right my darling?”

You stood before him and fidgeted with your charm bracelet, a nervous tic you’d picked up ever since you started wearing it. It had been a gift from Loki back when he’d been your secret admirer, not your boyfriend. You were beyond happy with how things had worked out, and your relationship was the most pure, perfect thing you’d ever experienced. Still, doubts filled your mind. You’d never dared hope he was actually your secret admirer those many months ago, but you’d fantasized that he was. It was an understatement to say you’d been pleasantly surprised when he came clean. The smile he’d given you that night was perhaps the most radiant one ever.

“I know,” you finally replied. “Just, later. Ok?”

“As you wish.”

He pulled you back down for a kiss before letting you go to the lab. He had a feeling you’d made no plans to meet up with your friends, but if you wanted to go, he’d never hold you back. And that extended to if you wanted to leave the relationship, which is what he feared was happening now. With a sigh, he stood, too. He had a party of sorts to plan. Nothing big, just a small dinner for the Avengers. He knew that’s what you would want, considering how you seemed to wish to avoid anything to do with your birthday in the first place.

Meanwhile, you arrived at the lab where your two best friends were testing a new invention. You smiled as Lauren, Tony’s newest lab assistant, tested what you could only figure were jet pack boots of some kind. Kind of like the ones on the Ironman suit, but disguised to look like normal shoes. Carol flew beside her, making sure she didn’t fall and hurt herself. Captain Marvel was in between intergalactic missions at the moment and was staying at the Tower to help keep an eye on things here on Earth. You didn’t know what it was about the two of them, but the three of you just clicked, and were now an inseparable trio.

“Hey! What’s up?” Lauren greeted once she had both feet planted firmly on the ground again.

“You look upset. Everything ok?” Carol asked, propping her elbows on one of the lab tables.

“Relatively ok, I guess,” you replied, playing with your bracelet again. You were holding the horse charm in between your thumb and forefinger. Loki had given it to you as a gift, a reminder of when he’d confessed his feeling in a horse drawn carriage. “Just not looking forward to tomorrow.”

“But it’s your birthday,” Carol said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s silly.”

“Look at me,” Lauren said, gently gripping your arms and giving you a light shake. “Don’t say that. Your feelings always matter; they’re not silly.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That means a lot to me. But, really, it’s alright.”

“Fine. But we’re here if you need us,” Carol said as they captured you in a group hug.

As you thanked them again, you could only hope that tomorrow would come and go without much fanfare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you woke up so cozy in your bed, you didn’t want to get up. Maybe you could while away your birthday in bed, pretend you were sick. But, no. You knew that would only push celebrations back, not stop them.

“Good morning, darling,” Loki said, knocking on your door. “Are you awake?”

“I am,” you called in reply. “Come in.”

“Happy Birthday, my sweet,” he greeted, walking in. He sat next to you on your bed and planted a kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered close to your skin as if he was hesitant to let you go, as if he thought he’d never be allowed to kiss you again. You looked up, your nose brushing against his, and kissed him on the lips. He smiled. “And how are you doing today?”

You’d never actually told him what was wrong yesterday. You wanted to talk to him, you really did, but you worried that by telling him your fears, they would come true.

“I’m ok, I guess.”

“Just ok?” he gasped. “Well, I know what will make that better.”

He waved his hands and trays of foods came flying in. There was bacon and pancakes and pastries and fruit bowls and just about everything else you could want. Honestly, it was far more than you could eat, but you definitely planned on sampling everything. You beamed at Loki, hugging him as he pulled you onto his lap.

“Breakfast in bed, darling?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, please,” you grinned back.

You sat for a while longer, eating and watching your favorite show. Eventually you decided you might as well get up and face the day. Loki left to go make the final preparations for dinner while you showered. A little less than an hour later, you reluctantly got out of the warm water, and sat on your bed once more in a robe, just staring at a wall. You don’t know how long you stayed there for, but it took a great effort to stand up and get dressed.

Once you had on your comfiest pants and favorite sweater, you tried to leave the room. You ended up flopping down on the bed again. You wanted to spend the day with your friends, not to mention Loki, the love of your life, but your worries were petrifying you.

“Is everything ok in there?” Loki asked, at your closed door once more.

“Sort of.”

“May I come in?”

You got up and opened the door for him. If only it was as easy to do that metaphorically as it was literally. He gently cupped your cheeks, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin, an unasked question in his eyes. You looked down, unable to bear disappointing him. It hurt you to shut him out like this; you’d always been honest with each other. You gave him a shy smile as he carefully tilted your head up and kissed you again.

“I, uh, I guess I promised we’d talk,” you said.

“You did, but I will not hold you to it if you are uncomfortable sharing.”

Gosh you loved this man. “I want to talk, it’s just...” you sighed, and pulled him back over to the bed to sit again. “Birthdays are supposed to be a day to celebrate, right?”

“Indeed they are.” He softly caressed the side of your face, looking very much like he wanted to kiss all your troubles away. “Because we all love you.”

“Well, that’s just it,” you whispered, your voice soft as you turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears in your eyes. “What if one year everyone realizes that they don’t love me? Then I’ll be spending every year, every day, every minute alone. I... I don’t want to lose you.”

Loki held you to his chest as you began to sob, wiping the now fallen tears from your cheeks. He cooed and kindly shushed you as you got it out of your system. You’d held it in so long you’d grown numb to the pain, but now you were feeling it full force.

Loki moved your sweater out of the way and kissed your shoulder, moving up your neck and to your wet cheeks. His heart broke a little bit as he tasted the salty drops on his lips. He so wished you hadn’t kept this bottled up, that you’d shared with him. Perhaps it was a little selfish, but he did also feel a spark of happiness at the moment of your confession since he thought you were about to say you didn’t love him anymore. Your thoughts were quite the opposite, in reality, and he cursed himself that he let you think that way for even a fraction of a second.

“I will always love you, darling,” he said as your cries slowly came to a stop, leaving hiccups in their wake. “And when I say always, I truly do mean forever and beyond the constraints of time. It was like a dream when you told me you felt the same way. My very own heavenly angel loved me, too. My heart, my soul, my passion, my darling. My love. Your insecurities are valid; everyone is allowed to have them. But I beg of you, come to me next time. We can work through them together.”

You sniffled to stop another set of tears. “I know. Thank you, Loki. I was worried that if I told you, you’d realize that you didn’t love me. But I know you do, really. And I love you so, so much, too.”

He pulled you down to be laying on the bed and wrapped his body around yours. When you were feeling better, you chatted a bit, keeping the conversation light after the heavy topics you’d been discussing. You finally told Loki you felt ready to go out and face the day, which was more then halfway over at this point. He checked to make sure you were certain of your decision, and after a kiss to each of your eyelids and the tip of your nose, escorted you out of your room.

“Happy Birthday!” the Avengers greeted you as you made your way into the common room.

Loki had taken your desire to keep celebrations simple to heart. There was a banner and some balloons, but that was it in the way of decorations. As for the team, they gave you kind hugs and thoughtful gifts, but no one made too big of a deal out of it. No shouting or crazy partying, just some quality time spent doing puzzles and playing board games and watching movies. Carol, Lauren, and a few of the others even hilariously recreated some of your favorite scenes from the films you’d picked. Of course, they were all making sure you knew you were loved and appreciated, too. In other words, it was perfect.

Dinner and dessert, your favorites served at both, were also amazing. You spent the time reminiscing and sharing stories from your childhood. Soon after, you retired to your room. After you got changed into your pajamas for the night, you met Loki in the living room of your large quarters. He was fiddling with something you couldn’t quite make out.

“What’s that you got there?” you asked, perching on the couch next to him.

“It is another gift for you, my darling,” he replied, presenting it to you.

You opened up the small pouch he’d handed you and pulled out a charm. It was a key, and you immediately added it to the growing collection on your bracelet.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. “It’s perfect.”

“And that is not all,” he grinned as you looked at him with excitement and surprise written plainly across your features. He pulled out a charm of his own on a necklace, hidden by his shirt. It was a heart with a lock carved into it. You looked again at the key and realized it would fit perfectly. “I want you to know that you have the key to my heart. I love you, my angel.”

“And I will protect it with everything I have in me. Because I love you, too, Loki. More than I can ever say.”

“Happy Birthday, darling.”

It may take some time, but you think you could grow to like your birthday. At very least, as Loki kissed you again, you knew you never had to worry about being left alone. No, not when Loki would be there for you until the end of time and every moment after.

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