#i tried so many times to make something for that verse i have the entire thing thought out and its like 7 lines which is manageable right??

[nonbinary-morro]

Ok yea this animatic plaguing my brain is not coming into existence any time soon so

Humble request for all citrusshippers to do me a solid and imagine this verse:

of:

But with lighthouse au morro and echo please and thank you :')

...Also! just, the entirety of photographic memories, it's so them I am biting I am killing.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

You know I had seen some headcanons about ghostflower as parents, and here is a bit of my take on that.

Miles is the responsible dad, Gwen is the fun mom.

And that assumption has entirely to do with this.

Yep, I think the roles would be reversed for them, hear me out.

Miles was raised by loving and present parents, they have room for improvement but I don't doubt that Jeff and Rio knew how to establish healthy boundaries, knew when to be strict and when to be more permissive, and are all overall supportive, amazing parents.

Now, the thing about Gwen's parents-

Mom we know nothing, Gwen's mom is never mentioned in the spider-verse movies and again, I haven't read all of her comics, but if that woman was mentioned I don't remember. I normally assume she died when Gwen was very young so she doesn't have too many memories of her.

This leaves us with George.

So, I don't think George is the worst, I have my issues and I would scream at him until he goes deaf- but you can see at the end that he loves Gwen, and while he doesn't know what he is doing, he is trying.

We haven't seen much of him, but what did I notice?

He is not good with emotional intelligence; he doesn't realize that telling Gwen how the case is doing will not make her feel better (and it has to be a while since Peter died, he should know this by now.) Clearly doesn't know what to say to cheer her up. Tries to talk about his job and his duty when he doesn't know how to proceed.

And then he leaves because there was an emergency with the police; and is obvious this is not a rare occurrence. As someone who was basically raised by a single parent doing a lot of hours at work, I can tell you by this interaction that Gwen probably spend hours or entire nights alone.

So, how does translate to their parent styles?

Miles would feel a lot more confident in his role as a parent, he would definitely read a lot of books and would have his parents on speed dial; but Miles he is also a natural. He would thinking back on how his parents raise him, looking back in their decisions and understanding where they are coming from, and overall end up finding a middle point between how he grew up, and what he thinks is right for him and his family.

I will share what he does when the kids are older while sharing Gwen's approach.

Gwen on the other hand? Extremely anxious, Miles needed to reassure her a lot specially at the beginning. She can barely remember her mom, and her dad wasn't the most present. While I think by this point the relationship between her and Miles's parents would be better, I think part of her would also be afraid looking incompetent in comparison to Rio.

Later when the kids are older, Gwen defaults more to let the kids play and do things that they probably shouldn't "Is just one day/night," "Oh when I was their age I was trying to imitate the gymnasts on the TV, at least they are a lot more resistant that I was!" and "Hmmm, maybe this is something we should ask your father too."

Gwen's laxer approach was thanks to not being heavily supervised and not realizing when is too much at times, or thinking these is one of those things kids should learn and it would be fine.

Thanks to this, Miles is normally the one who needs to more strict and reasonable. "No, we can't have popcorn and ice cream for dinner, it doesn't matter if is Friday and summer is starting"; "I DON'T CARE IF YOU CAN HANDLE FALLING 6 FEET TO THE GROUND, YOU ARE NOT PRACTISING TIGHT ROPE!" and "I told you no, and don't go asking your mother just so she can say yes, I will find out."

Miles is still, the one parent to go when the kids are sad, upset or need to be hear out. While he may be stricter of the two and tries to stop anything that he deems too far; he knows the best how to de-escalate a situation and see reason.

Gwen while a lot of times doesn't know what to do, their kids always go to her when they just need a hug and be comforted. While Gwen a lot of times doesn't know what to say to make things better, or what advice to give; she never shy's away from telling her kids that sometimes they will make mistakes, and she would do too, but that never means they deserve any less love or compassion; no matter how hard the world is or the mistakes they make, Gwen promises to be there at any point, and that Miles and her would never stop loving them.

There is a lot of adjustments and discussions, but they balance it out.

[stellamancer]

considerate (reader x satoru gojo)

notes: blah blah blah comfort fic. lmaoo. um, i love steamed buns. i bought some frozen pizza buns from my local japanese grocery store during the writing process. they are indeed good. if you have never had them i hope you get to try one day.

contains: f!reader (inferred to be wearing lingerie), tsundere-ish reader, eating food, gojo. part of the infinite loop fic verse

wc: 2k || read on ao3 (account required)

All you want to do is sleep.

It’s been a rough week— three difficult missions back to back with no time to rest in between. By the time you’d finished the last one, you were practically dead on your feet. It’s times like these that you’re glad for the room you have on the campus of Jujutsu High; you think you’ll collapse before you can make it back to your actual apartment.

In fact, you almost do anyway– you’re barely through the door of your room when the exhaustion tries to take you by force. It takes every fiber of your being to at least shed your curse-stained clothes before you become one with the bed.

Your sleep is blissfully empty.

And it ends far too soon.

A loud series of knocks forces you from your slumber. You groan and pull the pillow over your head as if it’ll make the sound stop, but it doesn’t. After a few minutes of constant, incessant banging, you finally give up and crawl out of bed.

There’s only one person you know who would relentlessly pound someone’s door and when you throw your door open you find him— Satoru Gojo on the other side. He’s dressed casually, comfortably in sweats and a hoodie, for a day off, sporting tinted glasses instead of that blindfold he likes so much.

“What?” you demand.

Gojo peers at you over the top of his glasses, lips twitching as if he’s trying not to smile. “You need a minute?���

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

The smile finally makes its way onto his face and you can’t help but feel annoyed. Gojo points at you with a long, slender finger and says. “Matching set, huh?”

It’s then that you realize that you are only wearing your underwear.

Embarrassment surges through your body. You had forgotten that you hadn’t bothered changing into any sort of sleepwear— you’d only taken off your dirty clothes. Mortified, you slam the door in Gojo’s face.

If thoughts could kill, one of you would be dead on the floor right now; you haven’t quite decided who yet.

You shuffle around your room and throw on the first set of comfortable clothes you can find. Just as you’re fitting your head through the sweatshirt you hear him knock again.

“I’m still out here!” he hollers.

“Get lost!” you snap.

“But I brought food!” he whines. “I brought steamed buns!”

His words make you pause. When was the last time you ate? Yesterday morning? You don’t feel particularly hungry, but that could be because you just woke up.

“They’re getting cold!”

You weigh your options. Accepting food from Gojo is far from the worst thing in the world. It also saves you the effort of going to find something; it’s your day off, and the less you have to move the better.

With a heavy sigh, you finish dressing before opening the door again. The second Gojo comes into view, he beams at you and holds up a plastic bag from FamilyMart. You reach for it, but he raises it up, keeping it out of your grasp.

“Now, now,” he tuts as if he is reprimanding an overeager child. “I was thinking we could share. There’s way too many for one person, don’t you think?”

You don’t know how many steamed buns are in there, but you’ve seen Gojo eat: you know he could polish off that whole bag. Honestly, you probably could too. “Wanna bet?”

Gojo grins. “Sure. If you can’t finish them all then you have to spend the entire day with me.”

Not the way you’d want to spend your day off. “And if I can?”

“Then you get to have all the steamed buns I bought!” he says cheerfully. “Awesome prize, right?”

You scowl. “No, that's a shit prize and you know it.”

“Okay then, what kind of prize would you prefer?” There’s something ominous about the way Gojo’s looking at you right now; he’s smiling but you feel almost as if you’re looking at some sort of feral predator. Letting you choose your own prize sounds like some sort of trap and you wouldn't put it past him to twist whatever you choose to suit his own agenda.

“...can I think about it while I eat?” you ask.

“Sure.” Gojo shoots you a knowing smile, fully aware of the fact that you're just trying to buy time to figure out how to get out of whatever he's scheming. He hands you the bag of steamed buns and pushes past you into your room, settling himself against the wall opposite your bed.

You peer into the shopping bag and even though he said he’d brought steamed buns there’s other stuff in the bag. Some other miscellaneous snacks, candy and a few bottles of water and Gojo’s favorite brand of cola. A little excessive, but then again, everything about Gojo is excessive. You fish out the paper bag holding your food and hand the rest to Gojo before plopping back onto your bed. Knowing who bought them, you expect to find only red bean buns and custard buns in the paper bag; after all, his sweet tooth knows no bounds. But, to your surprise, there’s actually a bit of variety. You recognize the smooth tops of what are either red bean buns or custard buns, but also the crimped tops of what are likely pork buns as well as…

“Pizza buns…?” you mutter quietly, fishing one from the bag. Similar to the pork buns, they have a crimped top, but instead of a pale off white of a regular pork bun, the bread is a pale orange color.

Gojo chuckles and you look up at him. There's a cocky grin plastered to his face. “They are your favorite, aren't they?”

You gawk at him, heartbeat stuttering a little in your chest. He’s right; they are your favorite, but you’ve only ever mentioned it a handful of times.

It’s… surprising that he even remembered.

Gojo always manages to catch you off-guard when he remembers the little things like this. It really shouldn’t surprise you; he’s the same way with his students, and yet…

Your heart skips yet another set of beats.

“Did you finally fall in love with me?” he asks, sounding infinitely amused.

His question reminds you that, surprisingly thoughtful or not, Satoru Gojo still remains to be the most annoying man in existence. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, if you say so…” His tone makes it clear that he doesn't believe you and you know better than to try and convince him otherwise; Gojo can be as delusional as he wants. “Better eat up before they get all sad and cold!”

“Yeah, yeah…” You grumble. “Thanks again.”

You shove the pizza bun in your mouth. It's the perfect temperature: hot but not enough to scald your tongue. You finish it in a few bites and grab another. From the looks of it, there's probably a little over a dozen steamed buns in the bag. You think that's doable as you polish off your second bun (a juicy pork bun).

As you start to eat the third (a cheese curry bun), you notice Gojo staring at you over the top of his glasses. His eyes, unnaturally bright and blue as always bore into you; and something about his gaze is almost expectant, waiting— for what you don’t really know. It’s kind of weird, honestly, you would have expected him to play with his phone or whatever, not just… watch you eat. Without averting your gaze, you slowly take a bite into the steamed bun.

Gojo continues to watch you.

Creepy.

You keep staring back at him as you finish the third bun and you don’t break eye contact as you reach in for another one. Gojo continues to watch you, his expression focused. You’re starting to get a little unnerved now. It doesn’t even seem like he’s blinking. You shift a little to the left and his eyes follow the movement.

Halfway through the fourth bun (a custard bun), you decide to finally say something. “Do you have to stare?”

Gojo snickers, mischievous. That never means anything good. “Yeah? I mean, I have to make sure you eat them all, don’t I?”

“...do you think I’m going to shove them in my shirt and hide them or something?”

For a split second, his expression falters, the briefest look of shock crossing his features before he snorts. “You’re welcome to try, but it’s an automatic loss if you do!”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. No way that you’re going to waste perfectly good steamed buns. That just means you’ll have to ignore Gojo’s incessant starting.

Which turns out to be easier said than done.

After your fifth bun, you’re starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Almost like you’re an animal in a zoo. Not only that, but you’ve noticed that Gojo’s been slowly moving closer. He started over against the wall, but now he’s practically at your feet, staring up at you. HIs pupils are blown wide and it’s almost like he’s staring into your soul.

You stop eating.

You wait for Gojo to say something, some smartass remark or tease you about being full or something.

He says nothing.

Gojo only continues to stare at you, silent as his eyes look impossibly bigger. It doesn’t just look like he’s begging for one of the steamed buns, but for something else. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as you try to figure out what it could possibly be. With each second, the thumping grows louder and louder and Gojo seems to be moving closer and closer despite being still firmly planted to the ground.

Is it you that’s inching toward him now?

The realization startles you. Why would you even—? Panicked, you reach into the bag and pull out a bun at random and shove it in Gojo’s face. He makes a surprised sound but it’s muffled by the bun.

“Just take one already!” you exclaim, pressing it to his mouth as hard as you can without smashing it to pieces. It occurs to you that he might gloat about you feeding him by hand but you’ll deal with that later. You need to get him to stop looking at you like that now.

He laughs, triumphant as he removes the bun from your grasp and takes a big, big bite out of it. “Looks like I win. As usual.”

You merely grumble, watching as he polishes off the steamed bun in no time flat. He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers and you hand him another. It’s fine. Just because you can finish all these steamed buns doesn’t mean that you should.

As for having to spend the entire day with Gojo… You try to look on the bright side and tell yourself that there are worse fates out there. After all, you could be working.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Gojo asks mid-bite.

“I don’t really wanna do much of anything,” you grouse. You suppose it’s nice of Gojo to ask, when you know the reality is that you’ll be at the mercy of his whims for the rest of the day. Mentally, you brace yourself to be dragged around Tokyo, shopping or whatever it is he likes to do on his time off.

Gojo chuckles softly and the sound of it makes your stomach drop. You don’t like it. Something about it is dangerous. “Okay, let’s just stay here then, play a video game or something.”

You can’t help but stare at him. Then you think of the snacks and drinks he brought along and the fact that he’s dressed more for lounging than going out. You wouldn’t put it past Gojo to intend to occupy your entire day, but could it be that he planned to just hang out in your room the entire time? Playing video games or watching movies because he figured you wouldn’t have the energy to go anywhere.

No.

There’s no way that the most selfish and annoying man you know is that considerate.

Gojo tilts his head to the side and offers you a gentle smile, eyes glimmering behind his glasses. You swallow thickly, nervously, ignoring the odd feeling in your chest. There’s just no way.

No way at all.

after many hours of playing video games with gojo you muster the energy to tell him you want to go out to eat. he pays. it's not a date (it's so totally a date).

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 5: Forgotten

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your family gains new additions.

Hello! My sincere apologies for how long this took. I got massively sidetracked by researching how to bind a book, the interest in which hit at a completely inappropriate time in the writing-editing-crafting cycle, lol. I should definitely be focusing on finishing this thing before I start fixating on binding books. Anyway; this chapter is a little time-jumpy, given that I have to speed through a bunch of time. Also, note that I've fudged with the ages of Alicent's kids, so in Episode 3, know that she is now pregnant with Aemond, not Helaena like in the show. It's the only way to make him of-age in the Episode 8 scenes. Thank you to @randomdragonfires for workshopping this shitto for me, ahahaha! Happy (and well-deserved) holidays to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs, who I have graciously given a night off of slaving away for me, lol.

TRIGGERS: continued discussion of child grief, Viserys's shenanigans in impregnating an underaged Alicent (canon, this is NOT MY ADDITION).

When Alicent gets married to Papa, they have a big ceremony. So so many people come from all over the kingdom to see Papa take a new Queen, and the days of the wedding—there are lots of days to them starting in marriage—are full of more noise and colour and movement than you could ever think was real.

Her dress is very pretty, and Papa looks very nice in his new coat, but neither of them look so happy as people who are going to be in marriage should be. Papa keeps playing with the ring on his finger that is from Mama, while Alicent just looks like she is afraid. You think it might be because of how loud everyone is being.

’Nyra isn’t happy, either. She keeps you on her lap the entire time with an angry look on her face and doesn’t speak to Alicent very much at all, but at least she tries to be kind when she does. She ignores Papa, and because you are all sitting at the high table and everyone is watching you, he cannot tell her she is being rude and naughty.

Because you don’t want to look at Alicent’s unhappy face or ’Nyra’s angry one, you play with your sister’s necklace, letting the shiny metal take all your attention. It is Valyrian steel, which is what Papa’s and Uncle’s swords are made out of, so it is very special. Uncle gave it to her. When you let your fingers swirl over the ruby in the middle of the big pendant over and over, you pretend that it’s a part of him and that he’s here, after all.

After the big ceremony is done, life goes back to almost-normal. Now that Alicent is Papa’s Queen, she is something called a stepmother, meaning that Brella and Septa and all the people who are made to look after you and ’Nyra have to talk to her about you both. She is like your mama. You wake up and break your fast with Alicent, and she cuts up your food instead of Mama, and she takes you outside to play and tells you about the names of the flowers. Then, when it is time to sleep again, she reads you a story. You think that she likes it very much because she always seems sad until she sees you, and then her face goes bright like the sun.

‘Nyra doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it at all. When she learns that Alicent is acting like your mama, her face goes very red like she’s going to scream, but she just goes very quiet instead and storms out of your rooms. For that whole day, ’Nyra takes you to the gardens and to see Syrax and to the library to learn some more High Valyrian, her new sworn shield Ser Criston behind her all the time. She never once lets you go see Alicent to do the things you normally do. When you finally get to be in the room with her at suppertime with Papa and ’Nyra, which Papa has said you all must do now so that everyone can get along, all she does is give you a small smile that doesn’t make her eyes go bright like usual and ask about your big day with your sister.

That is how things are for a while. Either you will go through your days with Alicent or with ’Nyra, and never both in one day because ’Nyra is still so angry at Alicent for being in marriage with Papa. You keep asking why, but your sister doesn’t tell you anything. She just goes quiet and frowns and mutters things you cannot hear. Meanwhile, Alicent will always stop, take a big breath that sounds shaky when she lets it out, and say, “I have no quarrel with Rhaenyra. She is as welcome to my rooms and in my company as you are, Princess.”

You think that might be a lie.

One day, though, everything changes.

’Nyra decides to take you to the library so that you can look at more books in High Valyrian. Even the books written in the Common Tongue make no sense to you yet, and Brella told you this is because you are not old enough to learn reading properly. Still, your sister says that it is still good to try when you’re young, so she sits beside you and points out all the funny-looking symbols and tells you what they mean all together. You fall asleep in there instead of having a nap in your bed, but ’Nyra just puts a blanket over you and keeps reading. When you wake, you listen to her voice as she speaks the words from the pages aloud. You don’t understand all of it, but you think you’ve learned more and more since Mama died and she stopped being friends with Alicent. It means she has lots of time for you. Maybe that shouldn’t make you happy, but you cannot help it.

At supper, you see Lord Hightower, Alicent’s papa, beside her. That means that you have to be next to ’Nyra tonight, so you follow her to her side of the table and sit in the chair that the maid pulls out for you. The chair is higher than the others, made special so that you can reach the food that is put before you. Looking around, it is easy to tell that something is different from how happy Lord Hightower looks and how smiling Papa’s face is.

“My two daughters,” he says a bit too loudly, cheeks bright red. His cup is in front of him, and the gold shines red from the drink inside. Wine, you think. It is for men and women, not little girls, and it makes the people who drink it act strange like Papa is now. He waves his hand in a ‘hello’ as he lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a sip. “Ah!”

’Nyra starts eating her food without a word. Everyone has plates with different foods on it, but you have a bowl in front of your seat. Because you are small, the cooks always give you pottage for your supper so that you can eat it with a spoon and no one has to cut things up for you. You don’t always like it—there are lots of lumps and you can never tell what taste is going to be in your mouth with each bite—but it is warm and makes your tummy nice and full.

The room is full of the sounds of chewing and clack-clacking when the knives and forks hit the plates. You pick up your spoon and scoop up some food. There are dark bits, which means the cooks have put meat in it. You scrunch your nose.

Papa coughs between bites. He is still smiling a lot. “It seems like an age since I saw you last!”

“We had supper with you yesterday evening,” ’Nyra says.

“Ah, yes!” He takes another drink of his wine. Maybe he shouldn’t, because he is blinking very much like you do when you’re trying to stay awake. “Perhaps the waiting has made it seem longer.”

“Waiting?”

“I am sure you have noticed Otto’s presence by now.”

’Nyra doesn’t even look at the man. “My lord.” Her voice seems cold.

“Princess.” Lord Hightower bends his head, but he doesn’t sound very happy either.

Alicent puts her hand on Papa’s arm. ’Nyra watches so closely that you wonder if her eyes can make holes in other people’s skin. “I—we—have some news, Rhaenyra.”

“Oh?” She sounds bored.

“Well…”

When Alicent doesn’t say anything, ’Nyra makes a huffing noise. It is very rude. “Well?” she asks, looking between Alicent and Papa. “What is it, then? Everyone’s acting rather strange.”

“Alicent is with child,” Papa says.

‘With child’ is what people say when a baby is growing in a lady’s belly. It’s what Mama told you before Baelon grew very large inside her.

’Nyra freezes, almost like she has forgotten how to move. No one says anything. Papa’s smile—the one that his words made so much bigger when he said them out loud—begins to fall, more and more with each moment that ’Nyra does nothing at all. Then, it goes away completely, and he’s no longer happy like he was.

It’s quiet again. Not the nice kind—the kind that means that someone is about to yell or be naughty.

“A baby?” you ask. Maybe you can stop the bad from happening if you help everyone remember that you’re still here.

Alicent looks at you, the fear leaving her face a little. She nods. “Yes, Princess. You’re to have a brother or sis—”

“Half-brother.” ’Nyra’s lips move, but the rest of her stays still. She cannot stop staring between Papa and Alicent. “Or half-sister. Either way, they will not be your full blood.”

“You are correct, Princess.” From the way Lord Hightower speaks and how silent Alicent and Papa are at ’Nyra’s words, you think she must have said something quite mean. He gives her a little smile, one that makes her hands squeeze really tight on her knife and fork. “Even so, these are glad tidings, indeed. Let us all pray for the Queen to be delivered of a son.”

“I’m sure that would be of great benefit to the Hightowers, my Lord. A son… to solidify your claim to my father’s throne.”

Lord Hightower stops smiling. Alicent gasps.

Papa makes a small noise. “Rhaenyra—”

All at once, she stands, the plate in front of her clattering loudly with how quick she rises. “Congratulations, Your Grace.” She doesn’t sound very happy for Alicent, even if the words are nice. “Forgive me—I feel suddenly unwell.”

“Daughter—”

’Nyra ignores Papa and storms out of the room, leaving her food only half-eaten. The rest of supper is very quiet, the loudest noise of all being the sound of your own breathing.

Isn’t a baby meant to be happy news? you wonder. You look around, but no one here is very happy—except for Lord Hightower. Though he isn’t smiling, he has his head held high like he has had every one of his wishes granted all at once.

“What do you think, Princess?” Brella asks.

You stare down into the cradle at the baby. Your brother. Aegon. He is squirming, face bright red, squished and crying. He hasn’t stopped even once since you came into the room. He might have been crying since before you did, even. Aside from the bright hair on top of his head, you don’t think he looks very much like you.

“He’s nice,” is what you say, but you don’t know if you really mean it. It’s more for Alicent, who is watching you from over on the bed. She looks very tired. If you said something less kind, she may cry.

Alicent smiles. “Thank you, Princess. Nurse—bring him to me, please.”

She doesn’t mean Brella. There is another woman here, Gwenys, who Lord Hightower and Septa Marlow assigned to help give Aegon milk and take care of him when Alicent cannot. Gwenys comes and picks up the baby, walking over to give him to Alicent. She rocks him in her arms which doesn’t stop him from crying, but she still keeps on bouncing him softly. He is very unhappy.

Now that Alicent is holding Aegon, you know that she’ll forget you are there. Ever since Papa told you and ’Nyra that he was in Alicent’s belly, neither of them have had much time for you. It feels like all the people in the Keep—from Papa and Alicent and Lord Hightower to the servants and maids and stableboys—have been more excited for the baby than they ever were for you. The only person who has remembered you is ’Nyra, and so you are with her on most days. It sometimes makes you sad, because it really was very fun to play pretend that Alicent was your mama for a while, but ’Nyra says that it wasn’t going to last, anyway.

“She is to have her own child to care for, now,” she told you in the days after learning about the new baby. “You were good practice—but you aren’t her blood, not really. Not like you and I. Her son will be born, and you’ll be given to a nurse or a Septa to raise.” When you cried, she bent down and wiped away your tears. “It doesn’t make her a bad person,” she said quietly. “But this is the way of the world, sister. Men and women, kings and queens… they all want sons. Us daughters must stick together, yes?”

’Nyra was right. At first, Alicent tried to keep pretending to be like your mama. But then, the baby made her very ill, so she stopped asking you to come to break your fast so you wouldn’t have to see her being sick into the pail by her bed. Then, she spent so much time sleeping that she didn’t have the energy to come outside with you, or to dance with you, and soon, the only time you would see her was at suppertime. Even that wasn’t always. And now the baby is here, you don’t think she will be going back to the way it used to be.

Maybe that is why he feels like such a stranger to you. At least with baby Baelon, you got to feel him kicking in Mama’s tummy. Aegon wasn’t here for so long, and then all of a sudden, he was. He is. You don’t know him at all. He’s just a baby, come to take your Papa and almost-Mama away from you like all the rest.

Brella’s hand on your shoulder is what helps you walk towards the door, Alicent and Aegon staying in the room behind you. With your back turned, it’s easier to pretend that Alicent is very sad by you leaving.

The more moons pass, the more faded Mama’s face is in your memory. You try to hold onto the way her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she smiled, or how her hair would curl a bit like yours after her bath, or the way she’d smell like roses when she hugged you tight. It slips away, out of reach. Putting rose oil in your bath helps you, but only a little bit—and the longer that Mama is gone, the less you can remember of her.

Papa doesn’t like to talk about her. When you ask him, he just spins the ring on his finger around and says, “Another time, perhaps.” You know that ‘another time’ really means ‘never’.

There is no one else in the Keep that really knew her like you and your family knew her, except ’Nyra. She tells you stories sometimes, but you don’t ask a lot because she usually likes to tell the ones that have you in them. When she finishes, she always smiles and asks, “Do you remember?” You never can, and it leaves you feeling like someone has scooped out all your insides.

So, Mama fades, and becomes part of that place in your mind where the things that are being forgotten go. Even though you try and try and try, there is nothing that can stop the forgetting. One day, you think she might be nothing more than a quiet sort of sadness, like looking out the window at the rain and wondering why it makes your chest hurt so much.

Seeing Alicent with Aegon is the only thing that reminds you of her. Even though Alicent’s hair is red where Mama’s was silver, and Aegon is loud and angry where you are quiet and shy, the way that she kisses his cheeks or hums little songs under her breath to him makes you think of how Mama would do the same for you. He doesn’t seem to be very happy when she does these things. If it were you in his place, you know you’d be better than him. You wish she’d realise that.

It seems like no time at all goes by when Alicent is with child again, meaning she’s going to have another baby. If it is anything like Aegon, you do not think you’ll like it very much. Sometimes, you feel very naughty for it, but you cannot help how he makes you feel. All he wants to do is make a fuss and take everyone’s attention, and he keeps crying and being naughty even as Alicent’s belly grows bigger and bigger with your new brother or sister.

When Helaena is born, Papa and Lord Hightower aren’t as pleased as they were with Aegon. You can tell because, while they are both in the room when you come to meet her, neither one is looking at her as she lays in the cradle. They had both been looking down at Aegon last time. You think it is because Helaena is a girl, like you and ’Nyra. You decide that you have to love her if they won’t.

She is a quiet baby, but so still that it makes Gwenys worry and worry, even though all she is doing is lying in her cradle and staring straight up. Maybe she knows how rude her big brother is, you think, and she wants to do and be all the things he isn’t.

You weren’t allowed to hold Aegon because he was so disagreeable, which means he would probably have screamed and cried if you did. He still screams and cries, which is why Alicent has to spend all her days with him even though she’s just had a second baby, so Helaena is by herself with Gwenys most hours.

Helaena isn’t like Aegon. This time, Gwenys has you sit in a chair with a pillow under your arm and brings the baby to you. “Mind her head,” she says, tugging your arm forward so that Helaena fits nicely in your arms. “There we go.”

She is a big baby, round and heavy and warm, but you don’t mind because she gazes up at you with large blue eyes that look like they might turn purple when she gets older. The hairs she has on her head—and there aren’t many, not like Aegon had—are silver, and you know that she will look very much like you when she has grown more. When you stroke a finger over the skin on her hand, her whole fist grabs onto it, strong even though she is so young. It’s like she knows who you are, even without any words being said.

You wonder if this is how ’Nyra felt when she met you—a burning that tingles all through your arms and legs, not in a way that hurts, no, but in a way that makes you want to squeeze tight and never let go.

Helaena doesn’t cry. She falls asleep while you’re holding her, her face turned into you so that you can feel her tiny breaths through your dress. It is special and warm and love-feeling like Alicent used to be, like Mama was when she was not-dead. The hurt goes far away, still there but not so much, not so heavy in your chest.

For a little while, the sadness—of forgetting Mama, of being forgotten by so many others—fades away, too.

When you are five summers old, you have to say goodbye to Brella.

All the while you are breaking your fast, she looks like she is about to start crying. Even though you wonder why, you don’t ask. When someone cries, it means that something bad has happened. So much bad has already happened, and you don’t know if you want to hear any more. You eat in quiet, scooping porridge into your mouth while the sound of sniffles fills the room. The taste of honey would make you feel happy, but not when Brella is so upset. Your food sinks to the bottom of your belly like one of the hot bricks you sometimes get under your blankets when it’s very cold at night, only there’s nothing nice about it. It’s hard and rough and makes you feel sick.

After you have finished every bite—you have to eat all of it, or you don’t get to play—Brella takes you by the hand and leads you to the chair. “There is… there is something I have to tell you,” she says, slow and shaky.

I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. You wish that you were like ’Nyra, that you could say the words out loud—but you cannot. You don’t want to know, but you say nothing, and you wait for whatever bad thing is coming to show itself.

“I…” Brella swallows and looks down at your hands, still holding onto each other even though you are sitting and there is no need. “Tell me again how old you are, Princess.”

“Five summers.” It’s a very small number, but you are still proud because you’re almost a big girl now.

Brella laughs, nodding. “That’s right. Five. My goodness. How time flies!”

You find that silly. Time doesn’t fly. It isn’t a thing-you-can-touch, and only things-you-can-touch can fly, like dragons or birds or insects. Still, you try not to show your thinking on your face as Brella squeezes your hand tighter.

“Being five summers old is a very important milestone when you’re a prince or princess,” she says. “Do you know why?”

“No,” you say. “Why?”

Here, she stops. “It… It means—gods, I don’t know if I can say it.”

“Well, then. It appears that I must,” comes a voice from the door.

You turn. Septa Marlow stands with her hands joined in front of her, her mouth pinched into a line so small it is like it has disappeared from her face. Her grey wimple makes her skin look just as colourless. She steps forward, and the sound of her shoes touching the ground seems as loud as thunder.

“You are of an age to begin your lessons, Princess. Thus, it is time for your nurse”—she looks at Brella and her lip curls, though you cannot tell if she’s happy or angry—“to depart, and for me to take over your care.”

The sick feeling gets worse, and you wonder if you might bring up all your food from how bad the pains are in your belly. “But—but Brella will still stay, though? For Aegon and Helaena?”

Septa Marlow huffs. “There is no need, silly child. Their nurse has already been appointed, and Gwenys will suffice for any future children borne by the Queen. Brella is to collect her things and return to the Vale.”

Brella has taught you some of the places on the map that shows Papa’s kingdom. You live in King’s Landing, which is in the Crownlands, and it is at the bottom of the map. The Vale is where Mother—Mother, not Mama, Mama is for babies and I am not a baby anymore, you have to keep telling yourself—came from, that it is a bit up and to the side from the Crownlands. It isn’t that far in the drawings, but Brella says that maps show a smaller picture of what is really a very, very long distance.

If Brella has to return to the Vale, it means she will be very, very far away.

You think you might be frozen, like ice. You cannot say anything. All that you can think, over and over, is no, no, no, please, not Brella, no, no, no. The fire-burn of tears warms behind your eyes, but you know that you cannot let Septa see you cry. She’ll think you are weak.

Brella sniffles. “I can write to you,” she says, pulling you closer to her. “And, when you’re old enough, you can write to me. How about that?”

You nod, but her words don’t make you feel better. Paper isn’t the same as a person, not really. Even if she puts letters on paper and sends them to you, it won’t be like one of her hugs or the way she laughs when you miss a dance step or fall over in the grass. It won’t smell like her or look like her. It won’t make you feel safe like she does.

She will turn not-real like Mother. Only, maybe it is worse—because you’ll know that, somewhere a long way away from you, she will be real, but that you cannot have her anymore.

“I don’t want you to go,” is what you say, but it comes out like a whisper, not strong like you wanted it to.

“I know, my darling,” Brella says, hugging you tight so that you can feel her heart beating through her skin and yours. “I know, and I’m so sorry—”

“If you could unhand my charge, Nurse.” Septa’s eyebrow is raised. “Although—now that it occurs to me—‘nurse’ is no longer the appropriate moniker, is it?”

Brella glares at her. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Your time here is at an end.” Even though she looks like she’s trying not to show her feelings on her face, Septa lifts her chin in the air like ’Nyra used to when she would win at cyvasse against Alicent. “Say your goodbyes.”

“What—here? Now?” Brella’s mouth is open like she’s very surprised. “I’d thought the Princess would be coming to see me off at the harb—”

“That is not a good idea. She is too… attached.” Septa says it like it is a curse. “A public display of histrionics does not a respectable Princess make, no matter her juvenility.” You have no idea what most of these words mean, but the way they make Brella sink in her seat cannot be a good thing.

She tucks your hair behind your ears as she looks down at you, her eyes wet. “Be good,” she says, very soft so that Septa cannot hear them well. “Make sure you write to me, yes?”

She brushes her thumbs over your cheeks—out, in, out, in—the way she does when she really means ‘I love you’.

“Please stay,” you whisper, trying not to let your lower lip wobble like it wants to so badly. “Please don’t go.”

Brella hugs you again, her whole body shaking. Your face is smushed up against her shoulder, the smell of her herness filling your nose with so much warm. You wonder if, by clinging on tight, you can stop her from leaving. She cannot leave. She is what you have left now that Mam—Mother is gone, now that Papa has Alicent and ’Nyra has Papa and Uncle has his war somewhere away from you. She cannot leave. She cannot.

It feels like she has been holding on for forever and also for no time at all when she lets go, stands up, and walks away without a word. The door shuts.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Is it worse or better, watching her go away? you wonder through the cold that settles in your body, in your arms and legs, the sharpness of it so much that you feel like shivering even though the sun is shining hot outside. You never saw Mother die. She was here, and then she wasn’t. But you have to watch Brella leave, knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it all the while.

“Dry your tears, girl. ‘Tis about time your coddling came to an end.” Septa pulls you by the shoulder off the chair. Her hand doesn’t feel warm like Brella’s does. Her stare—fixed on you—travels up and down, her mouth crinkling at the corner like she is thinking about something. “Why she was allowed to linger past your name day, I will never understand.”

You cannot think of anything to say, so you keep quiet. It doesn’t seem to make Septa like you any more than she did before, which you don’t think was very much. The tears keep falling, though you try and try to make them disappear.

“Now,” she says, clapping her hands sharply. The loudness of the noise makes you jump. Teardrops shake onto your dress. “We have a long day ahead of us. The Queen has requested an update on your progress, so you will be learning no less than three hymns before the end of the sennight. I should like to provide her with”—she looks you up and down again, and this time it seems like she is thinking something unkind about you—“some indication that you will shape up to be a lady of high standing.”

I’m a Princess, not a lady, you want to say. You don’t.

Septa begins striding away, then stops and turns around to face you. “I expect you to follow when I walk, and to acknowledge me when I speak by saying ‘Yes, Septa Marlow’.” She almost spits the words at you. “Understood?”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” It doesn’t sound as strong or as clear as when she said it. You wish you could sound less afraid. Still, she seems to find it good enough. She says nothing afterward, just waits for you to trail along after her.

“Hmph.” She clicks her tongue. Staring down at you again, she adds, “And stand up straight.”

You do as you’re told.

Septa Marlow is as frightfully mean as you always feared.

One thing you learn quickly is that everything you do and say is wrong. When you laugh, it is too ‘unbecoming’; when you smile, you show too much teeth; when you walk, you are too hunched over; when you eat, you are too ‘gluttonous’. You’re a ‘simpleton’ when you ask to play with your dolls, so they sit at the foot of your bed slowly being covered by dust; you’re ‘graceless’ when you try to dance, so you practice after you have been put to bed to try and get better before each morning; you’re ‘impertinent’ when you say what you’re thinking instead of keeping it to yourself, so you learn to let your thoughts stay inside your head. There is little that she doesn’t pick on and tell you that you need to change.

“Use full words, please!” she says whenever you forget to speak in the proper way that she expects. She always raps her willow switch on the table in front of you after that. Lucky for you, she has not yet used it to hurt you. “It is ‘does not’, not ‘doesn’t’. There is no need to employ such low-class mannerisms as a lady of your standing!”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” There is no point trying to tell her that she’s wrong.

It isn’t all bad, though. Having Septa Marlow take over means that you are now expected to learn all sorts of things, and a lot of it is very interesting. New words, new Houses, new hymns, new dances—you start to learn how to sew, how to put letters together to read them, how to count numbers and add and take them away to make different numbers. Septa says that there are so many things a noblewoman like you needs to be able to do by the time she is ready to be married, so that she can run her husband’s household and take care of him and her future children. That is a long time from now, but practice makes perfect.

The only time you are not with Septa is when you are with your family, like today.

Because Aegon has lived past being a baby—and Septa says that babies die a lot from the weather or from being sick or from being fed too much or too little or sometimes for no reason at all—Papa has announced that everyone must go on a hunt to celebrate his name day. You have to sit in the wheelhouse with he and Alicent and ’Nyra and Aegon and three other nurses, but not Helaena. She’s only a baby still, so she must stay in the Keep with Gwenys.

It is not a very fun ride. Being in a wheelhouse with them all means putting ’Nyra very close to Alicent, whose belly has grown big with a baby again. Lots of people have lots to say about how many babies Alicent has had since she married Papa, and most of it is not very nice towards your mother. She could only have two girls, and it took her a long time to have you after ’Nyra.

Papa thinks there is another boy in Alicent’s belly. You hope not. Aegon is loud and rude. You think it might be worse if there were two of him instead of just one.

“…whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood,” Papa is saying. You swing your legs back and forth, though you must stop each time you roll over a big bump in the road. You stay quiet, because Septa says a lady does not talk unless she is asked a question.

A very big bump in the road makes Alicent’s smile fall from her face.

“Should you be travelling in such condition?” ’Nyra asks. She sounds worried, even though she is no longer friends with Alicent.

“The maester said that being out in nature would do me well,” is what Alicent says back.

Papa starts talking while he finishes giving Aegon a sip from his cup. You wonder if it’s wine. “Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late, and make me a proud grandsire.” He is smiling, perhaps at the thought of it.

‘No, I will not,’ the look on ’Nyra’s face seems to say. You cannot help but agree with her. Having babies seems like such a tiring thing to do.

“It's not so bad.” Alicent has to speak louder to be heard over the rattling of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the horses. “The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss. Helaena, too.”

The nurse who is holding Aegon in her lap—Delia, you think her name is—waves a toy dragon in front of him. He smacks at it with his hands, frowning. You would never treat your toys like that.

“You should ride out with me today,” Papa says to ’Nyra. “Join in the chase, while you”—his eyes go to you—“sit about with your lady stepmother. Hm?”

“Okay, Papa,” you say quietly. Proper ladies do what their fathers tell them to.

’Nyra’s hand finds yours. “I’d rather not. The boars squeal like children when they're being slaughtered.” From the way her fingers squeeze yours and her stare fixes on Aegon, you know she doesn’t mean you when she says that. “I find it discomfiting.”

“It's a hunt, Rhaenyra.” Papa smiles. It is a careful sort of smile, not a happy one. Aegon’s yell distracts him for a moment, but he is quick to return to speaking to ’Nyra. “How would you like to participate?” he asks her.

“I’d be leaving my sister alone with the vultures of the Realm,” ’Nyra says, “so I'm not sure why I must.”

Trying to understand what everyone means by what they say is very difficult—you aren’t sure if she’s saying that the ladies coming along are vultures, or if she’s trying to say Alicent is. You don’t even know what a vulture is, so you aren’t sure if it is a bad or good thing to be.

“Because you are my eldest daughter. The Princess.” Papa looks like he is finding it harder and harder to stop himself from telling ’Nyra off. “And you have duties.”

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” Your sister says it softly, but it is easy enough for you to hear from your place next to her.

Papa doesn’t, though. “I'm sorry?”

Instead of making up a lie or saying that she did not say anything at all, ’Nyra repeats herself louder. It is terribly rude, but you enjoy watching as you have always enjoyed watching her being brave against other people. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.”

“You wouldn't need to be reminded if you ever attended to them.”

“No one's here for me!”

Papa doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Neither does Alicent. They both just fall silent along with the nurses. Even Aegon stops making all his annoying noises, instead sitting so still that he could be sleeping if his eyes were not open.

You make sure to hold onto your sister’s hand even tighter. If there is anyone in the whole world who does know what to say, it is you. If only you were brave enough.

I understand, ’Nyra, you want to say. No one’s here for me, either. No one’s ever here for me.

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[spiderism]

Miguel’s conducting a census on the spider-verse when he lands himself on 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇-𝟐𝟏𝟑𝟕 – has no prior information since this is his initial visit, but on first glance recognizes that this is Nueva York; that usually means that the local superhero is Miguel O’Hara, or at least another variant of him. Only he finds out that here, it’s actually someone named Web-Shot, a souped-up version of his own late wife.

"Cariño." It was easier to say before – when everything was right, when his entire world hadn't collapsed in on itself. Now, the word feels strange. His brain reacts as if no time's passed at all; it takes effort for his mouth to form around each of the vowels and the consonants, though – like a rusted cog forced into service after being made stiff from years of disuse. 

And while you may walk and talk like her, you’re not. He tells himself not to be fooled by the way your face lights up when you see him, by the way your laughter fills the space between the two of you, and by the way you still tell jokes at his expense. 

But then you take the few steps necessary to close the distance to get to him, wrap your arms around his frame like he’s just come home after a long day of being out. It’s all too familiar – your body folding into his, how well the pieces fit together, the softness that he remembers so well; it’s every single inch of his wife that had been catalogued and filed away in the back of his mind for safekeeping – dust-ridden archives that he’d never thought he’d dig up again. You’re a memory in the flesh. 

“Web-Shot, because—”

“You shoot webs. That’s cute,” he says in a dry tone. 

“Alright, then. Let’s hear yours. You got something better?”

“Spider-man. It’s simple. Clean. Rolls off the tongue.”

“Wow, original. Was ‘Daddy Long Legs’ already taken?”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes. I see your sense of humor is consistent.”

“It’s why you fell for me, isn’t it?”

“Among other things,” he murmurs. “Pain in my ass—”

He asks where your Miguel is, needs to know if the two of you are together, but finds out that he died three months ago – fell from a clocktower during a bad fight he wasn’t supposed to be at, snapped his neck clean in half from the tension when you tried to catch him with your webbing and he ricocheted back up from the concrete like a damn bungee cord. The ring was in his pocket; he was supposed to propose that night before everything went to shit. So your time ended with him fast, early. Before you even really got to start your lives together. 

And this other Miguel, the one who shows up in your universe alive (sure) and well (debatable), gives you some insight to his world. His wife was a romantic – an idealist, a dreamer. He’s always been pragmatic – a man of science, an engineer, doing everything within his realm of possibility to make her visions come true. It’s been a long time since he talked about his history and his family: how he proposed, where they had the wedding, his daughter – the way everything was good and perfect until it wasn’t. 

After spending the night with you on the Empire State Building, he realizes how much you’re like his wife. It hits him hard, brings up too many emotions to the surface that he’d been tamping down all these years.

Nothing about any of this is fair. And it’s sad, heartbreaking. Especially—

“I didn’t get to grow old with you.”

“We could’ve had a lifetime together and it still wouldn’t have been enough. You get that, right?”

You convince him to stay. Try to, at least. He can be your Miguel, and it would all be so easy. He can take his retired wedding ring off the chain around his neck and slip it on where it belongs. 

But it’s not possible. He tells you that much – what can happen, the repercussions that ripple out and affect the multiverse web. Because he’s already attempted that – wouldn’t have given up without trying to get you back.

A part of him wants you to say it one last time. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Instead, he gets:

“Every version of me loves every version of you. And even though I haven’t gotten to see it for myself, I know that there’s no universe where that isn’t true.”

Before he leaves, you ask if he thinks there’s any chance the two of you are allowed to be happy, allowed to live normal lives in all of the places he’s seen. 

He tells you that he has: breakfast on the balcony, slow Sunday mornings, and weekend fútbol tourneys with your daughter. This story ends on a good note, but he doesn’t mention that it only exists inside his head.

[jo-harrington]

Peak Sales Hours (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his first Black Friday, Eddie is exhausted and takes comfort in his new relationship with you.

Previous Part: Promotion

Warnings/Themes: Established friendship/new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort(?), idk it's a lot of comfort, working in retail hell, Eddie works at Tape World and Reader is the Store Manager at Claire's in Starcourt Mall, angry customers, weariness

Note: So...hi guys. Welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. This little installment is sort of skipping a step. I had a whole thing planned and half-written of Eddie and our favorite SM actually confessing their feelings and being fluffy...and it's still gonna happen I'm just...on day whatever of work and have a big deadline and have had sleep for lunch the past I-don't-know how many days.

And it just took me back to the countless Black Friday and Peak Holiday shifts where all I wanted was to get back home. So here we are.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

Never, in his entire life, had Eddie Munson felt more akin to the heroes from his favorite fantasy stories.

Long journeys and harrowing battles.

Deep wounds and comrades lost to the beyond.

Hoards of villains and the promise of a better future if only there was hope.

Taran. Aragorn. Luke Skywalker. They had seen it all.

"What's taking so long? I just need a gift receipt!"

But none of them had ever worked Black Friday.

He had experienced Black Friday before, as a shopper.

Thanksgiving hadn't ever been anything magnificent in the Munson household, especially after his mom died. Wayne and Rick had always tried to make it still feel special for Eddie, with hearty midwest comfort foods.

There would always be a full belly and an even fuller heart with his uncle and his almost-step-dad around. Eddie could never complain.

Then after a late afternoon dinner, Wayne would pack up a plate of leftovers to make his shift at the plant that paid time-and-a-half, plus a little something extra from the plant manager, cash in hand. By the time Eddie woke up the next morning, Wayne would pull up with a box of fresh donuts, honk three times, and they would be on their way to the Kmart on Rt 9 and get some steeply discounted goods with Wayne's holiday pay.

It was always a madhouse, but Eddie could swiftly dodge screaming kids, empathize with over-caffeinated employees, and wait in long lines if he and Wayne didn't need to fret about things like work boots and gloves, t-shirts and underwear, and usually one nice little Christmas gift for each of them.

This year, of course, had been a little different. Wayne had been a little disappointed--he would never admit it, but Eddie could tell--that their tradition would be forsaken for Eddie's shift at the mall. But your addition into the Thanksgiving festivities had been a welcome one.

Eddie had extended the invitation weeks ago, when you mentioned you wouldn't be able to make it home to spend the holiday with your family thanks to work.

You, of course, promised to pull your weight--

"It's always really casual," he tried to ease your worries as you began to fret over what kind of dessert Wayne and Rick might like. "You don't even need to dress up. Come in your pajamas. Rick makes a really good pumpkin pie, and I have my mom's old scalloped potato recipe that will literally put you in a food coma."

"What about turkey?" you asked.

"We don't really do turkey." He shrugged. "There's only three of us. So we do different things every year. Rick usually catches some kind of fish if it's warm enough. Wayne has a good recipe for fried chicken. We were thinking of doing meatloaf..."

"I can do the meatloaf!" You perked up immediately.

--only to show up laden with a roasting pan for the meatloaf, a plastic-wrapped gravy boat full of some kind of mushroom gravy, a salad, and a casserole dish overflowing with green beans, cream-of-something soup, and heaps of french fried onions.

Eddie, of course, scolded you as you shuffled through to the kitchen, much like he had the first time you showed up for dinner at his place. But he also placed a soft peck on your lips, which earned him a bashful smile as you shoo'd him away.

That was a new development to your...friendship, if you could even call it that anymore. There really hadn't been time to discuss the logistics between the frenzied makeout session in his van outside of the Hideout this past Tuesday night and Thanksgiving dinner.

Now that he had been trapped at the cash wrap, ringing out ungrateful customers for the past 8 hours, he was almost loathing his past self for wanting to be a little discreet in front of Wayne and Rick. For not...making himself have the "what are we" conversation with you, because your lips had soothed every frazzled nerve he had the other night.

Knowing that at the end of the day that he wasn't going through it alone, that his girlfriend was also in the mall suffering through the mass chaos and that he could go upstairs and steal a kiss whenever he wanted...well it certainly would have done him a world of good to mentally prepare him for this.

For the entirety of his time working at Tape World, he thought he had been doing a pretty good job. Sure there were some hard days, some rude customers. But at the end of the day, an 8-hour shift was an 8-hour shift, and he was only selling tapes. Not...ending world hunger.

"Ah you say that now," Kyle told him on Wednesday as they were putting together cardboard "dump bins" for the discount tapes that would be placed every 10 feet in the store. "But Black Friday is a beast, and Christmas Eve is worse. You're honestly lucky you only work here and not at, like, Radio Shack or something. My buddy Todd has seen some shit.

"Actually, I'm almost regretting scheduling you as a mid but I needed a second key." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. "Peak Hours. Mid's a rough shift for Black Friday weekend."

"I'll be fine," Eddie scoffed. "I've done mid shifts before. I'm almost excited. How bad could it get?"

Famous. Last. Words.

He had barely been able to squeeze into the store when it was time for his shift, the line for the cash wrap blocked the way to the stockroom door. As soon as people saw his name tag, they started shouting at him to open the other register, how they needed help; he could barely get a word out to explain that he wasn't clocked in yet. They didn't care.

He was no longer Eddie Munson, Tape World Keyholder and your boyfriend, probably, maybe...

He was a body who could unlock the electronics case and ring them out.

He was a husk who said "welcome in" and "thanks have a great day" and smiled until his face started hurting.

And for the first time since he had gotten this job back at the beginning of summer...it really fucked with him.

His legs were cramped from standing at the Cash Wrap for so long, he wasn't sure which of the associates had his keys, his hair was damp with sweat even if he threw it into a some haphazard bun hours ago.

He'd been yelled at by more people than he could count, counted so much change the edges of his fingers were pretty much stained from all the muck and grime on everyone's money, and had made so many returns from people with buyer's remorse that he was sure they had given more money back than they had made in sales today.

Eddie hadn't even gotten a chance to take his lunch out in the mall and pay you a visit like he typically would. He had just collapsed in the little metal folding chair in the break area of the tiny stock room. Kyle had clapped him on the shoulder with a quick "good job kid" as he left for the day and Eddie hadn't even moved.

"Alright Ed," Paulie shuffled over as Eddie wrapped up the last in a long line of transactions and was about to wave the next customer over. "Quitting time."

Eddie sighed and backed against the counter as Paulie counted him down. The adrenaline of the day finally started to wear off as he came to realize that it was all over, and a weariness unlike the one he had been feeling his entire shift settled deep into his bones.

He went through the motions as he went back to the stockroom to grab his jacket and punch out. He wove his way through the still-crowded store and out into the mall, sighing in relief as the cooler mall air hit him.

It was gonna be a mercy once he got out to his van. He'd drive home with the windows down.

His ears rang as he headed towards the employee entrance and he wondered if it would be worth waiting in line at the Orange Julius before he left or if he should just stop through the McDonald's drive thru or something on his way home.

"Eddie."

But then, he didn't really need to stop for anything. There were leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner at home. He could smoke a little bit, make some kind of meatloaf sandwich, and then sink into his bed.

"Eddie."

And sleep until...

Fuck.

He was gonna have to do it all again tomorrow. And the day after that.

He thought back to his favorite fantasy heroes and wondered how they did it. How they put themselves through endless journeys, practically sacrificed themselves time and again.

And he could barely make it through a shift at the Starcourt Mall of all places.

"Eddie!"

He crashed right into your hands as you planted them on his shoulders and prevented him from absolutely barreling into you.

"Jesus are you ok?" you exclaimed and pulled him off to the side of the walkway to get out of the way of foot traffic.

Was he? Probably not.

"Yeah," he shook his head and answered. He finally looked at you, finally actually saw you. Dressed in your Teen Vogue best, as you called it, although a little worse for wear, if the eyeshadow smeared where it definitely shouldn't be and your jewelry all askew was any indicator. "Yeah I'm fine.

"You sure? You looked like you were in a trance," you explained. "I've been calling your name for a little while."

"Oh shit," he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, no...it's...It was just a long day."

You didn't hesitate. Your arms immediately wrapped around him and you pulled him in. Pulled him back from whatever precipice he was about to launch himself off of, and straight into the comfort of you.

---

Before long, Eddie found himself in your apartment, fully upside down with his legs propped against the wall as he enjoyed the Blizzard he'd picked up on the way.

"You know just cuz you can hold it upside down, doesn't mean you're supposed to eat it upside down," you laughed as you filled a pot with water and put it on the stove.

"And what are you, the Blizzard expert," Eddie scoffed. "If you'll recall I was the one who took you to Dairy Queen for the first time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes and turned to grab some cans from the cupboard.

You had offered to make dinner--again--while he vented about his shift. Nothing as spectacular as what you made for Thanksgiving dinner, but it left the leftover meatloaf for Wayne to take for his lunches.

"You're lucky I like your spaghetti sauce," Eddie grumbled, a little sad that he couldn't have his meatloaf sandwich.

So he talked as you ran to your bedroom to rid yourself of the remnants of who you became when you were at Starcourt, and as you emerged the person that, he liked to believe, was reserved especially for him.

He told you about the back to back returns he had dealt with when he came back from lunch as you dropped dried pasta into the boiling water and grated garlic into sizzling oil.

He complained about the man who demanded help from a manager only even though all he wanted was a special edition cassette deck that had all the bells and whistles and anyone with keys could help him. His voice got louder and meaner as he quoted the jackass verbatim, but the sharp strike of your wooden spoon against the side of the pot brought him back down to earth.

And as he finished up his story about having to count Sam's register three times because he forgot that there were large bills under the cash tray, you joined him on the couch with a bowl of steaming hot pasta for each of you.

He righted himself and discarded the empty blizzard cup on your coffee table.

"First Black Friday in the books," you announced and you passed the bowl to him. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Eddie groaned. "Seriously? It was a disaster."

"They always are," you explained sagely.

"You survived," he pointed out.

"So did you."

"Barely."

"So?" you asked and twirled noodles on your fork expertly. "Doesn't that count? This is, like...my 5th Black Friday? My 6th? I count each one as a victory. And so should you."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, then clinked plates with his in a salute, and then the two of you fell into contented silence as you ate.

As Eddie worked ravenously through the layers of starchy, cheesy, garlicky goodness, he realized that the weariness that had settled within him after his shift had started to alleviate. How he felt more like himself now that he was sitting next to you, basking in the warm glow of your company.

He briefly considered this ritual the two of you had been engaging in for months. The way you shared stories and foods and got closer to one another. He had always been a little worried that things would change if he ever got his wish, if this friendship with you ever became more.

But it was like nothing had changed at all.

He wanted to ask, was tempted to ask, what this was? If this was a date, like all the dates that weren't dates hadn't been before? If you were his girlfriend now?

But then...he recalled the time that you had a bad day and you immediately found relief in him, how he thought that he didn't need to be your knight as long as he could be your home.

And Eddie realized that whatever the two of you decided it would be, whether you were still just his friend, or if you were his girlfriend, or maybe...maybe something else...

You, too, would always be his home at the end of a long battle.

---

Next Part: Disaster Preparedness

Tag List for Store Manager Verse is still temporarily suspended. Thank you for understanding.

[stuffeddeer]

i came across your blog a few days ago and all i could think of is deerlike/fawnlike darling 😭 someone who’s sensitive and shy, a bit vulnerable !! would go so well with any of the dazais omg

YOURE SO RIGHT imma delve into a few different variations :)

Deludedly obsessed Dazai would view your deer-like traits as something inherently weak. It’s something that makes you sensitive and ill-equipped for the cruel world he grew up in. Since he’s well versed in the cruelties of life, Dazai can make sure you stay safe, right? He takes it up as his job to look after you and keep you safe, remaining close at all times when he can be. If you work in the agency alongside him, he makes sure to pull you onto missions that he’s already leading or will pawn off whatever he’s working on to join yours. He works at the agency, sure, but his job is to look after you. If you find him scary, that's merely because of how many people must have been able to wrong you in the past! It's not like it's hard to, in fact, he could easily— no.

That's why he needs to protect you, to keep you away from people like himself. Oda would want him to help out the poor and defenseless, right? Even if you can't accept that yet, you'll understand in a matter of time. Or you won't, and Dazai will have to take more... drastic measures.

-

Dazai who knows his obsession for you is wrong will start out thinking similar things — how easy you would be to manipulate (he hates that that’s his first thought), how much he should make sure to keep you safeguarded and out of harm’s way — but try to put a stop to it. If you work in an office job or something similar, he’ll be sure to remind himself that you’ve made it this far, and it’s not like you’ll be stumbling into trouble any time soon. To keep his mind from unraveling and his obsession and anxieties from worsening, he’ll follow you home after work under the blanketed night sky, reminding himself the whole time that you’re safe. And if anyone tries to harm you? …

He’d have such an urge to just keep you at his home, safe and away from the cruel outside, but he knows that’s wrong; Dazai knows how sad you’d be and while you’d have no way to fight back, he’d feel so guilty watching you break down in front of him. Looking after you is all he wants to do, including emotionally. But maybe feeling a little sad at the beginning is better than someone hurting you…

As much as he tries to fight it, Dazai knows you’d be better off staying by him all the time.

-

Manipulative and harsh Dazai who gets some sick joy out of your timid demeanor. He’ll want to crush your spirit, prove that your invulnerability is nothing more than a weakness he intends to exploit. You work in some sort of cozy shop mainly by yourself (ie coffeehouse, flower shop, something cutesy) and it almost makes him sick - how can someone be so sweet and innocent? He wants that for himself and you make it far too easy to obtain. A few kind words and polite smiles and he knows he’s become your favorite customer, even if he never buys anything. He brings you a coffee one day out of the goodness of his heart and Dazai swears he sees hearts in your eyes. He builds up a rapport so quickly and smoothly you don’t notice the red flags (how he always seems to know your schedule, favorite coffee..) and dismiss your co-worker’s worries. There’s no way he could be so rude and flippant with them, it’s not in his nature!

And when you get fired after some anonymous customer continuously claimed you were horribly rude to them, Dazai was there to console you. You find yourself at his place much more often, spending time solely with him as your friends begin to ghost you. As thanks to the man who kept you afloat during all of this, you’d stay and help around Dazai’s apartment, cleaning up and bringing him food… and when he mentioned how lonely it gets, well, what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t stay the night? And the next one. And the next…

Once you’ve all but entirely been kidnapped moved in, Dazai reminds himself that the world out there is cruel. So, if you miss being outside so much, then he’ll gladly bring the harsh world to you.

-

Possessive loser Dazai who doesn’t want your vulnerability and (as he views it) “pureness” tainted by someone else, but is happy just watching you stumble from afar. He swoops in during your date with a friend, dragging you out claiming that they were planning on hurting you! He just wants to keep you safe, don’t you understand that? And you do. You so pliantly nod as you thank him, letting out a sigh of relief that Dazai saved you yet again. How do you keep picking these horrible people?

One night, last minute, you went out with a few friends, and Dazai found out the next day. He spent all day avoiding you, angry beyond belief that you could be so stupid! Don’t you know they’re all the same?! He’s just trying to keep you safe! You’re so sensitive, so malleable; the last thing he wants is for some assholes to make you do something you don’t want to (never mind you saying you had fun). You apologize profusely, because of course you do: Dazai is your best friend.

-

Port Mafia Dazai whose only basis for relationships comes from Mori and his ability. He knows it’s wrong, right? But when he sees you, so shy and easy to scare, his mind is made up: You are too good for the Mafia. He takes you back to his small shipping container and decides he’d be the one to take care of you, like Mori does with Elise. His paychecks begin to go towards frilly outfits and soft pajamas for his darling, expensive cakes he wants to see you try and the same kind of crayons he saw Elise forcing the Boss to buy a few days ago. You’re well pampered and still so shy and polite, which is why Dazai is so aggravated when you finally ask to feel the sun on your skin once more. He’s sacrificed so much to keep you happy and spoiled, but you still ask for more?…

…He buys you a big house away from Yokohama’s port with big glass walls for you to enjoy the sun.

-

I imagine a more work-oriented or apathetic Port Mafia Dazai would be the only rendition that doesn’t treat you like a frail doll. Your vulnerable and shy side is cute, sure, but that can be a skill. He’d send you on missions to lure and attack like Kyouka or undercover, as no one expects such a shy person to be apart of the feared organization. He would spend his time training and mentoring you like Akutagawa, but he wouldn’t be nearly as harsh. You don’t have the ability and skills Akutagawa does, but you still should know basic self defense. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll wrap you up in bandages and train you to follow in his footsteps.

[melanthaeunomia]

Injuries, Inventions, And Infatuation

–Leo Valdez

A/N: Short drabble! Thought it was a cute scenario, Not proof read! also English is not my first language so please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes (possibly not book accurate but idk) Content: injured!Leo Valdez x Apollo!Reader Warnings: Fluff, injuries, established relationship Word count: 600+ Thoughts and Requests w/me⚜️

Leo’s siblings practically had to force him to go to the infirmary, He was too focused on his inventions and didn’t even notice how many cuts and bruises he got “god damnit Leo! come- in!” Charles groaned dragging Leo by the collar of his shirt, Lucky for you, you were working the shift that day. Leo was too ashamed to face you, especially since you’ve warned him the last time he went to the infirmary that you’ll prohibit him to work on new projects. You raised your brow at the both of them your gaze focused on the half dry bruises “Ah Here’s your boy” Charles said, pushing the Flush red Leo over to one of the beds making him stumble over to your arms

you quickly caught him, giving him a death glare as he sat down the bed, You then turned back to Charles with a sweet smile “You got it from here? he asked and you replied by giving him a subtle nod and he left the infirmary

“In my defense-” Leo stuttered looking down “what?.” You lifted his chin up so he was facing you eye to eye, he felt his cheeks burn up gulping as he tried to think of what to say “Exactly.” you scoffed turning away from him grabbing medical supplies to bandage his wounds up “why’d you let it get this bad?” you were furious and worried that he haven’t been takin care of himself “Are you mad?” He whispered placing his hands on the back of your waist “don’t- don’t do that.” you murmured slapping his hand away, god this boy knew how to make you fold, You turn back towards him seeing his usual grin plastered in his face “Sit” You demanded tired of his flirting, you weren’t gonna complain though “yes ma’am” was he seriously teasing you to get out of trouble right now? Your eyes rolled back, gently gripping his wrist as you cleaned up his wounds.

“A-ah -ah Careful!” He flinched almost snatching his hand away but you kept a tight grip “Seriously though, You’re so oblivious to your injuries” You scolded but the tone in your voice softened and now gently cleaning up his cuts, He saw your eyes with genuine worry and he felt bad, using his other hand he tucked in a loose strand behind your ear “I’m okay, its just a couple bruises..” He tried to reassure you, kissing your forehead “still! you get too caught up in your inventions, have you even eaten?” You snapped getting tired of him ignoring what his body needs, your brows furrowed when he didn’t answer “i think?” Leo mumbled not entirely sure of when was the last time he ate, you scoffed “my god?, that’s it I’m prohibiting you of making any more new inventions until you Eat, sleep properly!” You purposely tied the bandages tight to make him twitch “That– that’s fair..” He sighed giving in, the corners of his lips curling up as he watched you kiss the bruises and gently rub them.

He’ll never get tired of your scolding though, how you genuinely cared for him, how you acted annoyed every time you saw him in the infirmary, but still patched him up whenever he needed. And even if you were scolding him, his brain wouldn’t process it. Your eyes distracting him with pure worry and focus on him, and how you blushed whenever he would say something suggestive, he loved you when you get mad at him for not taking care of himself, he loved knowing that someone cares about him, he loved you.

Riordan verse Masterlist⚜️ Main Masterlist⚜️

[copaganda-clobberfest]

WELCOME

TO THE FIRST ROUND OF THE COPAGANDA CLOBBERFEST!

“You know that trope? That one trope *Everyone* hates? The trope in which a well meaning antagonist to our heroes, one looking out for the good of a certain community, suddenly does something horrible and drastic to make not only them, but the ideology they stand for the most villainous of all?”

NOW IS THE TIME TO BATTLE THEM OUT! Like Ken dolls, fighting for survival! Like your Polly pockets discarded in the closet, we’ll see which of these bitches jumped that slippery slope harder! Whose character did numbers on y’all, and blew up a bunch of grandmas and babies and hospitals with it!

ROUND ONE

HAMA from AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER vs AMON from THE LEGEND OF KORRA

Hama propaganda:

“A waterbender from the southern water tribe who was captured by the fire nation when they invaded her home. After being put through inhuman conditions to prevent her from waterbending, she learned to bend her captors’ blood instead to escape. She then lived undercover in the fire nation, for decades, before meeting the gaang. Then out of nowhere it’s revealed she’s behind the disappearance of a bunch of fire nation villagers and she tries to forcibly teach katara bloodbending so she can carry on her actions. And for what?? That doesn’t even make any sense!! She could’ve been at least targeting soldiers or officials but nope all of a sudden she’s actually the villain torturing innocents because she can and i guess that’s what happens after she goes through all that ???? ??”

“if iroh can get let off the hook for being a former fascist war criminal, hama can get off the hook for imprisoning people. hama was taken from her homeland, interned, and forced to watch all of her fellow waterbenders die in prison. the gaang's solution to her doing the same thing to members of the nation that wiped her people out? RE-INTERN THIS TRAUMATIZED ELDERLY SURVIVOR SO SHE'LL DIE IN PRISON LIKE THE REST OF HER PEOPLE. hama should be allowed to go home and see her few surviving friends and family again.

bloodbending wasn't just a cool evil new ability, it was a metaphor for generational trauma. that's why hama was so insistent that katara learn it: it was the final legacy of all those people who the fire nation purposefully exterminated, because it was the only thing that saved hama from that same fate. it was the only form of southern bending katara could inherit, because it was all that was left of them.”

Amon propaganda:

“his whole thing was that nonbenders are discriminated against in the avatar-verse, which isn’t all that wrong. except instead of fighting for something like more nonbender representation in government or, y’know, a n y t h i n g reasonable, he decides the way to solve this is clearly to take away people’s bending until… what?

honestly, I never was clear on if he had an actual plan

take away the bending of everyone in republic city? the world? stop at korra? who knows!

anyways. he decides it makes pErFeCt SeNsE that to solve the problem of nonbending discrimination (I honestly don’t think it was as oppressive as he claimed) by taking away peoples bending ability

which is akin to someone stealing your entire identity and for many, livelihood

but the real kicker is

the way he does it

IS BY BENDING

AND NOT EVEN REGULAR BENDING BUT A SUPER SECRET RESTRICTED ILLEGAL FORM OF BENDING

which is EXACTLY the kind of thing he fearmongers about when he says venders have too much power

so his whole platform of “I am one of you (nonbenders), chosen by the spirits to correct this inequality” is complete and utter baloney”

Always feel free to rb with more propaganda :)

[blixssily]

yaaaay ∑d(°∀°d) will look out for those, can't wait!!! if its okay, can i request for jingyuan fic/hc where he remains in luofu while his s/o is a nameless on the astral express travelling the universe, and finally reunite with jingyuan after ○○○ years when the train stops by luofu again? (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

happy writing, remember to take breaks and drink/eat well ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

"it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you."

| you leave your lover behind to travel the world, one day you decide to finally come back to him.

| jing yuan x reader

˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: bad attempt at somewhat angst, reader is gender neutral, probably ooc.

˓ ꒱ authors notes: thank you so much for this request!! i'm so sorry if this isn't what you were picturing for jing yuan as i'm not too well versed in his character but i'll try my best!!

he tried to be supportive about your decision to stay on the astral express despite his many offerings for you to remain in xianzhou luofu. there's not a day that goes by that he doesn't think about you. the bed that couldn't barely fit the both of you (he insisted that it made it easier to hold you) now seemed like too much space for him. the side of the bed that you claimed as yours is now as cold as the midnight breeze. he shivers as he recalls the way you'd snake your arms around his neck, keeping him warm.

you two had almost gotten into an argument actually. when you announced that you weren't going to stay in xianzhou luofu with him. he just didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't want his afternoons to just be filled with paper work, he didn't want his home to be dead silent whenever he'd creak the door open. he didn't want the bed to be cold when he knew it wasn't meant to be.

he didn't want you gone.

he eventually came around and apologised to you though. "i'm sorry for what i've said before. if this would really make you happy, they by all means go for it. just come back to visit me once in a while okay?" he smiles, you can tell that smile is ridden with sadness, ridden with forced acceptance. "i promise." he feels your soft lips against his. it's at this moment that he realises just how weak you've made him. he'd give the whole world to you if you just asked.

he moment he bids you off on your journey he's so tempted to just leave his entire life in xianzhou luofu behind to be with you. wherever it may be, he just wanted to be surrounded by your warmth.

he stands there for a moment, almost as if the ground below him had shackled his ankles to the ground in a sick twisted way of forcing him to see you leave him. he felt so wrong walking away from the entrance of xianzhou luofu (?)

he's dreading having to open up the door to your once shared house, now devoid of all light. all your stuff is gone, albeit a few shirts and little pendants you bought were still lying around. it made it seem like you had passed on, and god he did not want to think of that.

he can't even focus on his job as the general anymore, he thinks he should be able to finish the bare minimum tasks like before he met you but now it feels like he can't even pick up his pen. the pen being one that you had bought him.

he honestly couldn't function well without you, he thinks it's pathetic how he's reduced to what he is now when the only thing that wasn't there was you. you two still kept in touch through your phones but it just wasn't the same. he'd call you every night, sometimes you wouldn't pick up because you were either already asleep or you were busy with something.

he thinks he's never felt more alone in his life.

it's been months, time seemed to pass by slower when you weren't by his side. the snacks he once bought you to try because he knew you'd be home to enjoy them, now never enter through his front door. it was supposed to be a normal day for him, fill out some paperwork, play chess with yanqing during his break, go home a little earlier than yesterday and just rest.

you didn't tell him this during your call last night but the astral express was visiting xianzhou luofu for awhile, the reason was unclear to you but you didn't care. you wanted to surprise your boyfriend! you still remembered his timings for when he goes home and he mentioned that he'll be back home a little earlier since he's been feeling tired lately so it was perfect!

you decide to go back to your shared home to wait for him, not before buying some ingredients to cook him dinner, which he probably hasn't done for himself in a while.

on the other hand, jing yuan gets a little startled when he realises that he lights in his house are on. he thinks hes being robbed but then again who else would be that stupid to rob the general or xianzhou luofu? when he's at the door he can smell the familiar scent of his favourite dish. his mind flashes to you but you didn't tell him you were coming back?

"welcome back! i wasn't sure what to do while i was waiting for you so i made you this." he honestly can't believe the sight that's in front of him right now. he never thought he'd hear your warm welcome so soon even though it's been months.

you walk up towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i missed you." you whisper into his neck. his arms immediately find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i've missed you too my dear." he nuzzles into your hair, taking in the scent that's almost left his, no, your shared home.

"why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" he pulls away slightly to face you, god he's missed you. "i wanted it to be a surprise." you smile, shreds of guilt showing in your eyes for leaving him for so long. "let's eat, i'll tell you all about my adventures." you tug his wrist, the food already being set on the dining table.

moonlight pours through the windows to your bedroom, jing yuan's arms are wrapped tightly around your frame. you're nuzzled into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. your hands are tangled in his silver locks, occasionally giving his head a little massage.

"please don't ever leave me." your hands still at the sound of his voice. you're barely able to hear it, voice betraying his role as a general.

"i won't, i promise." you tighten your arms around him, pulling him impossibly closer to you. you look up at him to place a kiss on his lips. "get some sleep, i'll be here when the sun rises." you whisper as you snuggle back into his chest, relaxing your arms.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

notes and reblogs are heavily appreciated !!

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something I’ve been wondering about is whether or not Rise would have gotten another theme song if the show had gotten more seasons as other TMNT shows have had more than one theme song.

If Rise had gotten another theme song, I wonder if they would have changed up the order of the names.

Leonardo Leads, Donatello Does Machines (That’s a fact, Jack!), Raphael Is Cool but Rude (Gimme a Break), Michelangelo Is a Party Dude

In the 1987 theme song the order the Turtles are introduced in are; Leo then Donnie then Raph & then Mikey. Due to how notable the 1987 cartoon is this order has been referenced in other theme songs in different iterations of TMNT.

Leonardo’s The Leader in Blue, does anything it takes to get his ninja’s through, Donatello is The Fellow, has a way with Machines, Raphael’s got the most attitude on the team. Michelangelo! He’s one of a kind and you know just where to find him when it’s party time

Similarly to the 1987 theme song, the 2012 theme also introduces the Turtles in the order of Leo then Donnie, then Raph & then Mikey the similarity between the two themes might be intentional as the 2012 cartoon tried to include many things from the 1987 cartoon such as having Mona Lisa, Irma, Bebop & Rocksteady as characters.

Similarly both the Rise opening & the 2012 opening reference the ‘heroes in a half shell’ line from the 1987 opening.

The season 5 theme song for the 2012 cartoon also sticks to the order of Leo, Donnie, Raph & Mikey as that is the order their names appear in the opening. However in the Rise theme song & one of the 2003 theme songs the order of the Turtles is switched up

Raph is ready for a fight! Leo’s making a scene! Mikey’s (Got!) got mad skills! Donnie (Rocks!) rocks machines!

(One!) Leonardo’s always in control, (Two!) The wise guy is Michelangelo, (Three!), Donatello he’s the brains of the bunch, (Four!) Count on Raphael to throw the first punch!

In the Rise theme song the order that the Turtle’s are introduced in is switched up so that the order goes; Raph, then Leo, then Mikey & then Donnie while the 2003 theme song switchers up the order to introduce Leo, then Mikey, then Donnie & then Raph.

Something that is interesting to note about the order that the 2003 theme song introduces the Turtles in is that it is the same order that we see in the montage of the Turtles showing off their moves in the 2012 opening. I’m not entirely sure whether or not this was a deliberate reference to the 2003 opening or not but it is a nice detail.

The 2003 & Rise theme songs are not the only places where the order of the Turtle’s names are switched up as the full Rise theme song repeats the brothers names in a different order & the Bayverse movie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows does a cover of the original 1987 theme with a rap verse added on that has the order of the Turtle’s names switched around as well.

In the full Rise theme song when repeating the brothers names the order is Mikey, Donnie, Raph & Leo while in the Bayverse cover of the 1987 theme, after singing the original 1987 theme’s lyrics the Turtle’s names are repeated with a new order of Donnie, Mikey, Raph & Leo.

However even though the Bayverse cover of the theme includes a new verse with a new order to the Turtles this verse is only after the cover of the original 1987 theme & the 2003 cartoon also goes back to the original order the Turtles are introduced in during the later seasons of the cartoon.

(Fast Forward) Leonardo, Donatello, (Fast Forward) Raphael, Michelangelo

(Role Call!) Leonardo! Donatello! Raphael! Michelangelo! (I love being a Turtle)

In both the Fast Forward & Back to the Sewer seasons of the 2003 cartoon the order that the Turtles were introduced in was brought back to the original order from the 1987 cartoon.

The fact that both the 2003 & 2012 cartoons include openings that introduce the Turtles in the same order as the 1987 cartoon makes me wonder if had Rise continued, would Rise have gotten another theme song which introduced the Turtles in the 1987 cartoon order as well.

[cocoacat323]

Naruto Fic Recs

Since so many people liked my svsss rec list I thought I might do one for Naruto, warning all of these are either sasuke-kakashi centric so if you don't like that I recommend you don't read this! Anywho!

heroes come back Summary: Sasuke Uchiha is reborn as Timothy Drake

With Friends Like These Summary:

“I’m from the future—seven years in the future.” There’s a long, drawn-out silence. Itachi’s face is unreadable as he stares at Sasuke. “You’re what?” he finally says.

Sasuke travels back in time to stop the war. He infiltrates the Akatsuki in order to kill them - he doesn't expect to take a page out of Naruto's book and befriend them instead.

CCG Public Enemy No 1 Summary: Kakashi had a single red-and-black eye for more than half his life. Now, he has two.

twist 'verse Summary: Team Seven, in all its iterations, gets fucked over by whatever cosmic powers yet again and time travels/reincarnates/possesses bodies of the Founders. (Note: This is a series not a fic, but I thoroughly enjoyed it so it's making the list anyway.)

Frayed Truths 'verse Summary:

"What are you saying?" Kakashi demands, distress turning his tone harsh. "That you don't know when he'll wake up?" "I'm saying I don't know if he will."

When Itachi uses the Tsukuyomi on his brother that day in the hallway, he miscalculates. In the aftermath, Sakura and Naruto struggle with what it means to be a team and Kakashi sits by the bedside of a boy that might never wake.

A single misstep, and everything changes.

[NOW UNDERGOING EDITING]

(Note: This is also a series and not a fic, I'm sorry about that, but once again it's very good. The series itself has no summary so I went with the summary for the first fic in the series.)

How a Young Heart Really Feels Summary: It was absolutely the most devastating thing to ever happen to him in his six years of life. He knew Uchiha were supposed to love too deeply, but this was ridiculous! He was just a kid, for god's sake! He didn't want to be in love!

Or: Sasuke gets a crush and it messes with best laid plans.

Misrecognition Summary: During the fight on top of the hospital after Itachi's tsukuyomi Sasuke sees Naruto's rasengan and decides that was the final nail to hammer home his weakness, how he would never be able to become stronger than his brother. He was a loser, destined to fail, destined to die. So he might as well die now.

Sasuke tries to use Naruto's rasengan as a means to an end. Friend-killer Kakashi watches this.

Restore My Faith Summary: Sasuke was consumed with hatred because his family was killed. His entire family, not a single person left alive except him and their killer. It was enough to drive someone insane, or into the arms of the first maniac promising him enough power for revenge.

Instead Sasuke finds a little baby Uchiha on a meaningless mission and leaves Konoha for a vastly different reason. (Note: Very literally my favorite fic in the world, of you were to read any fic on this list I beg that it is this one.)

Never Trust Your Rinnegan (Tales of Sasuke's Travels) Summary: "Sasuke isn't in the Elemental Nations.

None of the Elemental Nations have buildings quite like this, people quite like this. Sure, Ame is weird, but this is really pushing it. These people don't have Chakra signatures, they shouldn’t be alive.

The Rinnegan has never teleported him somewhere he hasn’t already gone."

OR: Sasuke is transported to the world of BNHA and has a very hard time trying to get out.

Road to Nowhere Summary: Hitoshi knows there's something wrong with himself before he's even old enough to have a sense of self. He looks at his reflection and knows that the infant looking back at him isn't what he should be seeing.

His dreams are a maelstrom of grief and fear, his mind overwhelmed with a lifetime of emotions his brain isn't developed enough to comprehend. There's an ingrained instinct blaring that everything is wrong wrong wrong.

--

In which Hatake Kakashi is reincarnated as Shinsou Hitoshi, and he wants nothing to do with this world's so-called "heroes."

A step to the left (and right off the cliff) Summary: Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.

[autistic-skeletons]

Good Omens season 2 is about what religious trauma does to indoctrinated people, and here’s why.

so i finally watched Good Omens after my friends BEGGED me to ever since the first season first dropped and even though the ending stabbed me in the balls repeatedly for several hours i can’t help but marvel about how genius the ending really is and how crucial it is to both Aziraphale and Crowley as characters

i was hesitant to watch this show bc i was indoctrinated and conditioned by evangelicalism from birth (i’m literally the kid of two ex-missionaries and my dad was a chaplain for 36 years) and i knew that i could easily get triggered if i wasn’t careful.

i’m so glad i watched this show. there’s many reasons but i really just wanna talk about the ending of s2 aka The Divorce. it went entirely over my friends heads bc none of them grew up in the church but when i watched the ending it felt like i was watching pieces of myself at war with each other even though they didn’t want to be. to me, i was watching two people so broken by heaven and hell that they don’t understand that what they’re doing is hurting themselves more than it’s hurting each other. this is a pretty long ramble so i’ll continue under the cut

Aziraphale and Crowley are two halves of the same coin (literally soulmates) and are narrative foils to each other. obviously right, i mean, everyone noticed that. but what they truly represent in the grand scheme of things is the fallout of religious trauma. Crowley has seen the absolute Worst of heaven and the angels. he’s been outcast, scorned, and tortured for (assuming based on the opening scene of season 2) simply asking questions and questioning his faith. Aziraphale is the poster child of what a good angel is in the eyes of heaven and has reaped the benefits for millennia.

what is happening here is a war between two halves of a whole, Denial vs Bitterness.

as a young child it was drilled into my head over and over that my faith had to be as strong as a rock all the time or i would crumble like sand. i idolized all the bible characters and memorized all the verses and did all the good and right things i was supposed to. i was a standard in all the churches i went to, i was the example of what a good christian was, and i knew it.

then, over time, i began to see behind the curtain on what was really going on in the church and i was devastated. how could something based on love do all of that? why am i so scared to think freely? why do i feel like i can never be good enough? the more i questioned the more shame i felt and the more bitter i became, but i longed to go back to that innocence of being the best little christian kid in the church.

Aziraphale cannot truly comprehend the uncomfortable reality that what he’s been subscribing to all this time isn’t good for him. heaven has been hurting him for a long time and he doesn’t understand that. how can something he thinks is so right, so true, so good hurt him and his friends so much? no, it must be something he’s done right? it must be some bad apples right? the whole orchard can’t be bad right? he just has to fix this. he just has to make it better for him and for Crowley and then everything will be ok again.

Crowley can’t wrap his mind around why Aziraphale cares so fucking much. hasn’t he seen what heaven and hell have done? they barely stopped the end of the fucking world!!! they tried to destroy both of them with holy water and hellfire!!!!! they’re still trying to meddle in their personal lives after everything!!! why is Aziraphale so stubborn???? why does he choose something so asinine over him? Crowley has been there for Aziraphale a hell of a lot more than heaven has, can’t he see that?

both of them are hurting deep down into their very souls and they just can’t see it. that’s what religious trauma does to you. it strips you so bare of your personhood that without your religion, who are you? without your god, you’re just an empty shell. you’re nothing without “us”, without the church.

without Aziraphale trying and failing to fix heaven, he’s never gonna understand how corrupt of a system it all is.

without Crowley learning that Aziraphale is hurting just as much as he is, he’s never gonna learn that Aziraphale really had his best intentions at heart and just wanted to do what he thought was the good thing

without both of them realizing that they’re both wrong, they’re never gonna come together and really stand up for themselves and for their friends and for earth as a whole. without this grief, without this pain, without this separation, they’re never going to be truly free

and i, for one, cannot wait to see them kick some ass when they decide that enough is enough

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @devirnis @exhuastedpigeon @daffi-990 @wikiangela @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @jeeyuns and @disasterbuckdiaz. You are all so amazing and I cannot wait for all your works! Thank you!

I haven't really worked on any of the fics I dropped on tease bit tuesday, so I went into the vault of wips I have and pulled out the first buddie fic I ever started, buddie/911 in the Once Upon a Time verse. It was posted for a bit on ao3 but recently took it down because I wasn't all that happy with was posted and not having a sense of direction to take it in. But I'm looking back over it, and editing, adding. So I'm sharing a bit of it with ya'll today, test the waters really and see if its something I should keep working on. Hope you enjoy!

Once upon a time….

24 years ago, in the land of Misthaven, a cloud of dark magic thundered across the lands towards the Kingdom of Camelot. At the helm of a large round table sat Sir Robert, the kingdom’s noblest knight.  To his left was his beloved and soon to be wife, Queen Athena who cradled her two children to her chest. But no fear be felled her demure. No great evil could ever shake her resolve and it could be said for many of those that sat at the round table. Many who whose entire attention was on the enterically designed wardrobe that stood in the middle of the table. 

“Are we sure this is what needs to be done?” asked Howard the Hatter.

Sir Robert clenched his fist tight at the tables edge, “The dark curse is among us and there is nothing we can do to stop it.  All that is left is to secure the prince’s future.”

To his right, the great wizard Merlin nodded in agreement, “The magic of this wardrobe is powerful enough to send little Evan far away from his mother’s curse.  We must trust that the one with belief will return him home.”

“And what of the rest of us?” King Michael spoke what many were thinking.

Merlin looked to the man who held his very heart, “I’m sorry my love, but I do not have those answers.  I cannot see past the curse itself and the dark one won’t share his secrets.  We can only hope, and that in itself is powerful enough to see us through.”

The King of Camelot nodded and took the wizards hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

The rest of those around the table conceded with King Michael and Sir Robert took a deep breath, “Bring them in Henrietta.”

The warrior that stood at the opposite of the knight, dipped her head before turning and opening the large wooden doors.  “Princess Maddie, come along.”

A small girl no older than 10 with curling brown hair and wide brown eyes, slowly made her way into the room.  In her arms she carried a very small boy, just on the cusp of turning one.  Blonde curls sat atop his head and framed eyes as blue as the ocean.  But his most distinguishing feature was the pink mark along his left brow.  Many believed it was the mark of his prophesized power, that it told the world of the golden heart that rested within him.  The golden heart that would one day break any and all curses.

Maddie clutched her little brother tight to her chest, her lower lip trembling, “She’s coming for him again. The Evil Queen is coming for Evan.”

Sir Robert looked at the young girl he considered his own and tried to hold his tears, “We do not know why your mother has sent this curse, only that she intends to take the entire land with it and your brother is meant to save us all.”

“He’s just a baby!” the princess spits angrily, making the prince stir in her arms before Maddie quickly composed herself and soothed him with soft shushes.

Isabel, the eldest and wisest among the group rose to her feet, “No child should have the world on their shoulders and all we can hope is that you and Evan can be free of burden until the time comes.”

Tears streamed down Maddie’s face, “How do I do that when only I will know?”

Behind the little princess came a glowing blue light that grew brighter and larger before dwindling out to reveal a dark-skinned woman in a flowing blue dress and shimmery wings.  “Tell him our tales, instill the belief. But most important, love him.  Love Prince Evan as you do now.” The blue fairy answered before bending down and giving the two children a gentle hug.

Maddie returned the embrace with one arm then stepped and faced Sir Robert, “Will I ever see you again?”

The brave knight let one tear roll down his cheek as he gave the princess a sad smile, “We can only hope.”

The thunder of the curse rumbled in the silence and lower in the castle, the sound of battle rung out.  Their time was up.

Princess Maddie climbed atop the table and stepped towards the wardrobe.  Above the noise of battle and magic, the Blue Fairy’s soft lilt rang out, “The last child born to a queen of sorrow shall be given a heart of gold.  His heart alone can save those who are cursed.”

“And on the child’s 25th birthday, he shall return to those who have left, led by the one who has belief.” Merlin finished as the young girl sat within the wardrobe.

“Be safe and have hope.” Athena stated firmly then watched with the rest of those at the round table as the wardrobe was closed and the doors to the room burst open.

“It’s over.” The Evil Queen proclaimed stepping inside with the cloud of cursed magic behind her.

“What will happen to us?” Sir Roberts asked.

The Evil Queen cackled, “The worst imaginable.”

Then darkness.

Alright, I know its a lot, but this is basically the prelude to the whole story. If anyone wants an indication of who is who, just let me know I can drop a list of characters and their identities from the fairy tail world. Hope you enjoyed! (Also Captainswan stan! Its true love ya'll!)

Tagging (no pressure!): @bekkachaos @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley @ladydorian05 @prosperdemeter2 @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

[redemn]

would it be funny if i started talking about the werebuck!au verse i have for arthur ?   great because i am .

any kind of shapeshifter can be born to any kind of shapeshifter .   while arthur's father was a full-blooded werewolf ,   and his mother was human ,   arthur ended up being born a werebuck .   since his birth ,   his father constantly ran with bad bunch of other shifters .   you know ,   the type that commit crimes and other crimes against humanity ,   etc .   when he was little ,   his father was often gone ,   and he would stay with his mother ,   who had to learn how to take care of her small ,   slightly feral ,   bitey little child with a very annoying oral fixation on her arms and hair .   when she eventually passed away ,   his father ,   who had at that point not been very present or responsive in his life ,   swooped in and filled his mother's good influence with his own unstable teachings about thee place of shifters in the world .   these teachings were basically :   they are meant to operate outside the realm of human law ,   and they don't need to heed supernatural law either ;   they do what is in their self-interest .   so for the first ten years of his life ,   arthur grew up with a lot of corrupt notions about his place in society ,   which were not helped by the fact that his father and his accomplices would often make fun of and insult him for only being half-blooded ,   and for not being a predator-shifter on top of that .   his father was eventually caught and hanged when arthur was eleven ,   after which arthur ran off on his own .   he was eventually found in his early teens by dutch and hosea ,   where he would be educated in reading and writing and society ,   and they would come to grow and form the gang of outlaw ,   outcast supernaturals .  

being that he's the son of a wolf shifter ,   he does carry a few genetic similarities to werewolves .   namely ,   he tends to become more lethargic during the day time ,   and is prone to staying up into the early hours of morning .   arthur thinks the moon is very pretty to look at ,   and sometimes he will sit out and sketch it ,   but it does nothing for him .   he also possesses tapetum lucidum, and has the ability to elongate his teeth   ( all ,   not just canines )   and grow his nails out sharper at will .   these particular traits take hours to return to normal ,   as he is not as easily able to control these traits .

he is considered a half-buck .   being only half-blooded ,   this means that he cannot fully transform into a solid bestial form ,   the way other shifters can .   instead ,   he can partially take on the characteristics of a buck ,   such as growing out his antlers or growing out his human nails into claws .   he prefers to stay in limbo in terms of his physical form ,   primarily human with longer and sharper teeth and antlers long enough for him to run through anyone who tries to fight against him .   he's also fuzzier than other humans all year round .   all of this is because he wants to be :   he is entirely capable of returning to something resembling almost fully human ,   save for his reflective eyes and a small branch of velvety antlers that poke above his hair .   because of this ,   he tends to stay away from people whenever he can .   and he always wears his father's hat to hide them .  

because he is the enforcer of the gang , arthur is generally inclined to feed in to the common stereotypes that regular people / other supernatural creatures hold .   since many people are freaked out by the supernatural ,   he uses this to his advantage when he is trying to intimidate others who do not often deal with shifters .   this includes growing out his antlers to unnatural and scary lengths ,   velvet included ,   and showing off his fangs when he is arguing with or threatening someone .

[softpine]

can you explain what happened like i'm 5? i may be stupid

noooo you're not, i feel like you're just the only person brave enough to ask fjksjds there's a LOT going on here so i don't mind explaining at all!!

first i'll explain what happened from griffin's point of view on february 3rd, 1982…. he's been saving money up without his parents knowing, because he plans to run away in the next few months. on this day, his mom finds the money and realizes that griffin wants to leave. she becomes inconsolable and tells richard about the money. he thinks griffin stole the money from him (which is ridiculous because we know griffin JUST bailed him out of jail with money richard didn't have; he could've just left him there), and a large argument ensues. his dad hits him, his mom is throwing things around and falling to the floor crying, it's just a huge mess. lucy throws a plate and it shatters on griffin's face. this is the last straw for him. he just can't take it anymore. he grabs the gun they keep in the pantry, knowing his parents always keep it loaded for home security (more on that later). he points it at his dad and warns him to step back, but richard outright laughs at him and keeps approaching him. griffin THINKS he racks the gun, but, being a kid in an insanely stressful situation, he didn't apply enough force to pull it all the way back, meaning there's no round in the chamber, so when he pulls the trigger (and he does actually pull the trigger) the gun does not go off. at that point, richard yanks it out of his hands and threatens to kill him if he ever tries something like that again, but griffin wouldn't have tried again – he was horrified at his own behavior. this is the major turning point in griffin's life and it's one of the biggest factors in causing his death.

(side note, in the universe where we saw griffin as an inmate, that was the incident that first landed him in jail -- in that universe, he pulled the slide just a little more forcefully, and he killed his dad. but he was only 12, and the abuse he suffered was an additional consideration, so he spent most of his time in a psychiatric hospital until he aged out. he committed more crimes later on though.)

(side SIDE note, this is why in the 90s verse griffin was warned to never touch his dad's shotgun again, which he did not listen to, meaning this event still took place for him.)

okay, so now here's what happened from finn's point of view (as in ghost finn, our finn, asa's finn, you know the one): this is one of the worst moments of finn's entire life, and just thinking about it makes him feel furious. anytime he needs to draw strength from his emotions, he revisits this memory to make himself angry. he successfully used this incident to save asa's life many years ago, and it's implied that he did the same thing to get himself out of the nowhere many years before that. so, naturally, when finn got separated from asa, his first idea was to revisit this memory to fuel his anger. only, it didn't work this time. this time, he doesn't feel angry, he feels sad and ashamed because this isn't who he is anymore. he finds himself trapped in an endless loop, forced to watch it happen over and over again. he starts thinking that this is Hell with a capital H, an eternal punishment for what he's done. when he sees asa, he's horrified because he thinks it means asa has died and gone to Hell -- something finn can't even fathom.

okay, now from ASA'S perspective…. we find out that he knew about this incident all along. he heard and saw everything that finn begged him not to. all this time, he's been reassuring finn that he's a good person, deserving of love, that he was just a kid and he's allowed to find happiness, etc. all along, he knew that finn had pulled the trigger intending to kill his father. yet he still believed every word he said. he still believes finn is inherently good. asa would have taken this to the grave if he could; he thought it would only cause finn more pain to know that asa knows.

asa truly believes that this incident is just a memory, so he tries to prove it by attempting to interact with the memory, but he's caught off guard when richard, lucy, and griffin actually see him. they're all so shocked by this supposed home intruder that they fall silent, something finn knows is not normal for this memory, so he gets up to find asa. richard has the gun now because he'd ripped it out of griffin's hands. asa thinks the gun is empty because he knows griffin pulled the trigger and it didn't go off, but finn obviously knows the truth: it would only take a few seconds to fire. he also knows that this is the exact reason his dad bought the gun in the first place, for home defense in the event of a break in (to be fair, this is not that implausible considering the company their family kept at this point) so richard is 100% prepared to use deadly force against asa, who he thinks just broke into his house.

bonus: finn's reaction makes me really sad. we've SEEN the lengths he'll go to to protect asa in the past... but when it comes to his father, he mostly freezes up. he's even physically hiding behind asa :(