#still dealing with real life so have a very unnecessary thing

[jroycethethird]

J. ROYCE VAN DOREN III AESTHETICS: wheels

[scorpihoe1111]

💔Chiron In the Houses💔

Chiron in your chart can tell you which part of your life is a touchy subject for you. Depending on the house it’s in, it can reveal the themes of your life that may have affected you greatly, or an area in your life that you may be insecure about.

Chiron in the 1H🧍🏼‍♀️

Something you may have struggled with through out your life is your appearance/self esteem. Those with this placement may have been bullied for their looks or something about them physically has been commented on/brought attention to plenty of times. The type of person to invest in plastic surgery they may not even need, or lose/gain a few extra pounds when their body is fine as it is. This placement, ironically enough; is found in people who overdo themselves with enhancements/plastic surgery/makeup etc even when it’s unnecessary. Prone to facial/body dysmorphia. What I find interesting however is that this placement usually naturally glows up at some point in their life as they get older, but the scars still remain; so they usually can continue being insecure for a long time and/or can seem to accept or believe any compliments given to them until they heal.

Chiron in the 2H💴

Similar to chiron in the 1H, this placement struggles with self worth/self esteem to a heightened degree, however instead of stemming from appearance it stems more so from financial instability/self worth in general. This placement could have grew up in a financially unstable environment and family where money wasn’t always present, and their needs were barely met; let alone their wants. These are the people who didn’t grow up with the latest video game, the newest car, the nicest house, expensive clothes/shoes. These were the people who had or barely had enough to get by growing up. Growing up they could have been surrounded by people who had more than them, or at least had more basic necessities than they did which in turn caused them to get judged or bullied. This is a placement that people are looked down upon for not having/affording nice things. This placement usually makes one an extremely hard worker growing up so they can have everything they didn’t have when young and not have to deal with it again. Without healing this wound however, these people could be prone to growing up superficial and judgmental just like their bullies in youth. They can start judging others who have less than them, and assessing others worth by what they have materially; because this is how they were treated growing up.

Chiron in the 3H🧠

These people could have struggled in school and may have been held back in grades. A slow learner, to say the least. They may have had a hard time learning and/or dropped out of high school or college. These people also may struggle with speech difficulties, could have grew up with a stutter or wasn’t able to speak/process things properly throughout their childhood and they could have been bullied for this. They could have been made to feel “stupid”, “slow” or “dumb” to their peers or family. They also may have simply grew up naive or very child like, maybe even sheltered and people could have traumatized them once they discovered the real world. This placement could also NOT get along with their siblings. People with this placement I know have been taunted, mistreated, or on the receiving end of jealousy by siblings both in childhood and adulthood.

Chiron in the 4H🏠 TW: ABUSE

These people could have had a very negative upbringing or family life. Home life was unstable, the father or mother could have not been very involved. I’ve noticed people with these placements could have been physically, emotionally or even sexually abused at home. Could have had a step parent that was abusive or one or both of the parents could have passed away. Some people with this placement could have been in foster care and/or traveled house to house to live with relatives/others who will take them in. They could of grew up with a lot of fighting in the house, I also noticed people with this placement could of had a parent that had an affair and this could of changed the whole trajectory of the home. If no abuse, then these people could have also been heavily mistreated or neglected in their family and almost treated like a stranger, and very outcasted within their family as well. These are the people who usually move out as soon as they can as they grow up and cut all contact immediately from family. Family could used the individual for personal gain. The family could have been extremely toxic, misogynistic, racist, overtly religious and/or diagnosed with mental illnesses such as NPD.

Chiron in the 5H🧑🏻‍🍼

These people struggle to be themselves and step outside the box. This placement is one where you’re afraid to accept any praise, as you feel you’re undeserving. These people usually feel like they’re not supposed to be happy or have nice things. They could have grew up with a negative, bitter family who influenced them to be overly humble to the point of self hatred. These were the people where the family could have threw things that they do for them in their face, even those it was basic necessities. “I put a roof over your head and food in your mouth!” this placement could of grew up feeling like they owe their parents something for bare minimum treatment. These people weren’t allowed to express themselves, to be themselves or to make their own decisions growing up. They were almost always practically controlled by their parents into being their personal robot. They feel guilty for enjoying themselves, loving themselves, having a good time or even just being happy. This is the ultimate placement that’s giving “If I can’t, why should you”. Not that it’s their fault, but I’ve never met a person with this placement who wasn’t the ultimate party pooper. Without healing, these people could grow up to become judgmental and bitter towards those who are living their best life. They could also struggle with fertility issues as well.

Chiron in the 6H🖊️

I feel like this placement is ridiculously hard on themselves no matter what they achieve in life. These are the people who I can honestly say are over givers, yet they feel like they’re still not giving enough. They could have struggled with keeping a set routine for themselves or even practicing basic hygiene growing up. But this is because this placement is a placement where nobody taught them anything that they know, they had to learn everything on their own. These people could be called lazy for wanting to take a simple break. Their lives usually revolve around work or doing their job. They can also be the type of people who is always trying to make everyone else happy except for themselves. I usually see people with this placement get taken advantage of because of their overly giving and forgiving nature. The reason these people are the way they are is because they grew up in a household that never gave them anything they have. They always felt like they had to prove themselves to others that they’re worthy of basic human decency. They do their best to help and do nice things for others because they were practically on their own soon as they came out of the womb. :(

Chiron in the 7H👩‍❤️‍👨

Oh boy, this placement is harsh. Those with Chiron in the 7H are people who have been deeply traumatized by love/relationships. These people usually end up with really bad partners who end up cheating, using, degrading and/or abusing them. I find this placement similar to Saturn in the 7H, however Chiron here is way more intense. These people feel like they keep going through the same cycle over and over in regards to love. They could have been traumatized by multiple relationships but the people I’ve met with this placement usually have that 1 relationship that changed their whole outlook on love in general. This is somebody who’s went through so many manipulative mind games in love that they start to lose hope. Once healed however, those with this placement end up becoming very mature and healthy individuals in regards to love and relationships. These people usually find “the one” once they start healing from the trauma of this placement. If unhealed, Relationships/marriage to people with this placement slowly start to lose its appeal once they get older because they put it in their mind that every man/woman is the same. Unfortunately, people who have been disappointed enough times with this placement start to turn so bitter that they become a misandrist/misogynist at some point in time. That’s why it’s important to heal if you have this placement, because it’s a harsh one that really starts to affect the mind internally.

Part 2 is on its way ☺️

[bluebeary-jay]

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

���And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age,  for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together. 

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

[ttlurking]

While I keep working on the design for the Cipher twins AU here's some more things i thought to add!

They both have Ford's 6 fingers hands, since they're mostly made of his genetic material it was a high probsbilty that it'd be passed down.

I'm not sure about Canon but in this au the twins are partially responsible for their parents divorce, not for a fault of their own but because their parents think they're too freaky and contributed greatly to the cracks already existing in their marriage. So they've been sent to who they think is their actual father/creator, not knowing its Stanley.

They have shared dreams/dreamscape (this is actually inspired by real life because when me and my brother slept in the same room as kids we'd sometimes have conjoined dreams? It's a story for another time anyways) plus the fact that Bill is technically on of their fathers means they can always lucid dream and have a pretty good control on their dreams. They have their own separate dream areas, almost like they "split" their rooms, especially as they grew. This is to give eachother privacy in their dreams and also because their tastes in dreams are vastly different.

They can talk telepathically, being linked through the dreamscape has their consciousnesses closely linked. They keep it as radio sort of situation, as neither is keen to look in the other's thoughts. It could be a completely open channel. It used to be when they were younger, which greatly contributed to their freakishness as they used to talk together, as if they were one being.

Dipper and Mabel have personalities that stick pretty close to canon, with Dipper taking more after Ford and Mabel after Stan. Tho as they're Ford's kids I'd say they've both inherited his genius in different ways, Dipper is smart and logical, a bit too calculating and probably on the spectrum. He likes to study things because he wants to know more and likes feeling in control. He has a quick mind, good for puzzles, equations and observation. Very fast learner. Mabel is creative and a tinkerer, while she still loves to make sweaters (and bedazzled eyepatches) her inventiveness is cranked up. She's made some pretty complex sweaters, some that could light up, so it's not even too much of a reach. She likes to make useful machines to help around the house, and while they do work, they're usually weird looking and usually made for unnecessary tasks: like glitter dispensers, disco toilets, rainbow colored shower water etc.. although she's good at making things on request, like Stan's beloved automatic backscratcher.

Stan started wearing the eyepatch as his Man of Mystery persona to make the kids feel more welcomed. He says that it's so they can sell the while "Mystery Family" deal and make more money but he always thinks of his brother and how it was for him as a child to be a "freak"

Dipper's constellation glows when he's sleeping.

The twins don't know they're not completely human. They just think they've inherited the "Family weirdness" that they've heard about.

They still think Stan is their Grunkle. Things start to click after they first meet Bill. They have an easier time in this Au, since they're used to their own dreamscape, they're much more of a threat to Bill, who retreats after he realises just what the twins are.

Their realisation about Bill is complex, along the lines of "We're connected but I don't know how."

They have heavily suspected that the author is related to them since the first season because what are the chances of a 6 fingers handprint on a diary.

When they meet Ford they're like "oh ok- Stan has a twin? So we have two great uncles, makes sense, we must have the 6 fingers mutation in our genetic makeup, a family thing. He's our dad. He's our dad???"

Granda and Candy are still awesome best friends and they never make Mabel feel bad for being different. To them, she's just as weird as they are.

Dipper doesn't have a crush on Wendy. He thinks he does, because he has no experience with this sort of things, but it's actually a mix of admiration and envy, he'd like to be more like her.

And that's it for now cause I'm really sleepy, sorry for the rant~

[hartlesshart]

I have something to say - If you aren’t going to read the whole thing, then skip it. But I really hope you do. My intention is not to cause drama. I just felt this was important to say because I love this community and I want it to be the best it can be.

A few days ago, a very unfortunate thing happened on a certain post about Talanah and Seyka. I called someone out on what was a case of weaponizing a racist incident. Instead of having a meaningful discussion, my comments were deleted and called “inappropriate accusations.”

Long story short - several reblogged and commented on this post about how Talanah was constantly being tagged as Seyka. To be clear, this is not a good thing and I believe every single one of those post to be valid in their frustration. But I have also seen it happen the other way around to my own work (Seyka tagged as Talanah). None of this is okay but while it is exhausting, remember that mistakes do happen.

So I made a comment about my experience and my comment was dismissed because apparently it “hadn’t been seen.” I responded to this with an honest truth of how dismissals of experience affects people like me.

The thing about racism is that it doesn’t happen in a vacuum. You don’t get to pick and choose who it happens to just to fit your narrative. Dismissing it because you didn’t personally see it is harmful, especially to fans from marginalized groups who may not feel comfortable sharing their experiences in the future.

My comment was deleted and later referred to as an “inappropriate accusation” and “harassment.” Was it an accusation? Yes. Was it inappropriate? No. Was it harassment? Absolutely not - I took time to respond so it wouldn’t be seen that way. However, the comments involving Talanah mistags were kept. The comments defending a fictional character. To be clear, I am not saying these comments are not justified. It is incredibly frustrating to work so hard on a piece only for it to be tagged as another character. However, the fact other comments (including my personal experience), that challenged the narrative that these mistaggings were only happening to Talanah, were being deleted is problematic and a form of silencing. Intentional or not - this is a racist microaggression - and yes, I do deal with stuff like this in real life.

It became immediately clear to me that the goal here wasn’t to raise awareness or do anything about the racist misnaming but instead use it to put down a group in this community. And judging a whole group by the actions of a few bad apples is literally where prejudice begins. All of this pettiness stemming from - let’s face it - an unnecessary shipping war in a FICTIONAL STORY. I was incredibly disappointed and saddened because I know we are better than this.

I am not speaking out because I want to cause drama. Undoing systemic racism is something I am deeply passionate about because it affects so many people in my life. If someone calls you out on a problematic take, please take a moment to listen and reflect, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Do not follow the impulse to block or delete. This work is extremely exhausting for everyone, but it is SO important. We all carry prejudices and biases. We are human. But we can also learn because we are all human. I have been called out many times in life by my friends. I have made so many ignorant comments and mistakes. And I will still make them. Hearing I have is not easy at all but it is all part of growing.

Speaking out like this isn’t really my thing but I felt the need to make a comment that can’t be deleted by anyone. I love the Horizon community and I want it to be a safe and inclusive space for everyone no matter where you are from. That is what these games are about. Understanding people from different backgrounds, opinions and traditions in order to work together. 

You don’t have to be fans of the same characters. You can love or be disappointed with the canon. You can respectfully give and listen to critiques of these characters. And you can celebrate representation even if it’s not the direction you wanted Horizon to go in.

Whatever these games have given you is yours to keep.

Just don’t be an asshole about it (at least in public, what you do in private is none of anyone’s business so…) -> that goes to all fans in all groups. It is never okay to harass or hurt anyone - and especially over fictional characters.

(Also please respect the devs - we are lucky they are able to pour their hearts into this game for all of us to enjoy and frankly the direction is their creative choice)

This vibrant community is full of so much talent and love for this amazing series. I have made some truly incredible friends, worked on some hilarious and delightful collaborations and have seen wicked talent come together to make something special. Just look on the horizon, and you’ll see a certain 100% fan-made game coming soon, which has a little something for everyone!

Keep creating. Ignore the bad apples. Don’t be an asshole. I’m going back to drawing silly things. - from the hart 

[trashogram]

How would I improve Stolas & Stolitz?

For Stolas:

• Have him doing princely things and carrying out royal duties? Have him actually be busy with his job? Have other characters treat him with some esteem as a royal and powerful figure?!!

• Have him show sympathy and/or basic decency toward his staff of imps and hellhounds right off the bat OR as he becomes closer to Blitzø, have Stolas visibly treat them nicer

• Do not rely on mental health issues like depression to make Stolas sympathetic — I’m not saying Stolas can’t have depression, but depression is not an excuse for entitled, selfish behavior. Nor is any other mental condition.

• Don’t use the women in his life as tools to develop or regress his character

> Have him actually be respectful of Octavia’s feelings and input, have him contemplate his treatment of others because of her presence in his life — and give him a Come To Jesus Moment where he realizes he’s been misusing her inheritance and how awful that is

> Don’t make Stella out to be pure evil just so you can have her physically and sexually assault Stolas so that it further victimizes him. It’s disgusting and unnecessary

> You don’t need to make Stella evil to make Stolas sympathetic — have her and Stolas just not be in love anymore. Show that Stella has concubines but she and Stolas still get on relatively amiably. They both love their daughter and can co-parent. Stolas isn’t going to come across as the villain for falling in love with someone else this way. It’s cakey but not as offensive.

• Have there be clear consequences to his actions like giving the grimoire to I.M.P. — if Stolas’s deal with Blitzø is found out, who is he going to get in trouble with? I want to know and I want the threat to be clear and visible

For Stolitz:

• Show positive interactions between Blitzø and Stolas ONSCREEN — not just in texts and dialogue implying what hasn’t been shown

• Have them talk about anything other than sex or romantic love (again, onscreen!)

> Potential bonding ideas: have Blitzø see or be aware of Stolas’s soap operas and make fun of them, only to later be emotionally affected by the show much to Stolas’s delight

> Have Stolas try to understand Blitzø’s love for horses. Show Stolas reading about equestrian matches or different horse breeds, or fuck it, have Stolas greet Blitzø during the Full Moon deal with a bunch of cowboy props and pitch role play ideas, just something! Anything!

• A very simple thing that could work to this pairing’s advantage — have Stolas acknowledge that Blitzø doesn’t like to be called ‘Blitzy’ and Stolas apologizes then stops. He never does it again, and therefore shows he can listen and change his behavior for someone he cares about

• Stolas treating M&M with enough courtesy to acknowledge when they fucking speak to him because they’re important in his love interest’s life AT THE VERY LEAST

• Have him ask about Loona or show an interest in how she’s doing. Stolas can offer to have a Father-Daughter day where he and Blitzø take their daughters to the mall or something

• No childhood friends to lovers plot line. It was pointless — the kids didn’t really bond or have a connection, human trafficking took place, the sequence didn’t even end properly, and the only real thing of note was that Stolas is apparently Paimon’s child in this universe

> If you’re gonna age down Stolas to make him and Blitzø more compatible and the ship less icky, fine. But use it better — show them having daddy issues side-by-side without forcing them to interact. Have Stolas visibly rely on and get along better with the imps on staff than his own dad, and the audience can see that he’s a disappointment child just like Blitzø

• No Bee/Vortex and keep Fizz/Asmodeus under wraps so it at least LOOKS like a demon prince and an imp is an unthinkable combination because of class distinction

[joyswonderland1108]

Drama. Drama everywhere.

Hello Loves, hope you are all doing okay and having a good life.

Quite honestly i was not going to talk about this because i was trying to stay drama-free for the longest time as i've been busy with uni but also wanted a bit of a break from all the bullshit while i continue to support, appreciate and wait for our boys peacefully.

My reactions for this situation were :

This shit is funny af because here we go again making a scene out of basically nothing.

As much as the situation is funny it is also unfunny when we're looking at the whole scene from different angles.

So to begin we all know why this shit is funny, same story, different day. People will continuously feel pressed about Jimin or Junkook or Jimin AND Jungkook, people always have this obsession of bringing down their bond because for some reason people can't even accept them as two bandmates, it HAS to be two strangers or nothing to them.

The whole "we do not support content that has shipping material" argument is silly to me because darling, if you see member X with member Z doing something totally normal that anyone can do and can still call it "shipping material" that's a you problem, you must be having serious untreated problems and should seek help from a therapist ASAP.

To think that "Tteokbokki by JK" caused so much fire and for what? We've all been knew that the members have been eating together many times before and it wouldn't be the first time that a member would've cooked something that was appreciated by other members. We were even able to see through the moments the boys decided to share with us that Jungkook did in fact cook for Jimin and if anything to me whether it was Jimin who said it or any other member, picking the Tteokbokki by JK as his favourite dish, that to me at least is a really good praise for JK because this could only mean his Tteokbokki is a banger!!

Now moving on to why it is also unfunny and i'm not even going to get into the details that we talk about every single time about how both Jimin and JK get unnecessary hate but i'm going to talk more about the fans.

We should all keep in mind that stan accounts are run by actual people not bots, so this whole thing about making a big deal out of a very small thing and making up lies to justify this hate is absolutely mental. People are receiving death threats through their dms, they're being lied about, they're being doxxed and basically their lives could be in danger and over what? Childish behaviors that are not assumed.

What irks me is those with big platforms who can't bother to do things correctly, and i'm not saying they should not do any mistakes, we're human we do make mistakes and it's okay but what's not okay is knowing damn well we are wrong and not apologizing for it, being able to fix it and not even try but instead proceeding to block the people they were wrong about.

I don't want anyone to tell me that those people behind those big accounts are not responsible, when you have a certain amount of followers you become responsible of the behavior they show after they followed YOUR advise. Like any influencer on the internet, they are responsible for their audience, as the word itself is "influence" which means that the behavior, decisions, actions, etc.. of the audience can be diverted by this person.

Seeing how these big accounts caused a lot of damage to many people over false information that they did not bother to fact check before but even worse didn't even think about making a follow up post apologizing not only for the misinformation but also to the people who have been impacted by it, this says a lot about what kind of people they are and the type of values they grew up with. Because those accounts are owned by real people too, which means that the posts are also influenced by their personality and values, knowing damn well that because of YOU people are being sent death threats and not even a simple "Sorry"?

It is quite sad actually because we're seeing fewer and fewer big accounts in this fandom being completely honest and unproblematic. Ship whoever you want, stan whoever you want, heck if you want to be a solo go ahead no one is stopping you as long as there is no disrespect out there, as long as there are limits, literally no one gives a fuck what you chose to do or believe in.

A this point i feel like i used up all of my energy in writing this post and if i go any longer it would no longer make sense so i'm stopping here. Please, let's do better for our boys, i know there's like a whole year for us to wait for all of them to be together again but i swear a year is not as long as you think it is, so in the meantime please let's work hard for them, if we can't be present on social media as in actively posting and all that's fine but at least let's be supportive and let them know that we did NOT forget them and we are still here for them, we still love them and we will continue to do so.

With that being said, take care of yourselves and have a very nice day.

[quaranmine]

leave a light on for me

If you think all your friends hate you, it's probably time to go to bed. If you're stuck in your fifth death game, unable to fall asleep, and in pain from injuries that can't heal, then it's safe to say you probably have other issues too. Martyn has moved into Jimmy's shack in Secret Life. They're sleeping in the same room together again, just like all those years ago in the Property Police station on Evo. Unfortunately, a lot has happened between them since.

Word count: 3,167

hiiii so i saw property police were teaming in secret life, blacked out for like two days, and this appeared. CW: there is quite a lot of self-hate, self image issues, and abandonment issues packed into 3k words here. as a result i feel the unnecessary need to once again clarify this is about characters, not real guys,,,

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The thought comes to him late at night, as thoughts of these types often do. 

Jimmy’s laying curled in his bed, arms wrapped protectively around himself. It’s a very careful position. He hasn’t slept yet; he hasn’t been able to. Everything just hurts so, so, so much. 

It’s not fun living on a server without regen. Sure, the hanging out with friends is fun, and the early days are always fun before everybody hates each other, and the secrets are silly and goofy but it—it always turns. It always turns. And it isn’t fun right now.

His ankle is on fire from where he twisted it earlier by falling. He’s not sure which landing did it; he’s too used to jumping off random heights without worrying about it. He should probably prop it up to help with the swelling, but the mere thought of it makes everything hurt even more. Besides, his leg’s also burned from where Scott set him on fire earlier. 

No, curled up is the best way to deal with this. If he stays as still as possible, everything hurts less. Staying still has other benefits too, like making sure the arrow wound on his shoulder blade doesn’t reopen and drip white hot blood and pain. 

His thoughts aren’t actually about the pain, though. Well, most of his thoughts. It’s pretty hard to ignore every time his breathing shifts a cracked rib. His green life is hanging by a thread, and every so often it feels like a blanket settles over the critical thinking center of his brain, making it impossible to focus on anything but the klaxon horn going you’re hurt, you’re hurt, you’re hurt. 

But the rest of his thoughts are about the usual late night things—

Life. Death. The Universe. Whether people actually hate him or not. That embarrassing thing he did yesterday, and the day before that. His entire past stretched out on a table and examined with a magnifying glass. Weighed and balanced, mistakes and karma and loves and losses. The breathing of the person across the room. 

“Martyn?” he calls softly. “Are you asleep?”

There’s a rustle of blankets, and then a groan. “I was until you said that.”

He’s lying. Jimmy knows the way he breathes when he’s asleep. They used to sleep in the same room years ago, too. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I was just—thinking.”

“You had a thought?” 

Jimmy giggles, and it stabs him. “Stop it,” he says when he catches his breath. “I mean it!”

“Should we break out the record books? Mark the day Timmy had an independent thought?”

“I’m going to—I am going to kick you out of my shack,” Jimmy says. “That’s it, your big man privileges are revoked.”

“You’d kick me out into the dark and scary night all alone?”

“I would have no second thoughts! I would have no second thoughts.”

He’s actually having a lot of second thoughts, which is the problem. He’s having second thoughts about Martyn and—since when was that the case? Needing to question his best friend? Well, he knows since when, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. In any case, he’s not going to kick Martyn out into the dark. He’s not going to kick him out at all. If Martyn wants out, all he’ll have to do is walk out. Jimmy just isn’t sure he won’t.

“Well, then you can’t leave me hanging,” Martyn says. “What was your thought?”

“It’s silly,” Jimmy says. “I was just…do you ever still think about Evo, Martyn?”

This is possibly the most loaded a question could ever be between them. Martyn sits up in bed sharply, just a shadowy blur in Jimmy’s periphery. “Why would you bring that up?” he says sharply. The venom is clear: this is not safe territory for Jimmy to traverse. 

The moonlight is cold and diffuse, leaving the room with a gloomy air. The mood in the room has shifted. After a moment he responds, carefully redirecting the conversation around the Watchers. “It just feels like it doesn’t it? Us sleeping in the same room together? The Property Police.”

Martyn is silent. Then, finally: “I guess it does.” 

He sounds calmer now. Jimmy’s mistake was asking a question too open-ended, because for once he’s not thinking about everything that went wrong in Evo. He’s thinking about everything that went right, and that’s what hurts the most right now. Not his broken ribs or wounds, but the way everything used to be okay and isn’t anymore. 

Jimmy’s blunt. “Are you going to stay this time?”

“What—what do you mean?” Martyn sputters. “Of course. We’re shacked up together. That’s sacred, you know.”

Jimmy picks at the thread of the blanket. “‘Cause, well, the last time you said it’d just be me and you, you were lying to my face.”

They were in a hilly forest. Jimmy was green for the longest he’d been the entire game, and it felt like buzzing life in his veins instead of dread. Grian was red and the Southlands felt like it was splintering. And Jimmy was running, Martyn hot on his heels. 

“Dude, you cannot still be hung up on that,” Martyn says. “That was—hold on, let me count, three whole games ago? Come on, you’re the one who invited me to the shack.”

Why don’t we leave together? We’ll figure something out and we’ll move away together. Everybody knows the Southerners are weak. We can set up the Boogey Blockers, remember? You know, the idea for Property Police two-point-oh from session one. You’ve got nowhere to go and neither do I, so we’ll figure it out together. Just give me the heart back. 

“I believed you when you told me that.”

Martyn scoffs. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re the most gullible person on the server. And don’t give me some pity party either, you were literally stealing from me. I’m not going to say sorry for getting my life back.”

Jimmy has a list of justifications for why he stole that heart. He was anxious, for one. He started the game on yellow while other people were given six whole lives. Six! Imagine. Or imagine being one of the few who’d started on yellow and been voluntarily given a life by an ally. Nobody wanted to do that for him, so what if he stole it instead? What about it? Stealing a life without murdering for it is far from the worst crime someone could commit on that server. 

He had felt like the group was splintering, for another. Grian was gone. Both he and Mumbo were yellow—one accident away from red. It wasn’t the same as 3rd Life, where he had a husband to stick next to him even when he turned red. Nobody was going to do that for Jimmy this time, which meant he had to look out for himself. He just…didn’t want to have to, that’s all. 

But those justifications feel stupid now in the future. He died first anyway, and again, and again. He doesn’t raise these points to Martyn now. 

He also doesn’t actually want Martyn to apologize for what he said in Last Life. He certainly isn’t going to apologize for stealing the life. He doesn’t care about what happened in the past—no really, he swears he doesn’t—he just wants to know if Martyn means it this time.

Part of him wonders, though, if Martyn realized just how easily he could manipulate Jimmy back then. If Martyn had known how much Jimmy cared about him and used that to his advantage. If he realizes now just how easily he could do it again, and again, and again. 

I didn’t mean a word of what I said, Martyn had spat as soon as Jimmy transferred the life again. You’re an idiot.

Jimmy’s quite aware he’s an idiot, really. He’s reminded of it every day. The thing is, he doesn’t think. He never thinks. His life would be a whole lot better if he didn’t wait to think until it was late at night and he felt alone and all his mistakes were already made. 

“I just thought you meant it back then,” he says finally. “That’s all. You lied to me again today too.”

“Sorry. That one was a task requirement,” Martyn says. “I needed someone who’d believe any story I made up. But I’m still here, aren’t I? Big men don’t lie to each other. Starting now."

Jimmy remembers another time Martyn tried to leave, back when it was just the two of them. He’d woken up in the Property Police station to the sound of Martyn rummaging through their chests for supplies to take with him. He told Jimmy he was leaving because he was sick of the Watchers. He’d planned on leaving before Jimmy even woke up, so it was only by luck Jimmy caught him in time. He called Martyn a coward and chased him all the way to the end portal. 

Martyn asked if he was coming with him. Jimmy said no. He was only following to stop him or say goodbye.

In hindsight, this was another one of Jimmy’s idiot moments. He was so naive. He didn’t realize how bad the Watchers would become yet, or what the cost of staying was. They should have gone together. He shouldn’t have called Martyn a coward for seeing a future he didn’t. But even if Martyn was ahead of the curve, he’d still been willing to leave him behind. 

In the end, nobody could leave. The Watchers had sealed the portal. 

But it’s the thought that sticks with Jimmy, even when he pretends it doesn’t. 

Martyn trying to leave Jimmy on Evo. Martyn tricking Jimmy on Last Life. Martyn lying to him just this morning. It’s the thought of it that still sticks with him. 

“Can I trust you?” he asks. 

“Yeah, of course,” Martyn says. “I’m loyal.”

“You’re loyal to Ren.”

Jimmy takes a bit of pleasure in the way Martyn sucks in a breath. It’s a low blow, but it works. He doesn’t know what the two of them have going on, but he knows Martyn would betray him twice over for Ren. He’s since learned about Martyn’s Shadow Alliance plans in Last Life—how Martyn was lying when he said the two of them could run away together, but not lying about being willing to betray the Southlands. Lizzie had told him about it months later on Empires. 

Normally, Jimmy wouldn’t have held the betrayal against him. Not this long into the future, at least. It’s a death game; these things happen. But normally Martyn isn’t sleeping in the same room as him. 

“Ren isn’t here right now,” Martyn responds, every word clipped and intentional.  

Martyn feels dangerous to team with. Martyn might leave. Martyn doesn’t have any qualms about betraying people in these games. But Jimmy would follow Martyn into any fight if they were on the same side. He stood next to Martyn and faced things that the two of them still won’t talk about. He knows the sound of his breathing when he sleeps.

He and Martyn fall into rhythm together.

“You wouldn’t be here if he was,” Jimmy mutters. 

“What—What are you on about tonight?” Martyn says. “Huh? What’s gotten into you tonight?” He doesn’t sound as angry as Jimmy expected him to. Instead, he almost sounds…worried. 

“I’m fine,” Jimmy says listlessly. “I told you, I was just thinking.”

“Nuh-uh, you never think! Look at me. What’s up?”

“No.”

“Be like that then. I’ll come to you,” he says, and Jimmy hears the sound of rustling blankets followed by footsteps across the wooden floor. Seconds later the bed dips slightly, and it jostles his foot that he has been keeping very still. This sets off fire in his nerves, and Jimmy gasps. 

“Ow,” he whines. 

“I didn’t even touch you,” Martyn says. His voice is sharp in that acerbic tone he’s so good at, where every sentence is met with either snark or wit.  

“You moved the bed.”

“Oh,” Martyn says and then, “Oh. You’re all battered right now. Broken and bruised, not thinking straight. You know, I got down to five and a half last session. That hurt like a—it hurt a lot. It gets better.”

“Yeah, it hurt less after you died from it,” Jimmy says. “No thanks. I’ll stay on green.”

Martyn’s frowning. “You’re in an awfully bad mood tonight,” he says. “You’re like actually upset right now, aren’t you?”

“I failed my task,” Jimmy says. 

“So?” Martyn asks. “You weren’t the only one who failed today. Can hardly get worse than being the only yellow, if you know what I mean.” He laughs softly. 

“I just needed to tell someone to tell me to get out, but nobody would.” Jimmy sighs. “But they—nobody wanted me there. Nobody. The only reason they didn’t say anything is that they wanted to help me with my task.”

“I don’t know if I see the problem there, Tim,” Martyn says. “Aside from the whole ‘they were too nice to you for you to succeed.’ You said that earlier, that nobody was rude enough to say the line.”

Jimmy’s been turning that around in his head for a while too. What’s wrong? Why does he feel so bad that people were nice to him? Why is he scared that Martyn agreed to be allies? Something about the situation was making him feel awful tonight but he has to work to pin it down. The feeling gets triggered first. He has to track down the logic of it afterward. 

He just feels—he feels like they all hate him. All of them. And he hates himself too, so he gets it. There’s something wrong with him and he’s never seemed to be able to figure it out and fix it. He can’t look into the mirror of his soul and see the problem. He can’t adjust his behavior to get rid of it. No matter what he does, it’s there. 

The problem is just him. He’s deficient. He can’t fix something that’s innate. 

The thing is, it’s not really about how people wanted to help him succeed today, it’s the underlying reasons for it. It’s why they helped him. 

“It was just…obligation,” he says after a minute. “It was just an obligation. They were being polite. Nobody said anything because they wanted to help with the task, not ‘cause they actually were willing to let me stay with them. Not because they wanted me there. They just wanted to get rid of me faster.”

“I mean,” Martyn says, dragging out the word. He’s puzzled. “Weren’t you trying to be intentionally annoying about it, though? To get yourself kicked out so they’d say the thing? I saw whatever you were doing in Scott’s house. You were being so weird about it.”

Jimmy presses the palms of his hands into his eyes. His eyes are watering now, little prickles of tears that threaten to spill over if he blinks too much. He doesn’t want Martyn to see. It’s also the most he’s moved in a while, and the motion makes his vision go fuzzy on the edges anyway. 

“Maybe I want someone to stay,” Jimmy says, voice cracking. “Maybe I want someone to want me to stay. Even when I’m being especially annoying. Even when I’m being me.”

For a moment, the room is so quiet he could hear a pin drop. Then Martyn just says, “What?”

“I don’t—I don’t want people to leave me, or lie to me, or pretend to want me in the room when they’re actually just happy the moment I go home.”

“Tim,” Martyn says. “Do you actually think all that? That people hate it when you’re yourself?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. It’s bad tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s like that?” Martyn says. “I mean, like—do you think that’s an accurate idea of what’s going on, or just your brain tellin’ ya that? I had fun with you today. Wouldn’t have followed you home afterwards if I didn’t.”

He knows he’s having irrational thoughts about this. He knows he’s had irrational thoughts before, so this time they might be irrational too. He can recognize this part of the cycle, at least. But the problem is, are they irrational this time? Are they? Is he confident they are? How can he be confident they are? Is Martyn just telling him what he wants to hear so he’ll stop acting stupid? 

Will Martyn be here in the morning? 

He grimaces. “I think I need to sleep,” he whispers. “This no-regen nonsense hurts and it’s making everything worse.”

Martyn doesn’t know what to say, so he dodges it.  “Do you…d’you want me to call someone for you? Who could help better? Maybe Scott, or Tango, or Grian….or maybe not Grian, but anyone else really…”

Jimmy turns his head to look at Martyn, revealing his face again. Martyn’s eyes are wide and unsettled. He is sitting on the bed, but he’s also sort of hovering, being very careful not to touch Jimmy. They’d been joking earlier, why aren’t they now? Jimmy’s not sure. They operate well when there’s a bit to play into, but there isn’t one now. He thinks maybe their years of playing bits have left them without the words to truly communicate anything else. 

While looking at Martyn, it strikes Jimmy: He doesn’t even realize. He thinks there’s someone else more important to Jimmy who could be in the room right now instead of him. It’s almost laughable. Martyn’s right, there’s many people in Jimmy’s life who are important to him. Who can, and have, helped him. But is it Jimmy’s fault that Martyn doesn’t realize he’s still one of them? 

While looking at Martyn, it strikes Jimmy: He has to give this alliance a try anyway. He can’t write it off before it begins. It might be doomed to fail. Certainly will be, with Martyn being the first yellow and Jimmy’s illustrious record of survival. It might hurt him. It might fix him. 

What’s actually real, though, is that Martyn is here right now. It feels like the old days. They only get scraps of time together these past few years. A MCC team here, a death game there. They’re rarely on the same servers as each other. They don’t see each other like they used to. They don’t live together anymore. They don’t sleep in the same room anymore. It makes Jimmy’s chest ache.

“I’d rather have you here,” he says finally.  

Martyn is surprised. “Oh!” he says. “D’ya want me to do anything?”

“No,” he whispers. “Just stay while I fall asleep. I’ll be okay again in the morning.”

Jimmy closes his eyes and they feel like they burn underneath his lids. There’s tears drying on his cheeks. His ankle still throbs. 

He feels fingers card through his hair gently, the touch hesitant and light. Uncertain.  “Shh,” Martyn says. “Big men don’t cry.”

Jimmy tries to sleep, and knows that isn’t true. 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

The Stable Girl: Chapter Seven

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (Sunshine)

chapter rating: E (birth, brief mention of blood, violence, tense sibling relationship, newborn stuff, a quick handie for daddy joel)

word count: 5k

series masterlist

“Where is she? Damn it, I told you, Tommy. I should’ve stayed home today. Damn it,” Joel spoke hurriedly, panic written all over his face as he found his brother outside of the town’s singular medical building.

Joel had begrudgingly returned to patrol shifts recently after one of the newer rangers broke their leg. He put up a fight, not only with Tommy who was the person to ask, but also with a very pregnant Sunshine, her due date having already come and passed. She assured him she would be fine since Ellie, Maria, and Tommy were going to be there doting on her hand and foot. So, after succumbing to reason, he decided that he’d agree to take on shorter, early morning shifts, aware that he still had an obligation to the town and not just the woman waddling around his home.

But now, he was an hour late to Sunshine’s arrival at the medical building, having been out at the lookout when Tommy walkied to him. He’d never rode so fast in his life, thanking the universe for the lack of infected and hunters on his way home. He’d almost busted right through the gates in a hurry to get there, the usual glare he’d send to Paul taking a backseat as he hopped off the horse and ran down the dirt road until he was standing in front of his brother, panting and panicked.

“She’s inside, she’s fine, Joel. Her water broke a few hours ago, but she’s fine. She’s taking it like a champ, no medicine.” Tommy assured, his hands resting on Joel’s shoulders to still him. Joel nodded, his eyes glancing at the door behind Tommy, desperate to go inside. “Take a minute to calm down, you don’t need to go in there all wound up. Just gonna make her more scared than she already is.”

“She’s scared?” Joel felt his heart pound with the desire to protect her, to rid her of all of her fear and console her, but found himself flipping back in time to Sarah’s birth. Perhaps he was simply too doting with Jen, his intended comforting making her feel suffocated. Could that be the case if he walked in and tried to do the same thing with Sunshine?

“C’mon, I know you ain’t gonna calm down ‘til you see her—“

“Wait,” Joel rubbed his chin nervously, looking at his brother with an indiscernible request, Tommy furrowing his brows at him to let him know he had no idea what was going on with him. “I’m…anxious.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tommy chuckled and pat his brother on the arm. “You’re gonna be fine, Joel. You’ve done this all before.”

“Just…tell me she’s not gonna leave,” Joel demanded softly, his brother’s furrowed stare deepening. “Sometimes I feel like I made her up in my head, you know. She’s just so perfect, I—I just need you to tell me I’m not lookin’ through rose colored glasses again.”

“Joel,” Tommy sighed and shook his head, chuckling at his brothers unnecessary panic—he always did have a knack for worrying when he didn’t need to. “She ain’t Jen. You’re not looking through rose colored glasses. She’s the real deal. And right now she’s in there waitin’ for you to walk through those doors, so I suggest you get it together and go in.”

“You’re right,” Joel took a deep breath, nodding before grabbing the handle and pulling, the old general-store-turned-hospital-room filled with a couple familiar faces. Ellie and Maria stood on either side of Sunshine as she bounced on an inflated ball, her practiced in-and-out breathing filling the room as she faced away from him. Joel’s worry faded when the door closed behind him, announcing his entry and causing Sunshine to look over at him with a wide grin.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” she stood up and waddled over to him, her hands on her lower back to give her some support. Joel rushed to her, helping her back into the bed and trying to wipe the relieved smirk off his face at the sound of her being so glad to see him. “Give me a kiss, cowboy.”

Joel didn’t make her wait even a second longer, leaning down and kissing her softly much to the dismay of the other three people in the room. He didn’t care, and neither did Sunshine.

“How are you feelin’? Tommy said you refused the meds they offered you?” He asked in a soft voice, keeping his face close to hers in case she needed another kiss, his hand petting her hair out of her face.

“It’s only bad when the contractions hit, but they’re still four minutes apart—“

“Three.” Maria corrected, a stopwatch in her hand. Sunshine gave her a nervous look at the quickly progressing state of her labour before turning back to Joel.

“Baby girl might be coming sooner than I thought.” Joel chuckled and nodded at her, kissing her forehead as the town’s only doctor walked in.

“How are we doing on time?” He asked Maria, getting the same info that Joel just got. “Alright, I’ll come back in a little bit to check in.”

“You scared?” Sunshine asked, Joel turning back to her with a quick shake of his head, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Your hand is shaking, Joel.”

“Oh, that’s just the, uh, the c-coffee,”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Am not.”

“Yeah, you are.” Ellie chimed in, now sitting in a desk chair with her face buried in a book. Joel gave her a pointed glare before turning back to Sunshine.

“I’m only nervous because I don’t want you to feel any pain, darlin. So why don’t you let them give you some meds?” She shook her head at him, reaching to pinch his chin lovingly.

“No, I wanna know what it feels like so I’m prepared next time.” Joel felt his heart stop right then and there. She wanted another kid with him? He felt lucky she wanted this one. With a chuckle to hide the tears in his eyes, still needing to seem like a strong man in front of all these other eyes in the room, he nodded at her, grinning so hard his dimple came out.

“Alright, sweet girl. You’re braver than me, I’ll tell you that.”

The doors bursting open interrupted the tender moment, Joel whipping his head around to see Matthew and Joana walking in without invitation.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Tommy asked on Joel’s behalf, surprising not only Matthew but Joel himself.

“She’s my sister.”

“Your sister that you humiliated in front of the entire town,” Joel reminded with arms crossed over his chest, standing protectively in front of Sunshine to prevent him from getting even a glance at her after what he did.

•••

It all went down six months ago when you and Joel decided to tell everybody about the pregnancy.

Maria had already caught on, though she incorrectly suspected it was conceived the night of Joel’s birthday in the diner bathroom, but no amount of denying it would make her believe otherwise. Tommy was shocked but elated, hugging his brother so tight Joel had to ask him to take it easy. Ellie was also incredibly shocked, but offered the two of you a rare hug before stating that she would not be changing any diapers under any circumstance.

The only person you had to tell on your side of the family was Matthew, your recently estranged older brother who’d adamantly disagreed with the 20-year age gap between you and Joel, and who was also now in a full-on relationship with Joel’s biggest fan, Joana.

You found him at the diner, Joana stuck to his side like glue at the bar. Taking a deep breath, you asked Joel to wait for you by the door knowing that Matthew always seemed to find offense at his presence. You didn’t want this to be a fight, you wanted your child to have his uncle around—for Matthew to be the big brother he used to be before this apocalypse turned him so hardened.

“Matt,” you tapped his shoulder, his eyes turning to you and smile faltering a bit before lowering to the swell of your stomach, now proudly on display underneath the cotton of your long-sleeve. His face went white, smile now long gone as he lifted his eyes back to yours. You gave him a weak, hesitant smile and shrugged. “Surprise.”

“Surprise?” From the moment he opened his mouth you knew this wasn’t going to go well. The one person you wanted to be happy for you was about to lay into you in public. “What the fuck? You’ve known him for how long? And now you’re knocked up? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

Joel approached the three of you as Matthew’s shouts grew louder with each word, his arm wrapping around you waist to keep you close to him. Even Joana tried stepping in to calm him down with her hand on his arm, but he just shrugged her off.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” You asked weakly, tears streaming down your face, your hormones causing you to cry when you’d typically just scream back at him in anger. You could feel Joel tensing to keep himself from acting on your behalf.

“Because! I fucking spent my entire fucking life protecting you just for you to come here and end up knocked up a few months later like some whore! That’s all you are anymore, sis!” He chuckled darkly before continuing, Joel’s fist balling up as it rested on your hip. “But hey, at least you finally found something you’re good at. Can’t fight, can’t shoot, can’t even ride a horse anymore, clearly. So maybe this can be your town contribution—the town whore.”

He’d hardly gotten a chance to finish his sentence before Joel was decking him, knocking him to the ground in one hit and kneeling over him ready to strike again. You grabbed Joel’s arm to stop him from hitting him again, Matthew now on the floor holding his cheek and busted, bloody lip. Joel didn’t say a word as he looked around the room, threatening everyone to dare to say something to him as he stood up.

“Joel,” you pleaded through your tears, desperate to just go home and get away from all the nosy eyes. He turned to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, walking you out of the diner and straight home where you cried into his chest for hours.

What was supposed to be your child’s uncle now was just a man—a man you wanted nothing to do with. A man that clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

•••

“Joel,” you touched his arm, forcing him to stop staring down your brother and turn back to you. His scowl softened as he took you in, silently asking you to allow him to kick Matthew out, but your conscience wouldn’t allow that. “It’s fine.”

“Baby—“

“It’s fine,” you repeated, this time earning only a sigh in response, Joel moving out of the way to allow Matthew to see you. “Well?”

“I just…I heard you went into labour and…I just started to think that if anything happened to you, you know…the things I said…I don’t want that to be the last thing you hear from me.” You scoffed at his reasoning, Joel blocking his path as he tried to step closer to you.

“You came to clear your conscience but I haven’t heard an apology,” you felt another contraction start to come on, your face scrunching in pain and your hand coming down to rest on your stomach to attempt to ease the pain. “Hurry up, clear your conscience. I have a baby trying to claw its way out.”

“I…” Your pained eyes turned to him with a confused glare. “I’m not gonna apologize for being disappointed in you, sis. This was fast, and careless, and…lifelong. I’ll apologize for what I said and the way I said it, but I stand by this being a mistake.”

“Joel you have the town’s permission to punch him again,” Tommy piped in, earning a chuckle from you as the contraction began to fade, allowing you to devote more attention to your idiot brother.

“Matthew, you’re an ass,” you finally sighed out, chest heaving as you relished in the lull between contractions. “And you can leave now knowing that I want nothing to do with you anymore. You might be blood but you’re not my family. My family is right here.”

“Damn right.” Joel nodded in agreement, his eyes locked on Matthew. He was as intimidating as you ever saw him, but the sweetness of his confirmation made you smile from ear to ear.

“I think you should go now,” you avoided your brother’s eyes, focusing on your stomach as you rubbed over it. When Matthew didn’t move, Joel and Tommy both stepped forward.

“She said leave,” Joel ordered, no doubt giving him that threatening glare that you’d only ever witnessed when he was protecting you. “Or I can walk you out myself.”

“C’mon, Matt,” Joana tugged on Matthew’s arm until he finally obliged, leaving the room in time for another contraction to start.

“Jesus Christ,” your eyes squeezed closed as you tried to fight through the pain, suddenly wishing you’d taken everyone up on the offer for pain meds.

“That’s two minutes. I’ll go find the doctor.” Maria walked out of the room while Joel turned back to you, stroking your sweaty hair from your forehead and whispering praises.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So proud of you.” He kissed your hand that was holding his as you sobbed out a cry. “I know it hurts baby, but you’re taking it like a champ.”

“Joel,” you spoke through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, baby?” He looked full of concern and fear as you fixed your eyes on him.

“It sounds like you’re talking dirty to me.” He chuckled in surprise, laughing at your ability to remain full of humor even in excruciating pain.

“Want me to stop?” He looked down at you with a tender smile, stroking the side of your face as you shook your head.

“No, just wanted to point that out. Keep going.”

•••

The birth had been a bit complicated, the doctor ordering everyone out of the room that didn’t have medical experience, leaving just him, Maria, and a former Firefly member with nursing experience in the room. Joel sat right outside on the floor, hands clasped over each other and pressed to his mouth as he looked blankly ahead at the tile, contemplating what could be happening on the other side of the door.

“Hey,” Ellie’s voice caused his eyes to break from their mindless stare, turning to look at her as she sat down beside him with a familiar box. “I, uh, was helping put laundry away last week when I stumbled upon this in your closet. Thought…” She took a breath before handing the box over to him, Joel breathing in deeply as he opened it, the broken watch Sarah had given him on his birthday—the night this all started, the night she died—now repaired. “Thought you’d like to have it, you know, so that Sarah can sort of be here to welcome her new sibling. But I saw that it was broken, so I had someone fix it—I hope you’re not mad.”

“Mad?” Joel turned to her with a softness she rarely got to see, his voice just a whisper. “I’m—I’m not mad, kiddo. This…” He took a minute, batting away his tears and taking the watch out, wrapping it around his wrist. “Thank ya, El. This…is very kind.”

“She’s going to be okay, Joel.” Ellie assured, rubbing his shoulder. Before Joel could speak, the door was opening.

“Congratulations,” Maria started with a smile, though she was covered in blood. “You got a healthy baby girl…and baby boy.”

“What?” He felt all the air in his lungs vanish at the sound of the news, his worried frown being replaced with a smile of pure joy. “Twins?”

“Yeah,” she nodded and gestured at the room. “You can come in if you want.”

“Sunshine is okay, right?” He asked, his fingers restless as they fidgeted with his watch.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she took it like a champ.” Joel finally allowed himself to cry, looking up at the heavens to thank whatever entity was up there making his wildest dreams come true. “We just gave her some pain meds, she’s gonna be out soon, so hurry up.”

“Okay,” he nodded and wiped his tears, following her inside.

Joel let out a huff of relief when he saw Sunshine sitting upright in the bed cradling both babies in her arms, his chest pounding with adoration as he walked over to give her a kiss.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. Love you so much.” He gave her another sweet peck before leaning down to greet his two bundles of joy, kissing both of their foreheads over and over until he’d gotten his fill. “Oh, my angels. Daddy loves you both so much, you got no idea.”

“They’ll learn,” Sunshine assured with a smirk, Joel turning his eyes to hers with a chuckle. “Can you believe we’ve got two babies? Thank god, now I never have to go through that again.”

“Yeah, baby,” he laughed and pecked her lips. “I think we did a damn good job.”

“Yeah, we did.” She beamed at him for a moment before looking down to the twins. “You wanna hold one so I can breastfeed?”

“Hand ‘em over,” Joel eagerly accepted his son into his arms, cradling him and gently bouncing him as he watched Sunshine breastfeed for the first time like a pro, having to calm the male part of his brain that immediately lit up at the sight of her exposed breast.

“Oh my god,” she winced and chuckled, her eyes lifting to Joel’s. “This feels so weird.”

“I bet,” Joel laughed and sat down on the edge of the gurney beside her, his eyes turning down to his son to take in his features. “Looks just like you, baby. What are we naming them?”

“Lucas,” she whispered, Joel turning to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Read somewhere it means bringer of light. Seems fitting.” Joel smiled and nodded his head, stroking her hair back again. “You get to name baby girl.”

“Well, I always liked the name Luna.” Joel suggested shyly, Sunshine smiling wide and nodding. “Don’t know what it means, just think it’s a pretty name.”

“Well, I like it. Lucas and Luna,” she hummed, her smile wide. “Our babies are pretty cute, huh?”

Joel would never get tired of hearing that—our babies. These were their kids, the product of their love. Sunshine had chosen to have a family with him. No one else. Him.

“They get it from you.” He reached to pinch her chin. “You’re so beautiful right now.”

“How?” She chuckled and gestured at her form. She was still in the cotton gown from her delivery, her hair tangled and sweaty, not a trace of makeup on her flushed and drained face. “I look the worst I’ve ever looked right now.”

“Quiet with that,” he scolded her genuinely, confused on how she couldn’t see why he’d be so attracted to her when she just delivered two of his babies during an apocalypse, and was cradling one of them against her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was beautiful in all her raw glory and he wouldn’t allow her to disagree—not this time. “I’ve never seen you so beautiful before. You should see yourself through my eyes, darlin.”

“Here, switch me babies,” she ignored his compliments with a bashful grin, Joel smiling proudly at how flushed his words made her. He handed Lucas over with one last kiss to his forehead before accepting Luna into his arms, cooing at his baby girl as she squirmed in his arms.

“My sweet baby girl,” he tickled her stomach with a smile, gasping softly as she stretched and yawned. “Oh, big stretch.”

“I love watching you like this,” Sunshine was staring at him as Lucas nursed from her, a soft smile on her face. “Talk about beauty.”

“You like me as a dad?” It was his turn to look bashful, turning back to Luna in his arms to watch as she yawned again.

“I love you as a dad.”

“Hey, you two.” Ellie and Tommy walked in, Sunshine tugging her gown up to keep her modesty. Both of them were smiling as they approached the couple and their newborns.

“Thank god they look like their mama,” Tommy teased, earning a fake laugh from his older brother. “Y’all name ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Joel looked to Sunshine, gesturing for her to go ahead.

“Luna and Lucas.”

“Which is which?” Ellie asked, studying the baby in Joel’s arms.

“This is Luna,” he leaned down and kissed her nose. “Sunshine’s got Lucas.”

“They’re so…wrinkly.” The adults in the room laughed at Ellie’s scrunched up face, not seemingly impressed by the miracle of life at sixteen.

“They’ll smooth out eventually,” Joel joked. “Wanna hold her?”

“You sure?” Ellie asked with hesitation, Joel nodding adamantly and gesturing at the chair by the wall. Ellie walked over and sat down in it before Joel was placing the baby girl in her arms, reminding her to keep the neck supported. “Like this?”

“Yeah, you’re doin’ good, kiddo.” He beamed down at his found-daughter figure interacting with his newborn, picturing the future in his head—Ellie all grown up, Luna a teenager, the two of them being as thick as thieves while Lucas drove them up the wall with his Miller boy shenanigans. “What d’ya want ‘em to call you? Aunt? Cousin? Sergeant?”

“Sergeant sounds pretty good, but maybe we’ll go with aunt,” she replied in her dry but amused tone, Joel nodding at her with a soft smile.

“Aunt Ellie.”

“Aunt fucking Ellie. Who woulda called it? Not me.” Joel laughed and looked back at Sunshine talking with Tommy, Lucas being rocked in her arms, no doubt soothed to sleep by the sound of her voice the same way his dad was every night. “I’m proud of you, Joel…for putting yourself out there with her. She’s really your soulmate, and I don’t even believe in that stuff.”

“Neither did I,” he chuckled softly and turned back to the teenager. “But…I guess miracles happen even for grumpy old men.”

•••

Joel did little else that night besides sit and watch his babies sleep for the first time in the cribs he’d built for them, Sunshine fast asleep in bed. He didn’t want her waking for a single thing tonight, knowing just how much the labour took out of her, so he stayed awake ready to tend to the newborns as they cried to be fed or changed every three or so hours. He didn’t mind the lack of sleep, not when it meant he got to spend time with his babies.

“You’re strong, ain’t ya?” He smiled down as Lucas squeezed his finger, his lips puckered in his sleep as Joel rocked him in the wooden rocking chair he handcrafted just for moments like these. “You look just like your mama, Lucas.”

The baby smiled in his sleep, probably just passing gas, but Joel allowed himself to believe the newborn understood him.

“You smile like her too.” He leaned forward and kissed him again before walking him back to his crib and setting him down now that his belly was full and diaper was clean. His shuffling seemed to be enough to wake his daughter, picking up a crying Luna to give her the same treatment he just gave her brother. “Shh, baby girl. Mama needs her rest.”

Joel carried the screaming infant downstairs to the kitchen to warm up a bottle, surprised to find Ellie awake playing guitar at the dining room table.

“You’re up late,” he spoke over Luna’s cries, Ellie nodding.

“Just writing,” she closed her notebook and stood up, walking over to the pair. “Can I hold her again?”

“She’s in a bad mood,” he warned but she shrugged in indifference. Joel handed her over and made sure the baby was in a comfortable position before he left them to fix the bottle, thankful for an extra set of hands. “Ya know, when I had Sarah, Tommy was barely your age, but he was the biggest help out of everybody when her mother left. She was lucky to have him, just like they’re both lucky to have you.”

“Why haven’t…when I brought up the watch to her, she didn’t know anything about it. Why haven’t you told her?” Ellie asked softly, as though Joel would scold her for it.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told Sunshine about the watch or the night Sarah passed.

At the beginning of their relationship, he was still so new to being open and vulnerable, and it just felt like too much too soon. Then, she got pregnant and he didn’t want to ruin her joy of becoming a mother with a tragic story of the way he lost his first child. Now, there was no good reason to hide it away from her anymore.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged and carried the now warm bottle over to the pair, handing it to Ellie and watching as she fed his baby girl. “It’s a hard story to tell, I guess.”

Luna scrunched her nose and attempted to rub her eye as she suckled on her bottle, falling asleep midway through her bottle. Joel’s thumb ran over her cheek, her entire head fitting in the palm of his hand.

“But I’m gonna tell it, just gotta find the right time.” Joel took the baby back into his arms and grabbed the bottle from Ellie’s hand and set it down in the sink. “Go to bed, kiddo.”

“I’ll sleep when you do.” Joel chuckled and shook his head at her command, leaving her to walk back upstairs.

“Joel, baby,” Sunshine’s voice caused his eyes to lift from Luna, a smile finding its way to his lips at the sight of her patting the empty side of the mattress. “Come to bed.”

“Alright, baby.” He walked over to Luna’s crib and set her down before crawling into bed, accepting Sunshine as she snuggled into his chest. He breathed her in, thankful to be smelling her shampoo rather than the smell of breast milk and dirty diapers like he had been all night. “Mm, you’re a better cuddler than the twins.”

“Am I a bad mom for wanting to give you a handjob with our newborns in the room?” She asked, shocking him and pulling a genuine chuckle from his lips as he tipped her head back to look in her eyes.

“You just gave birth, darlin. You should be resting.”

“I don’t wanna rest, I wanna make you feel good,” she pressed her lips to his neck and Joel exhaled at the warmth of her tongue against his pulse, her hand traveling down his stomach to dip into the waistband of his flannel pajama pants. “I love making you feel good, because you make me feel so good.”

“Baby,” he breathed out, eyes hooded as he awaited her touch.

“Mm, I love watching you be a dad,” she purred as she gripped his half-hard length, stroking him beneath the blanket. “You’re so good at it, such a natural.”

He let out a shaky breath as her thumb rubbed his frenulum, his hips bucking into her fist.

“I didn’t even ask you to stay up all night taking care of them, you just did it anyways,” she bit his ear lightly, the contact enough to cover his entire body in goosebumps. “You’re such a good man, Joel.”

“Fuck,” he whispered a strangled moan for only her to hear, his head turning to look her in the eye as his orgasm built at an almost embarrassing speed. “Gonna make me cum, baby.”

“Good, you deserve it. Such a good dad, such a good partner…we’re so lucky to have you.” His orgasm was as emotional as it was physical, her kind words sending him over the edge, making a mess in her fist and on his lap.

For the last 33 years, he went through life always thinking that he was never good enough. He wasn’t good enough to keep Jen around, wasn’t good enough to protect Sarah, wasn’t good enough to deserve this relatively peaceful life in Jackson. And now, here in his bed laid a beautiful woman who had just given him two babies, telling him that she was lucky to have him.

Her? The lucky one? Perhaps if he hadn’t been so blissed out and exhausted he would’ve argued that it was him who was lucky. Instead, he found himself just kissing her, slowly but deeply, hoping that the wordless act conveyed even an ounce of the love he held for her in his heart.

“I love you so much, Sunshine, and that feels like an understatement.” He spoke against her lips, feeling her smile against him and peck him a few more times before he was standing up and walking out of the room to clean himself up in the bathroom before returning, Sunshine waiting with a grin.

“Come get some sleep with me,” she pat the bed again as he snuck a glance at his babies, Joel obliging and leaving them to crawl into bed again, tugging the blankets up to their chins as he pulled her in close, peppering the side of her face with kisses. “I love you, Joel. So excited to have this family with you.”

“Mm,” he hummed against her, feeling sleep start to overtake them both. “Me too, darlin. Me too.”

•••

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[around1302]

XVII. YOU HAVE ME

SPARE PARTS: a series (17/20)

BOLOGNE, ITALY

(W) strong language, family restraints, alcohol use, fingering

good lord this has taken me some time to finish. i’m so sorry, life just got in the way. hopefully 4.3k of a smidge of angst and a fuck-ton of fluff makes up for it!

HARRY’S POV

“What’s the move for tonight?”

“You can do what you want, I’m taking Charlie out.”

Niall’s usual grin twists into a smirk, his eyes glinting. I resist the urge to roll my own.

I am taking Charlie out. Not that she necessarily knows that yet.

I don’t mean to sound like a desperate man, but I need Charlie and I to move on like I need air. I can feel her warming to the idea of me, but at the end of the day she still just sees me as her annoying bandmate who’s up to giving her an orgasm or two. 

I need to be more than that to her. I can’t be either nothing or just her temporary fix.

And if there’s one thing that’s apparent about Charlie, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. She doesn’t crave sneaking around and fleeting glances and meaningless moments. I’ve seen her face light up more from seeing a couple holding hands in public than when I’ve been literally going down on the girl.

In fact, in the time I’ve known her, she’s only ever dated one person – Zayn, which is also why this could get messy.

(But fuck him. I was there first).

“I’d love to say I’m surprised about this whole thing, but I’m really not.” Niall snorts.

I narrow my eyes, but before I can ask anymore questions, the guys barge into Niall’s suite.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Horan. You have it fancy in here.” Louis gawks far too loudly for the fancy establishment we’re in, but I have to say, I share the sentiment. We all have nice rooms (it’s the most expensive hotel in Bologne, for God’s sake) but Niall managed to bag da Vinci’s fucking shrine. 

Niall shrugs, sitting up with that mischievous flicker in his eyes.

“Lia still out?”

“Yeah,” Liam explains, “she’s dragging Charlie and Zayn round the shops. Tried to rope us in but we managed to escape.”

My chest tightens. I force it to relax.

Liam throws his legs up on the Ottoman, stretching out. After the show last night, we’re all exhausted. After nearly four months of touring, non stop performing and the consequential non stop partying, we’re all wiped the fuck out. It’s why Niall and I said no to their little day trip around Italy. To put it frankly: I can’t be arsed with the tourism shit when there’s a mini bar five feet away from me up here.

“Good,” Niall reaches behind him, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” I spit.

“This, my friend,” Niall flicks the box open. My suspicions are confirmed, “is about to get me the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Holy shit.” Louis grabs the diamond, making Niall fly up and snatch it back. 

“For real?” Liam stands too, while I’m still sat in shock.

“Why I got this fancy suite,” Niall’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas, “want to do it tonight. Italy’s always been her favourite place and I figure–”

“You’re twenty-one.” “Twenty-two this year.”

I scowl. Niall’s cheeky grin droops.

“Oh come on, man. Who cares how old we are? I know I’m gonna be with this girl till I’m all old and gross and grey, why not seal the deal now?”

“Because it’s insane!” I splutter. I’m not angry. Am I? Why am I angry?

“Hardly,” Louis sharply laughs, “they’ve been basically married since they met.”

“Okay, but being basically married and being actually married are two very different things.”

“Dude, don’t you think I know that? I have thought about this, you know.”

My jaw tightens.

My best friend is about to propose to his girlfriend, and I can’t say I’ve ever even had one. The girl I’ve been in lo– whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can narrow my anger down to one, ugly thing: bitter fucking jealousy. 

So, I do the mature thing; I storm out.

Luckily for me, the second I step out into the hallway – all heaving chest and unnecessary frustration – Charlie, Amelia and Zayn bump into me. They’re all laughing about something, a million shopping bags between them.

“Oh, hey man–” Zayn starts, but I cut him off by grabbing Charlie’s waist and pushing her in the direction of my room. The sliver of skin given to me below her crop top sends a spike through my spine. 

I don’t care that Zayn is probably about to start quizzing Amelia to no end, all I care about is the universe quite literally handing me the only person I want to talk to right now.

“Yo, what the fuck?” She twists, staring at me with what I assume is a mixture of vexation and confusion, but I’m too busy staring ahead to notice. Charlie doesn’t make a move to escape my grip (something I know she’s more than capable of doing), so I keep walking us to my room. 

I messily scan my keycard and grab her shopping, setting it down as carefully as I can in my haste before closing the door with her body. 

There’s something else I want to do before talk.

But, I hesitate for a moment, brushing my lips against hers. I silently ask for permission, pulling her toward me so her lower back lifts from the door and our torsos press together. She hesitates, too. Brushing her nose against mine before kissing me with as much urgency as I got her into the room with. 

I sigh into her mouth, completely wrapping my arms around her back to hold her flush against me. “Missed you,” I mumble against her lips, trailing my hand up to hold the back of her head. I rake my fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail. 

“Missed you too.” She gasps, looping her fingers through my belt hooks.

I nearly let myself smile, but then she palms me over my jeans.

Quickly, I hold her wrist, preventing me from dragging her to bed and insisting we don’t leave my hotel room all night. “Go out with me.” I let the words tumble like a subconscious spill, letting my chest do all the work so my brain doesn’t have to. 

Frowning, she pulls back. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want to rewind and let her do whatever she wants with me. Why the Hell did I–

“Go out with you?” She’s smiling. She’s smiling.

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heating. I’m getting shy, for fuck’s sake. I don’t do shy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said those four words over the years, and I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve said it to. I don’t recall nerves ever being a factor in that habit.

“You realise I’m a sure thing, right?” She cocks her head, and I want to kiss the faint dimple that pops beside her lips. I settle for her bottom lip.

“I want to take you out.” I pull her lip between my teeth, bathing in the way she sighs. “Properly.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Nope,” I pop. I need to banish this shy thing. Fuck the shy thing. I realise our proximity might have something to do with that, so I step away, flicking the light on so I can see her properly. 

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are dark and her hair is mussed and– and shit. I’m so gone on this girl. She folds her arms across her shirt, and that’s when I notice the shirt. It’s my shirt – the one I gave her weeks ago, the band she claims to hate, the shirt I’ve dreamt about fucking her in ever since. 

The shirt which now rests just below her bra. 

“Oh,” she clocks my thought process – probably because I’m staring at her chest – and fumbles with the messy hem. “Shit, sorry. I never even asked if you wanted it back–”

“Never.” I murmur.

A pause. “What?”

I blink back to reality, back to her eyes. “I never wanted it back,” I clear my throat, try and regain some conviction, “the band sucks anyway.” I wink, she chuckles.

God, maybe we should just stay here. We could order room service and continue our theme of fucking in hotel showers and spend all night getting sweatier and sweatier in between the sheets and–

No! No. I need to take her out. 

“Be ready by seven.” 

I bend to pick up her shopping, handing it back. Charlie takes the bags slowly, looking at me like I just told her my name’s actually Bill.

Then, softly, nearly meekly, she whispers, “I thought we had rules?”

My lungs stop working. “We did. We do.”

Right – I’m not even considering her right now. I know what I want, and I know I want it badly. I need to learn I can’t just demand this. Sure, I’ve waited six years, but she sure as shit doesn’t know that.

Patience is a bitch.

She looks at me, scrutinising, studying. I want to read her mind, it seems to all work so complicated up there. A million bolts and cogs working tirelessly; I’d give it all up for just a peek. 

“I suppose I’d be pretty stupid to deny we’re at least friends at this point, right?”

I can breathe again. “Right.” I rush to say.

“So… dinner as friends. Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” No, fuck no. “Bonding time.”

She purses her lips, seemingly amused. Nodding, she swivels from the door, palm wrapped around the handle and about to let me stand in my room and punch the air but…

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out first?”

Her eyes flicker accusingly at my crotch. Specifcally, my hard on, from just kissing the girl.

It’s like I’m fucking fifteen again.

I snort, pushing my tongue against my cheek to stop the habitual impulse to say something inappropriate. I want to scream yes, God, yes but I can’t. Charlie’s like some kind of kryptonite – one handjob will turn into one blowjob will turn into round after round after round.

“I’m good, love.”

Charlie scowls. “You’re really just going to try every nickname in the book, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, sweet pea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she swings the door open, so before it slams behind her I shout a reminding,

“Seven!”

And then I stand in my room, and punch the air. 

“Jesus, Styles, this place is fancy.”

I smirk. “Only the best for a princess.”

“Hey–”

“I’m kidding! Here,” I let go of the small of Charlie’s back to pull her chair out for her, “sit, before you hit me.”

“I can still reach you from over here.”

I playfully roll my eyes as I take my seat. She definitely can. I made sure to get us a table hidden away, close enough for our legs to accidentally tangle and far enough away from anyone else Charlie doesn’t need to worry about people.

She’s always panicked about mobs. The first one was pretty traumatic I guess, and ever since she’s been the overly cautious one in public. Never seen without heavy glasses and an even heavier hoodie, so I made sure she wouldn’t be spending our first date (that is what I’m declaring that is, friends or not) in fear.

It’s not conceited if saying your name for a last minute res at one of the most established restaurants in Bolonge works. Fame has it’s perks, I’m allowed to admit that.

… I think.

Within a few seconds, a waiter comes over with a bottle of red I preorded on the phone. Charlie leans back, looking at me quizzitivley as he pours us both a glass and leaves the rest between us. We thank the waiter, and I gauge her reaction.

A pause. My heart awaiting a beat.

“I’m impressed.” She raises her brows, a glimmer of a smile on her rouge lips.

“Good,” I lift my glass, clinking it against hers before we both take a sip.

I let my eyes properly roll over her for the first time since I met her outside the hotel. It was too dark and too much of a rush to the car for me to drink her in, and God. She looks fucking edible. She’s wearing a strapless dress that lets my wind wander to every inch of skin I can kiss with her still in the thing – but, Jesus, stop. 

Tonight isn’t about that.

Quiet falls on us, because, well. What do we talk about if not for the security of sex or argument, if not for the safety net of anyone else around us? Here, we’re uninterrupted. In fact, no. We’re not anything.

We’re two people on a first date. We’re fresh.

“You know,” Charlie chuckles to herself, setting her glass down and leaning on her palms, “I love trying to figure out the other people at restaurants like this. Like, okay, that couple,” she nods behind me, so I try and turn as discreetly as I can. She hits my leg. “Don’t be so obvious!” She hisses behind a smile.

I’ve just gone and made things worst myself by taking Charlie out, haven't I?

“That couple is on their first date, and he’s trying to figure out how to leave.”

“And how do you know that, Sherlock?”

Charlie shrugs and leans back to take another sip.

“I know people. He’s fidgeting like crazy, looked at the bathroom like five times in the past thirty seconds. For sure planning his escape.”

“Or he just really needs a shit.”

Charlie snorts into her glass, spraying wine onto her cheeks. I guffaw, and both of us fall into laughter too loud for an establishment like this. “Fuck, my makeup.” Charlie taps at her cherry stains aimlessly, so I lean across with my napkin.

“Here, hold still,” I chuckle, pinching her chin between my fingers and trying to get as much grapejuice from her face. In the midst of the scene, our waiter returns.

“Are you… oh.” He clears his throat, and we pause to look up.

“We might need a few more minutes.” I mumble. Charlie grins sheepishly.

Yeah, okay, maybe it is conceited – but thank God we do what we do, because judging by the compressed scowl on the guy’s face as he leaves us, we were one 0 in our bank accounts away from being kicked out.

As I’m wiping at her face, our eyes lock, and the words tumble out before I can think about what I’m saying.

“Niall’s proposing to Amelia.”

She gasps. I sit back.

Silence holds us, until a slowly whispered, “shit,” punctures it.

“Yeah.”

I see her reach for her wine. Then she downs it.

“So I told my mum Gemma was a drug dealer. Of course my mum was like, Harry, she’s nine. But it was the worst thing I could come up with at six years old.”

Charlie throws her head back at the story of myself and my sister, one of my favourite memories to relay. I stab my fork in my pasta and try and muffle my grin as Charlie giggles away.

“I never thought you’d be the type to take WWF wrestling so personally.” 

I shrug. “I was a dedicated fan. I still refuse to believe it’s staged.”

Her laughter dies, and she gets this sort of gone off look in her eyes. Like she’s thinking about something, someone, and then it hits me – I’ve been sat here reeling off stories about my sister without any regard for the fact she no longer has hers. 

“You know,” she shifts, eyes dropped to her plate. She pushes a piece of broccoli around with her silverware, chewing on her lip. Then, her voice gets quiet, small, when she admits, “I don’t think my parents have called me one time this whole tour.”

She chuckles to herself, but it’s void of any humour.

“They did their usual prayer for my safety before I left, and rang to see if I had changed my mind, but…”

I dip my head to meet her eye. She looks up at me, meekly. Like tears are threatening to spill but she’s using every muscle to hold them back. I’m so terrible in situations like this, I never say the right thing because, truthfully, people don’t often open up to me.

(Not like this, at least.)

So, I go with my gut, and pray it doesn’t betray me.

“Pretend I’m your parents.”

Charlie piques. “What?”

Confidence begins to slip from me, evident in the way I mess with my hair and twist my rings beneath the table. “Pretend I’m your parents,” I repeat – despite the out she just gave me.

“This apart of that daddy kink you were talking about?” She smiles smally. 

“No,” I lilt. “Tell me about tour. Look,” I sit up straight, bringing my hair forward and cracking my neck. Getting into character. I lift my hand to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hi sweetie, how’s tour going?”

Charlie snorts. “That supposed to be my mum?”

“I’ve never met the woman, go with it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she sits up and lifts her hand, too.

“Hi mum. It’s fine.”

“Fine? Come on, you’ve been away for months.”

She sighs, giving me that look through those lashes. I lift my brows.

“It’s been amazing, actually.”

I smile. We’re getting somewhere.

“Everyone really likes our album,” she continues, “and I started banging the one with long hair you always tell me I need to stay away from.”

“Heey,” I drop the ‘phone’. She looks pointedly at my hand. I raise it again.

She heaves a breath, her expression stone again.

“I wish you’d try and understand my job a little more. I think you’d see what I’m doing is actually really cool if you took the time.”

My chest aches. I knew Charlie had a strained relationship with her parents, I just never knew why. They’d never come to shows, she would never mention them. I don’t even remember them sitting with her at Poppy’s funeral.

Maybe when Charlie blamed herself for her sister’s death, her parents did too.

“You were wrong, by the way.”

I got so lost in my own anger I forgot we were doing this.

“Wrong?” I ask. 

“About the dude with long hair. He’s actually alright.”

I couldn’t let this night end.

We practically got kicked out of the restaurant when we wound up being the last two in there, and then we stumbled our way to my hotel room and have been laid on the bed giggling over nothing for the last hour.

Red wine is strong shit.

So far, I’ve learnt Charlie hates the colour purple, secretly loves 90s horror and sometimes worries she made a mistake by going to that audition six years ago.

“I just want a dog, y’know?”

“You can have a dog.” I laugh.

“No, no,” she flips, her hair messily cascading her shoulders as she hovers above me. I let the wine guide my hand, tucking a strand or two behind her ear. She leans into my palm. “I want a dog, and a spouse, and a kid.”

I caress her cheek, and then she lays her face completely on my chest. I freeze, watching in awe as she shifts so her legs hang off the bed and her head is on the spaces were my shirt gives way to my skin. Charlie tilts her head, closing her eyes when my fingers find home on her scalp.

I just want this, I want to scream.

“What?”

Fuck. Wait. Did I not think that?

The domestic bliss lasts all of ten seconds before she’s sitting up again.

I’m at a loss for words. I’m sure she’s going to leave, that I just fucked up this whole night, but then she’s climbing a top of me. My hands instinctively fly to her thighs, holding her close through the silk while she assesses me from above, her hair a curtain.

“You want friends with benefits forever? That’s your end goal?” She sounds amused, so I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I want to shout, is that all I am? Even after today, after everything?

I’m better at holding in my thoughts this time, though.

“You really think we can ever be friends?”

Then, she sighs and straightens. Her hair no longer tickling my neck.

“Jesus, you’re confusing. I thought that was why you took me out in the first place!”

This girl will be the death of me.

“Okay, Charlie,” I sit up, gripping her waist to pull her against me. I feel her chest huff out against mine in three quick, fluttering motions. “Let me be crystal clear,” I cradle her face, now, just brushing her bottom lip. She leans into my touch again, and I feel every ounce of self-doubt fade away with the sigh she lets out. I knock my nose against hers.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Charlie rushes to say, “You have me,” whilst fisting at my shirt.

As much as I want that to be true, I know she doesn’t believe those words in the same way I want to believe them. So, I stifle a breathy chuckle, shaking my head.

“I don’t think I do.” My throat stutters at the word baby. I haven’t tried that one out yet.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlie looks genuinely confused, which I suppose is the problem. The problem I created. I pull back, sinking into her brown eyes till I’m sure I’ve turned to stone. All I’ve wanted for the last six years is to hear Charlie say those words: you have me. Yet, in this moment, I realise I’ve gone about all of this completely wrong.

“I want a redo.” I barely whisper, insecure in my words.

“A redo?”

I quickly lick my lips. “Of everything.” I thumb at her jaw. “I fucked it all up, Charlie.”

“Fucked what up?” She deadpans, clearly tired of my inexplicability.

“You. Me. Us. This.” 

Charlie shorts out a huff, as if she’s finally got it.

“We didn’t know this would end up happening–”

“I knew.”

I let my confession barrel before me. If I scare her off, then fuck it. I scare her off. But she needs to know. She needs to know that,

“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen and you shouted at me for being late to our first recording. I knew the minute you stood there in your stupid scarf and your even stupider boots that I was going to have it bad for you and I’ve not known what to do with it since.”

Charlie looks startled, but she’s unmoving from my lap, so I take it as a sign to keep going.

“I thought that you’d always hate me,” my throat swells, “so I’ve been a prick to you and I… especially after Zayn, I just didn’t…” I shake my head, looking down, losing myself.

It’s the wine, that’s all that’s fuelling this sudden, dumb confession. The wine and the fact that right now my best friend is probably engaged. But, then...

Charlie lifts my chin.

Charlie hesitates.

Charlie’s eyes flick back and forth between mine.

Charlie kisses me.

I kiss back with force, pouring everything I couldn’t say into her lips. I hold the back of her head, moaning against her tongue as she pushes me back to the pillow and grips my shirt so hard it pulls nearly painfully against my back.

And then she stops.

“Zayn told me after Amsterdam he loves me.”

Just found the quickest way to kill a boner.

“Oh.” Is all I can say, apparently.

“But I don’t…” she trails off, her eyes dropping to my lips. “I don’t love him.”

“Okay.” I whisper. 

My insides are having a fucking party, right now.

“That doesn’t mean I love you.” She rushes to clarify. I smile.

“I know.”

“But you are the first person I think about when I wake up. And when I go to sleep. And while that’s confusing because most of the time you piss me off, you don’t seem to do that anymore.”

I try not to sound so excited as I respond. “At all?”

“I mean, don’t push it.”

I chuckle, brushing her hair from her face. But then a dreadful pit starts to hole its way through my stomach, and I have to ask,

“You’re not just saying this because you want a dog?”

Charlie smiles against my lips. “I want you, Harry.” One sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m not thinking about the dog right now.” 

I lean up to kiss her, flipping her onto her back. My hand slips under her dress, and her breath hitches. “Good,” I breathe against her mouth, rubbing her over her knickers. Her gasp travels to the back of my throat, and I swallow it, keep it, store it, run it over and over in my mind as I push her pants to the side and curl my middle finger in her.

“Stay the night?” I ask, adding my index finger.

“Oh,” Charlie moans, her head tipping back. I kiss her throat, “yes.”

“Yes, you’ll stay the night?” I nip at her neck, losing myself in vanilla and Merlot.

“Yes, Harry,” she pulls my face up, “just assume from now on I will always– fuck, stay the night.”

I grin. Her nails dig into my nape as I pull my fingers out and rub her clit. 

“God, like that,” she breathes as I push my finger down harder, tuning myself to every gasp and moan she gives me. I kiss her through her orgasm, muffling her cries with my mouth despite wanting the entirety of Italy to hear how pretty she sounds when she comes.

“Always so good for me, baby.” I murmur, gripping her thigh as I shift my weight and move her core to my own thigh, still covered by the overpriced trousers I asked Amelia to find for me. She bucks her hips, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth. I whimper.

“Baby,” she breathes questioningly. “I like that one.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

[peachywritess]

Unmei | OT7

bangtan (OT7) x fem!reader

02 - curse

☁️ unmei – 運命 (うんめい): a noun meaning 'fate’ or ‘destiny’ in Japanese.

☁️ genre: royal!AU, OT7!AU, reincarnation!AU ; smut (eventually), angst.

☁️ Unmei will deal with very delicate and quite dark themes, so please if you are a minor, DO NOT interact. I will always put a trigger warning at the start of every chapter, so if you feel unconfortable DO NOT read. ☁️

☁️ author’s note: hello lovelies, author here! i'm so sorry for the delay, and i know i've already said i had a rough week,, but still forgive me ! <(qwq<) it's quite a short chapter and we're still introducing all the situation, but next chapter will be veery interesting >:3

☁️ chapter’s TW: mentions of death, blood, anxiety (guilt),

☁️ word count: 2,3k

☁️ taglist @shabbamadapot @jnghs @iriaachan;

! disclaimer - This story is a work of fiction. I do not own BTS and the description of them in this story does not want to reflect nor portray them in real life.

"Do you think we will ever be able to fly?"

Taehyung looked away, turning his head to his right, focusing on you. It was a beautiful day, a few clouds coating the sky and the sun warming the skin: spring was just around the corner. You were both lying down on the grass covered in morning dew, heedless of your slightly damp clothes. Your parents had no knowledge of your whereabouts since you should have been at the castle while they were on a business trip.

His dark eyes seemed to reflect the sunlight - if not emit it.

His face relaxed, and one hand was open to mask the sun to be able to look at you entirely; he gazed at you as one does with sunsets. Every time you spoke, a smile came to light on his lips, something that you hardly noticed since you were constantly lost in your thoughts, in your endless speeches that he - in fact - adored. He would listen to you talk for hours.

"We have conquered the seas, the oceans... Do you think we will never conquer the skies?"

You contemplated for a few moments, gazing at the blue vastness above you; your smallness was considerable compared to everything up there, but you still couldn't look away although frightening it was, feeling so insignificant.

"I really envy birds. They can do whatever they want. If they need to escape, they can..."

"You shouldn't." The man at your side breathed softly, still intent on analysing every detail of your face. "If you lock them in a cage, they become powerless and can do nothing. Whereas you, Y/N, you can change your fate."

Your gaze abruptly saddened, and you bit the inside of your cheek as if to mask that sign of weakness. Unlike Taehyung, you were certain that your fate would never change, and that you would forever be shackled by your status.

"Maybe you're right." You lied, knowing that - in his heart - Taehyung felt the same way.

Things happen for a reason. Or, that's what you're supposed to think when life kicks you in the stomach - luckily, you were never an hopeless optimistic, you always decided to face life, and strike harder.

A few weeks had already passed since your father's assassination and, although the King's guards had searched for the culprit, every attempt of finding them had been unsuccessful. To keep people quiet, and to avoid unnecessary riots, they had decided to hang an innocent for his death.

You had been forced to watch the hanging - being the only heir to the throne - and it was you who had given the verdict to the victim.

Yes, you considered that man a victim, since he had done nothing wrong and was tortured to confess a crime he hadn't committed. Nevertheless, you were used to the tapestry of lies woven by the royalty to prevent any type of repercussions.

He had begged you to let him live, but you could not stop reading the sentence imposed to him. It was your duty afterall, wasn't it? You had to fulfil it, no matter the consequences.

Call their bluff. Say something now, spare his life.

"I therefore sentence you to death by hanging for the conspiracy and murder of the King."

You affirmed desperately attempting to sound convinced of the words pouring out of your mouth. You never even managed to look at him in the eye as you falsely accused him, letting his fate come to such an abrupt end.

"Please, I beg you, Princess. Your soul is still pure, do not dirt your hands with blood."

Although his hands were chained, the man threw himself at your feet, bowing until his nose touched the ground.

"Stop this injustice, in the name of His Highness, your Father."

You swallowed the knot that formed in your throat, frowning and shifting your gaze, unable to look at him.

"Please, no! No, don't do this to me, Princess!"

Two guards had grabbed him by the forearms, beginning to drag him towards what would be his end. You had decided to look away.

"This decision of yours will have consequences, Y/N. May you be cursed in this life and the next, for everyone you love will abandon you."

A sense of uneasiness held you rigid, as a heavy weight had placed down on you. You felt crawls all over your body, prickling at your skin.

He's just a man, he said those things out of fear. You tried to reassure yourself as you beginned to walk away, steps getting faster by the second.

The moment you turned away, letting the man be taken by the guards, you met Taehyung's gaze; his jaw was clenched, and you realized he was restraining himself from unsheathing the sword and save that man. However, he could never do so without endangering you. He - as a royal guard - could not have questioned the Queen's decisions, for that he would have cast doubt on your reputation too.

He made sure you didn't notice his eyes locked on you. He didn't want you to carry another burden on your shoulders - not at that moment. He perfectly knew that you felt like you had failed him.

You walked up the steps to the balcony on which were placed the ceremonial seats used by the royal family for centuries to attend celebrations or, in this case, executions. They faced exactly the wide earthen courtyard, on which the scaffold had been placed: you almost collapsed in your chair so much your legs were shaking.

You sat next to your mother, who kept her gaze straight at the patibulum without ever looking at you. She had said that - seeing your face - reminded her of her husband and that your presence made her nauseous.

"I'm surprised you managed not to stutter."

Her tone was harsh, just as it had always been. You had no fond memories of your mother, all you reminisced was the way she belittled everything you did.

The only time you had seen her differently, was when she had learned about your father's death. You always thought that you and her were as different as you were incompatible. You believed you had greater sensitivity… But of the two, you were the one who hadn't shed a single tear.

Your mind was as if barricaded in the illusion that nothing had truly happened. You couldn't know it yet, but that apparent good fortune would reveal itself as a double-edged sword sooner than you thought.

Your mother hadn't apologised to you for what she had said - you couldn't even understand what she was feeling. The man she had married, the man she loved more than her own life, was gone forever without even saying goodbye.

Now, she was doing the same thing to that innocent's man life. Ironic, wasn't it?

"That man is innocent." You replied monotonously with your eyes locked on the marble floor. You didn't dare raise your head, fearing to see that man getting murdered in front of you, fearing to see those eyes again.

You heard the crowd cheering and clapping, and you immediately knew.

"Was." She corrected you like she was speaking to a child, "No one cares, as long as our interest is satisfied. You too should think this way, to be at least an ounce of what your Father has been."

One thing you loved was to hide in the greenhouse, located only a few steps away from the main garden. The structure had existed for several years, and was now completely abandoned. Ivy had now completely covered the large windows, allowing light to enter only through the ceiling.

The warm rays of sunlight shyly caressed the plants. Nevertheless, the most distinctive thing about that place was the presence of a nest of doves. By now, the greenhouse had become their home, and you were nothing a frequent guest.

You were crouched down so that your knees were touching your chest, and you were pouring water into the soil - a small sprout was starting to grow. You were looking at its light yellow shades, that made you wonder if it would ever change colour - it was so delicate, making you feel desperate to protect it.

As you carefully caressed the leaves, you watched your hands. You blinked multiple times rubbing your eyes, feeling like something had gotten in one of them; as your sight recovered, and the blurriness disappeared, you watched your hands again - now, you froze.

Your hands were trembling, palms right in front of you, as you saw blood covering them. You started breathing unsteadily until a hand rested on your shoulder.

You were about to shriek, yet when you turned around your heart seemed to relax and beat normally again.

Taehyung slightly bent his head to the side, watching you with a questioning look on his face, frowning. You, on the other hand, brought a hand to your chest, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Please don't do that again. I didn't hear you coming."

"Actually, I called out to you several times." He now began to shout your name as if to show what he had done to get your attention, so you shoved him slightly.

"Oh, stop it." You giggled, and his smile grew.

The dark-haired man looked around several times, eyes scanning every detail of the place to make sure there was no one there. As soon as he made sure you were completely alone, he quickly placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"How are you feeling, love?"

Being in his company always made you nervous, because it wasn't often that you were alone and - above all - Taehyung was the most unpredictable person you knew.

The longer he kept his gaze on you, the more you felt yourself consumed like wax exposed to the heat of a match.

You knew very well that, at this point, he wanted you to be honest with him: he still didn't know about Jimin and what you had been told about the wedding, let alone mentioned what the man accused of your father's murder had told you a few days earlier.

You lied to Taehyung, and it wasn't because you didn't trust him, but the reason was very simple: you didn't want to make his life more complicated than it already was. Knowing you, you thought, was the greatest of all his problems.

"I am fine, the flowers are blooming."

It was a half-truth - or a half-lie, but you were really enthusiastic for Spring to arrive. When the flowers blossomed, you finally perceived the colours of the world.

The man before you, however, did not seem entirely satisfied with the answer, as his mouth twisted slightly.

"You know that's not what I'm referring to, Y/N."

His voice was calm, but his expression was stern.

"I really don't know what you are trying to tell me, Tae. I am fine, I am recovering."

"Y/N, your father was murdered and a few days ago you witnessed the death of a man, you are not recovering."

He had a point, anyone in the same situation as you would have thrown themselves to the ground, pulled out their hair, and cried endlessly. But despite experiencing pain and an incredible sense of guilt, somehow you were incapable of externalizing it.

Every time you closed your eyes, you saw that man's face, all you did was dream about him at night. He repeated the same sentence, while his eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets.

May you be cursed in this life and the next, for everyone you love will abandon you.

"It's all my fault, I could have saved him, I-"

"What could you have done, Y/N? Turn against your mother and the Kingdom? He was only a man, nothing more."

"He wasn't just a man!" You replied, raising your tone as if to defend the man you too had failed. "He was an innocent man, he had a family, Taehyung!"

"Y/N, I understand."

"No, you don't! I let my father's death and the wedding cloud my judgement…"

You realised it almost as quickly as he did. Your eyes widened in sheer panic and before you could even think about it, one of your hands went to cover your mouth - but it was too late.

"What are you talking about? What wedding?"

You remained silent as Taehyung began to run a hand over his face, stroking his skin until it almost reddened.

"Answer me, which marriage are you talking about, Y/N."

Betrayal can stab you in the back any time; it can take your breath away.

But you were witnessing it in the eyes of the one you loved, and you only had yourself to blame.

"Tae, I am so sorry, I…" You stuttered unable to form a proper sentence.

"Allow me to interfere."

All at once, both you and Taehyung turned towards the voice breaking in seemingly out of nowhere.

"What this sweet princess is trying to explain to you is that she will be marrying me."

Taehyung glared at the newly-introduced figure with hostility, pure, undiluted anger stirred within him.

"And who the fuck are you?" He hissed between gritted teeth.

The stranger took a few steps forward, and it was then that a few streams of light lit up his face. He looked much younger, but his figure was well formed and muscular. As soon as his chocolate-brown eyes rested on you, he smiled, showing bunny-like teeth.

"Jeon Jungkook, delighted to make your acquaintance."

©️ peachywritess 2023. All rights reserved.

[4dkellysworld]

Hii, how's everything going?

I had a question about what if the freedom I feel is only 10% of my time and the peace/indifference internally seems to be also momentary (more than 10% I'd say, still not "satisfying") will this freedom and indifference become my norm if I keep practicing this?

At some times it's easy, and I will actually feel this great feeling of peace and solace but they really are very minimal. Some other times it feels like I'm at a fight with this mind, a fight I know grows through my efforts to end it but it all will seem so hard at that time. It feels often like I'm only hiding and fearful of the ego and the mind.

Also, another thing but lately I've been fearful towards an event that my mind says might occur. I decided then that it may happen then its not happening to me, it's happening to the character I'm playing. Still, I don't even want it to happen to the character I'm playing. This would be unnecessary and I think the idea of "it will happen to the character I'm playing and not my true self" Sometimes makes me think that I'm this way leading to it occurring to my character since some people imagine the ego with the desire the ego has, so the desire actually occurs to this ego/character/materialises before the senses. I could use a little help with how I should deal with this?

AND I'm hoping you're having very peaceful great days!! You're very kind 💌🫶

will this freedom and indifference become my norm if I keep practicing this?

Depends what you're practicing, you haven't mentioned it anywhere.

Some other times it feels like I'm at a fight with this mind, a fight I know grows through my efforts to end it but it all will seem so hard at that time. It feels often like I'm only hiding and fearful of the ego and the mind.

Mind purification is necessary for the restless mind, read this and this. You can do this through releasing or any other sadhana (spiritual practice), whatever works for you.

New age teachers and "non teachers" seem to ignore that they speak to people whose minds are filled with rajas (restlessness) and tamas (inertia), clinging mainly to sensual life and who are, perhaps, at the beginning of spirituality (even if they are engaged in spiritual practices for many years). But Vedanta is for people endowed with dispassion, discrimination and self control.  Rajasic and tamasic minds are always agitated, anxious, desirous, distracted, fearful, extroverted, etc. How is it possible for an impure mind full of rajas and tamas to do contemplation, meditation and Self-enquiry? How is it possible for an impure mind to comprehend the principles of Vedanta and put them into practice? How is it possible for an impure mind, which most of the time is dwelling on sense objects and can only perceive gross forms, to realize the Atman which is the essence of life and the subtlest of all? The fact is that only when the mind is purified to a great extent, it becomes our friend and a great instrument for Self-enquiry and meditation. Then Self-realization is very easy. New age teachers and "non teachers" used to say: "You are already That"; "Who is going to do sadhana or spiritual practices?"; "Just be here now." These sayings may seem wonderful for tamasic-rajasic minds! But it is not easy for someone to still the mind and "be". Talks cannot destroy ignorance, vasanas and samskaras that are accumulated from many past births. Only intense uninterrupted sadhana can make the mind one-pointed and still. They claim also that spiritual practices strengthen the ego and sadhana becomes a prison for the seeker. How can that be so? They really don't know, probably because they never did real sadhana. Great masters like Jesus Christ, immortal Babaji, Satya Sai Baba, Swami Sivananda, Vedanta teachers like Adi Shankaracharya, Sri Ramana Maharshi and scriptures like the Upanishads, the Bhaghavad Gita, etc., tell us to purify our minds and hearts through sadhana. If sadhana and the purification of mind are not necessary, it means that the sayings of the great masters are false. New age teachers say that everything is illusory, just a dream, that everything just happens. Then who is going to do what? Surely everything is an illusory appearance, a long dream. But only for those who have awakened from the dream! For the rest, it is a very solid reality.

This world is an illusory reflection of Consciousness; jiva is illusory, bondage and liberation are also illusory. But this is very easily misunderstood. The bondage is illusory, but this does not mean that sadhana is not necessary. When someone is hungry or thirsty, he has to eat or drink something to relieve his hunger or thirst. In this illusory world, an illusory hunger can be satisfied by illusory food! Similarly, illusory bondage can be destroyed by an illusory sadhana. The illusory practices can destroy all the fancies of the mind at its root (ignorance and ego). This is impossible without practice. Only in very rare cases like Sri Ramana Maharshi can this happen instantly. But that happened because he did intense sadhana in many previous lives. You have to practise constantly with faith, steady determination and perseverance to purify your mind and heart. Simultaneously practise meditation and Self-enquiry to realize your true nature. You have to practise until the mind is empty from desires, attachments, egoism, all samskaras and vasanas, until you are established effortlessly in your true nature. As Ramana Maharshi has said "There is a state beyond our efforts or effortlessness. Until that is realized, effort is necessary. Intense effort is necessary until the I-thought disappears completely in the heart (Self)" Do real sadhana my dear children, do real sadhana. You cannot wake up from the dream of separation only by talking and listening. Do intense sadhana from this very moment to realize your divine nature. Time passes by very fast. Tomorrow will never come. Every day there is a tomorrow. Do not waste your time in trifling illusory sense pleasures. Live every moment of your life for Self-realization. Put Vedanta into practice. Destroy 'I-ness' and 'mine' that separate you from God and the world. Realize your real Self in this very life. Be an embodiment of peace, love and harmony. This is your birthright and the purpose you took for this human body.

Also, another thing but lately I've been fearful towards an event that my mind says might occur. I decided then that it may happen then its not happening to me, it's happening to the character I'm playing. Still, I don't even want it to happen to the character I'm playing.

First, I recommend using this practice to bring up the fear and let the feelings be released while you observe and remember it's only a feeling, you're not going to die from it. The more you try to fight/ignore/resist it, the more it persists. Let it come up, let it be and it will dissolve. Keep doing it until it's all gone. After you've done this, if there still remains any fear, go within and find out why you have this fear about this event occurring. Get to the root causative thought/beliefs and then drop them.

After this, if it resonates, you can do a practice where you allow yourself to feel safe and know that you are safe (you can think of it as giving yourself safety and security if it helps). You can do it however it feels good to you: imagination, thoughts, affirmations, meditation - whatever feels good. The reason I suggest this is because it seems this fear is rooted in a fear for survival and a perceived lack of safety and security. So see yourself having safety and security. Do it for as long as you want until you feel okay. (If there are other root senses of lack other than lack of safety and security from your fear, then give yourself whatever it is you think you lack)

[len-the-neverending]

For cis people, on writing trans stories

So, I just spent roughly an hour looking at the trans tag on Goodreads, and hoo boy, the things I saw. Ten books in I'd compiled a list of red flags, and pretty much everything I saw from there on out (except for the ones written by trans people) had at least one. So here's my list of red flags, or, What Not To Do if You're Cis and Writing About Trans People. (For context, I am nonbinary, have a lot of both binary and nonbinary trans friends, and read all the angry reviews by trans people on Goodreads.)

Centralizing your trans story on a cis character. A solid 75% of the stories I saw were stories, primarily about a trans person being trans, centered around their cisgender sibling or love interest. This is problematic because it portrays trans people, simply by virtue of their identity, as a "burden" or "conflict" on the cis people in their life, and trans people don't need that. It's also just really icky to write about a marginalized identity from the point of view of someone who is not of that identity: it's why stories about allistic people "dealing" with having autistic people in their lives, or stories about white people witnessing racial discrimination, are so frowned upon. I don't believe that cis people can't write good trans stories-- generally, I don't believe in gatekeeping who can write about what-- but a good start would be centralizing the actual trans character.

Misgendering the trans character in any way in the title, blurb, or third-person narration. I'm not going to go into full detail on when to misgender your trans characters-- @scriptlgbt has some good posts on that if you want to check it out-- but it should only be done very sparingly and should never be done where you can use the character's chosen name and proper terms instead. This includes all cases of the title, blurb, and narration by a third-person narrator. I should not see any misgendering in the blurb or in the title, and I really don't need to know your character's deadname from reading the back cover. This also includes gender-bendy titles such as "My Brother Is Named Jessica" and "She's My Dad" (both of which are real ones I saw). They misgender the character no matter how you slice it and are a really gross way to talk about trans people (especially considering all of these characters are binary trans-- some people might be okay with any pronouns or terms, but with a few exceptions you should really refer to your binary trans woman as "she", "her", "mother", "sister", etc. with no gender-bending gimmicks). It also includes language such as "boy who wants to be a girl" or "girl who thinks she's a boy", which is incredibly misgender-y and ignorant of the reality of transgender identities.

Cis people pretending to be trans. I can't believe I saw this one three separate times. Just stop. It's still centering cis characters in trans stories, and it creates an unnecessary link between transgender identities and deception, which is already a major issue in society and one that leads to violence against trans people. I don't care what your idea was. Just cut it out.

There are most definitely more, but these are the three I saw the most on my Goodreads Journey of horrors. I'm a little iffy on cis people writing trans stories, but cis people can and should write about trans people, and I think they can do it well, as long as they avoid the red flags. Stay safe and happy writing! - Lenni

[starcrossed591]

KDrama Year in Review 2023

While I watched more KDramas this year than CDramas, none of them consumed my heart and soul quite like this year's crop of CDramas did (CDrama review post here). And I dropped KDramas more readily than I have in years past, in part because there were so many more things to watch than I had time for (also I had to finish my dissertation and graduate, etc etc). Still, there were definitely some that I really, really enjoyed, so here's this year's KDrama round up:

16. My Lovely Liar: Started strong, got boring real quick. Dropped for homophobic murder plot. Still, glad to see that Hwang Min Hyn can actually act (although full disclosure, I did still enjoy him in Alchemy of Souls, wooden as that performance may be). Hoping Kim So Hyun can catch a break and get a role in a drama more worthy of her in the near future.

15. Crash Course in Romance: Excellent performances and chemistry by the ML and FL. Romance between two middle aged people instead of youths is also a treat. Dropped around ep 12 because of the unnecessary, homophobic murder plot. Pass.

14. A Good Day to Be a Dog: Surprisingly stronger than the goofy premise suggests, largely on the basis of Park Gyu-Young's performance as the FL who turns into a dog upon being kissed. Pacing problems in the third act around the origins of the whole dog curse thing. Can't say I recommend unless you're really in the mood for some shenanigans, but largely inoffensive if a little silly. (Also it turns out Cha Eun Woo *really* leveled up his kiss game for this one!)

13. Love to Hate You: Perfectly serviceable rom com. Nothing too special, but a nice weekend binge if you're in the mood for that. Also a good way to see Kim Ji-Hoon's v handsome face and that *hair* without having to deal with everything involved with his rather murderous run in Flower of Evil.

12. Joseon Attorney: A Morality: Perfectly serviceable law procedural/Joseon historical. If you don't like either of those genres your mileage may vary, but I had missed having Bona on my screen, so it worked well enough for me.

11. Welcome to Samdal-ri: I seem to like this one more than literally everyone else I know, and I fully admit that my enjoyment of this drama is more vibes-based than plot-based. I guess I have a soft spot for Shin Hye Sun yelling at people at Ji Chang Wook going a bit unhinged over a woman who ran away from him (see also: Lovestruck in the City).

10. My Demon: Very much enjoying Song Kang as a cranky demon falling in love with a human. Very tropey in the best way, and feels like a return to form for the supernatural romance genre. Remains to be seen if they'll land the ending as of this writing, but enjoying as it goes.

9. Doctor Cha: A contribution to the slate of divorce comedies I watched this year (see also: Strangers Again (KDrama) and Let's Get Divorced (JDrama)), a surprisingly touching story about growing older when you've devoted your life to someone who has not done the same for you.

8. Alchemy of Souls: Light and Shadow (Part 2): While Ko Joon-Yung never quite managed to replace Jung So-Min as the FL for me, I definitely still enjoyed the closer to this fun fantasy series. Special shout out to Shin Seung-Ho as Prince Go Won and his pet turtle

7. Strangers Again: I didn't see a ton about this one on tumblr as it was airing, but I found this rom com? melodrama? divorce procedural? makjang? story about relationships and why they end unexpectedly profound. I tuned in expecting mindless makjang hot mess, and instead got a thoughtful meditation on divorce. Left me feeling unexpectedly melancholy at the end, but glad I watched it.

6. The Secret Romantic Guesthouse: Very fun sageuk! Probably won't knock your socks off, but it does what it does very well. Bonus points for a B couple as compelling as the A couple. I've also been a big Kang Hoon fan since Little Women, and there are a couple of other actors in here that I'm always glad to see working.

5. Perfect Marriage Revenge: Tour de force makjang. Came out of nowhere and blew me away. Hits all the right beats, and unexpectedly fun (and was a nice break from the heaviness of My Dearest for me). This was a good year for jaded and slightly unhinged transmigrated FL's back for their #revenge (see also: Story of Kunning Palace in CDrama land), and I was here for it. Also features one of the spiciest make-out scenes of the year, 10/10 recommend

4. See You in My 19th Life: Absolutely loved this haunting, melancholy, and sometimes unexpectedly goofy reincarnation drama. I loved the webtoon and had high expectations, and this drama largely met them! The continuing relationship between sisters Ji-Eum (Shin Hye Sun) and Cho-Won (Ha Yoon Kyung) was a special highlight for me, and while Shin Hye Sun is already a never-miss for me, I'm especially looking forward to whatever Ha Yoon Kyung does next. I prefer the ending of the Webtoon to the KDrama, but I'm still delighted this drama exists and am glad I watched it.

3. The Interest of Love: Look, I loved this drama. Even though it seemed on the surface like nothing but *mess* in the interpersonal lives of these characters working at a bank on the border between a rich and poor neighborhood in Seoul, it nonetheless had some of the most searing class commentary of the year for me. I also love an FL who will (spoiler) pack up her things and disappear at the drop of a hat, even if no one else will understand her decision to do so, because she just cannot deal anymore (see also: the FL in Lovestruck in the City, whom I also love but everyone else hated). This drama kept me gleefully coming back every week in a year where not a lot of others did.

2. Call It Love: A revenge slice of life melodrama that I found unexpectedly touching in its deep melancholy. Loved not only the main couple, but the relationship between the siblings and their pharmacist bestie. A lovely character study. (Also I somehow ended up watching this at the same time as Till the End of the Moon and Li Susu as Ye Xiwu's hidden identity/revenge plot, which was unexpectedly stressful! Had a very "it's the same picture" moment despite two dramas in two genres that could not be further apart.) If you missed this one (and since it aired on Disney+, you might have--Disney+'s effects on the KDrama streaming ecosystem will be the death of me), it's worth seeking out!

1. My Dearest (Parts 1 and 2): Kind of feels like everyone has said everything there is to say about sageuk of truly epic proportions, but it blew me away as well. Epic romance? Check. Twisty political machinations? Check. Heartwarming friendships between women? Check. Strong ensemble cast? And my top FL of the year, Lady Gil-Chae, played to perfection by Ahn Eun-Jin. I've adored her since Hospital Playlist, and am delighted that she's getting the attention and the roles she deserves. Namkoong Min also a top contender for ML of the year as Lee Jang-Hyun. Part 2 dragged for me a bit in places after a nearly perfect Part 1, but such a great drama overall.

Favorite Drama of the Year: My Dearest. See above.

Favorite Female Character: I mean, it's gotta be Gil Chae from My Dearest, right? She starts out as such a spiteful, spoiled noblewoman, and then turns out to have a core of pure steel. Turns out all her conniving and strategizing, which went towards causing mischief in the village, really just needed a proper outlet. While I would never want to be in the circumstances in which she found herself, if I did, she's exactly who I would want on my side.

Favorite Male Character: Everything's coming up My Dearest this year, because this one is Lee Jang-Hyun in My Dearest as well. Checks the box for my competence kink, and has a knack for showing up just when Gil-Chae needs him, even at great personal cost. Also a smart-ass, which I probably like a bit too much in a man.

Favorite Secondary Female Character: Cho-Won from See You in My 19th Life. Her relationship with her reincarnated older sister was almost more compelling to me than the main romance sometimes, and really helped develop how the ties that bind us are not just romantic ones. Also she was just super cute

Favorite Secondary Male Character: Could have picked anyone from Team Himbo in Alchemy of Souls, but gonna have to give this one to Go Won, himbo prince of my heart

Favorite Ship: Again, it's gotta be Gil-Chae and Lee Jang-Hyun in My Dearest. Sometimes, there are drama couples that nearly cause me pain when they are apart, and these two quickly became one of them. Though their relationships is hardly functional for much of it, through all that push and pull, they ultimately learn how to show up for each other. Also, their *chemistry* is insane!

Favorite Secondary Ship: I loved Hye-Seong and Sung Joon, the B couple in Call it Love. Seeing the SFL grow more comfortable with herself after a truly shitty ending to her previous relationship was a nice respite from the hidden identity stress of the A couple in this one. I'm also a sucker for a good romance where you start to see someone you've long taken for granted differently. (Close Runner Up: Cho Won and Do-Yun in See You in My 19th Life)

Favorite Platonic Relationship: Gil-Chae, Eun-Ae, and their maids, Jong Jong and Bong Doo, in My Dearest. I loved loved loved the relationship between these women in this drama, and part of the reason the second half of the drama suffered a bit for me is because of how far it moved away from this core relationship. They were ride or die for each other more than the majority of the men in their lives, and I loved that for them.

Trope that Needs to Die: While I find murder plots in rom coms tedious at the best of times, homophobic murder plots are really not it. Quit it, y'all. It's not cute.

Dramas I Missed: Moon in the Day, The Story of Park's Marriage Contract, and Tell Me That You Love Me (grrr Disney+ on this one) are on the list for next year. I'm probably missing others.

Non-2023 Drama Spotlight: Finally went back and watched Do You Like Brahms? for a hit of Park Eun-Bin. A lovely, if also melancholy, slice of life romance that's just as much about what to do when a (career related) dream that you've worked really, really hard for just isn't going to come through as it is about the main romance. Also made me fall in love with Kim Min-Jae and his lovely deep voice, enough so that I also then went back and finally watched Dali and the Cocky Prince, which was also a treat. Recommend both.

Most Looking Forward To: I continue to yearn for a Yumi's Cells 3, and who's to say if that one will ever come through, but I'm putting it out into the universe anyway. More realistically, I'm looking forward to the surprisingly stacked line-up of sageuks coming up, including Captivating the King and Love Song for Illusion.

[itsaspectrumcomic]

man ok idk if youll be able to advise on this or something but like. do you know anything regarding dealing with like internalised ableism?

i live in a rural part of ireland, right? and idk what it is about rural ireland but some of the people are heinous. my school is in a small miserable-ass town and like. God, man. not everyone sucks, of course but like. jesus lol additionally i have a ~mildly ableist~ mother (a "we're all a little bit autistic" and "erm. youre not disabled because youre not in a wheelchair or blind/deaf" etc etc type stuff. + "npd = bad person" which isnt particularly good for me specifically because i have npd (that i both Cant get an official diagnosis for, for various reasons, and im not really Looking for one either because i know what i am and its not like you get support for it because ~ooh scary narcissist~.)

and like. idk if this is Obvious but that can kinda cause a weird-ass relationship with You (being Me in this case, yk how it is with the second person perspective when. ranting) and The Concept Of Being Disabled. like, objectively. im disabled. im autistic, ive definitely got adhd (that im hopefully going to get examined for at some point cause college stuff requires it for the disability forums and stuff. gotta love that. fuckin 80% comorbidity right?), ive got a laughable number of repetative strain injuries, i have a sensory processing disorder, an endocrine disease that effects my Entire cardiovascular system, a spine that felt a lil quirky and bent in too much. so on a so forth

but also like. it feels wrong to call myself disabled. yk, like im doing a disservice to all the other ~actually~ disabled people (being Anyone but me lol) (none of this is At All helped by the fact that my mother refuses to listen to me regarding Jack Shit about my health in Any way. "oh you nearly passed out on top of a hill because of your cardiovascular condition? erm youre just not exercising enough actually" "you dont have depression [said while i was filling out an assigned mood diary after being forcefully brought to camhs for Reasons" like. shut the fuck up and Listen to me please. at least Entertain the idea that i could be right about something for fucking once lmao. cause ive been right about EVERYTHING regarding my mental health so fucking far so. fuck off /nay ofc) (also man. like, even if you ignored the physical issues ive got im still disabled on account of being autistic. like, motor function is fine, despite being a lil clumsy and/or unsteady sometimes but like. my emotional needs are Fucked. think of the response youd get if you asked a. fuckin. 8 year old or something to do algebra. but with a very emotionally stunted and traumatised 17 year old lol. lmao, even /lh)

so like. if youve got. any advice or whatever on any of this thatd be Super cool + no pressure obvs. sorry this is a whole. like. fucking essay's worth of Random Guy Complaining To You On The Internet lol

-🐢 <- just so i can find this again if you respond. i Like Turtles. i am Normal about the tmnt and also turtles The Creatures. i wont talk at length about turtle mutant anatomy (i am deceiving you)

Internalised ableism is a really hard thing to deal with, especially when you're surrounded by people who constantly re-enforce it. I've also spent a lot of time worrying that I'm not disabled 'enough' to deserve certain accommodations, that I'm making an unnecessary fuss. But the truth is, autism IS a disability and if there are accommodations that can help support you, you deserve access to them. You're not taking away from others with disabilities by advocating for yourself.

It's taken me a long time to understand this and I still worry sometimes. What has helped is talking about my experiences with people I know understand, like my therapist or best friend, and learning about the experiences of other autistic people through books, social media, YouTube and even real life.

I'm sorry your mother and others aren't being understanding - remember that's a them problem, not you, and try to spend your time with people who do understand.

🐢🐢🐢 <- the turtles wish you luck

[thornybubbles]

JJBA Yandere Scenario: Jealousy (The Jo-Foes: Kira)

Note: Canon-typical violence and yandere behavior ahead. Nothing too detailed or graphic, but just a heads up.

Jealous Yoshikage Kira is even more predatory and calculated than he normally is. Very little bothered Yoshikage anymore, but sometimes his job at the department store annoyed him to no end. He kept getting complaints from management about ridiculous things, none of which were in Yoshikage’s job description to deal with. He knew exactly what his boss was doing. He was trying to shove his duties onto his subordinates so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Yoshikage just sighed and handled it like he always did: he sent the complaints to those over his bosses heads and went about doing his actual duties. He wanted to laugh at the thought of how angry his boss would get over being forced to deal with his own responsibilities. The best part was that he couldn’t be fired for it. He was just doing his job after all. Still, the man caused him unnecessary amounts of stress at times due to how insufferable he was. Though he was not as insufferable as the new intern. 

The young man was from some business school and it was very clear he’d never done any real work a day in his life. He was lazy, entitled, and unwilling to put effort into anything more than flirting with the office girls. All of that Yoshikage could ignore. What he couldn’t ignore, was when the intern kept flirting with you. When Yoshikage first started working alongside you, he didn’t think anything of you. You were barely a blip on his radar, but after a while of knowing you, something strange happened. He started to feel a pull towards you that he couldn’t explain. Yoshikage was no stranger to feelings of attraction and lust, but this was something different. After mulling it over a bit, he decided that his feelings for you could be nothing other than love. 

It made perfect sense. You were nothing like the other girls in the office. You didn’t spread gossip or bad mouth anyone to get a higher position like they did. You were charming, polite, and caring. You did your job thoroughly and dutifully. You did have your mischievous side, however and occasionally partook of mild office pranks. It was never anything disruptive, but oh how Yoshikage admired that little devil in you. It was cute. You were a calm, yet playful little kitty and with every day that passed he found himself falling for you more and more. You made him feel so calm and happy. Genuinely happy. Not just content or satisfied, but happy. 

The problem was that you affected him so greatly that he was unable to approach you the way he wanted to. To think that you had such a power over him. To think that the unshakable Yoshikage Kira became as shy as a school boy whenever he was in your presence. He should hate the fact that you have that kind of control over him, but it only made him want to laugh. The strangest thing about it all, was that he hadn’t even laid eyes on your hands before you started making him fall for you. He only got a glimpse of them once when you handed him a pen after he dropped it (how sweet of you). They weren’t anything special. Your nails were clipped short and unpolished, your fingers were calloused from holding a pen (you were always taking notes), and the skin on the backs of your hands was dry and flaky. Normally this would have been a turn off for him, but seeing your hands in such a state only made him pity you. You poor thing. It was obvious you were neglecting yourself. There was no reason why a girl shouldn’t pamper herself every once in a while, especially one that worked as hard as you did. That’s when he got a wonderful idea. 

Once every week for the next few weeks, you would find a carefully arranged gift basket containing all manner of beauty and self care products, especially manicure kits and nail polish. You would stare at them in shock and awe and Yoshikage nearly swooned every time he saw the blush on your face. Clearly you were flattered at the thought of having an admirer and the thought filled him with delight. To think that he made you blush! When you actually started using some of the polish and hand lotions he gave you, he was over the moon. He thought about putting some jewelry in the gift baskets, too, but later decided that it would be a bit too much this early in the relationship. To think that he was already imagining what your ring finger would look like bearing an engagement ring. The thought had him leaning on his desk, resting his head in one hand, and staring at his computer screen like a teenager daydreaming about his crush during class. He would have to snap himself out of such a state in order to get back to work. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. You were making it very hard for the normally patient man to bide his time and woo you properly.

He had already broken up with his current “girlfriend”. It didn’t feel right to start another relationship when he was already in one. Yoshikage was not that kind of man. He may have had many “lovers” during his life, but he was always loyal to them when they were together. Fortunately, things with his current “girlfriend” were beginning to cool off anyway. There was no bitterness between them when they said their goodbyes. He thought back to all of his previous relationships and noticed that none of them made him feel the way you did. (Maybe that was because they were only severed hands and nothing more, but that’s beside the point. Or is it?) He’d only ever felt attraction towards his other girls and little else. He felt nothing meaningful for them at all. You were different. He admired you, genuinely cherished you. He loved you. That must be the case if he felt so strongly drawn to you without being attracted to your hands. He found the rest of you to be attractive enough. He thought that maybe it was time to dispense with having only romantic flings and finally find someone to settle down with. If only he could get over his shyness. The thought of approaching you made his heart race and he had to make an effort to avoid chewing on his nails. 

Yoshikage had been mentally working himself up to talk to you for days now. He didn’t want to mention that he was your secret admirer just yet. That could be a fun surprise for later, after the two of you had been dating for a while. He didn’t know what he’d do if you turned him down though. The thought of it made him want to retch. On this particular day, Yoshikage had decided that even if he didn’t ask you out, he was at least going to talk to you. He thought that maybe you would think him odd if he just asked you out without ever even speaking to you before, so it would be better to at least talk to each other first. But before he could make a move, he saw that repulsive intern walk over to your desk. The low life had the nerve to lean over you and grab your hand! He made a show of admiring your nails before saying,

“Wow. Those are really nice!” 

You smiled up at the intern, flattered. 

“Thanks. I was going to go with a light red, but I thought that was too inappropriate for work, so I toned it down with one of the polishes my secret admirer got me.” you said, happy to have someone notice the work you’d done on your nails. It had been a long time since you bothered pampering your hands after all. You were very proud of how they turned out. 

“Oh? A secret admirer?” the intern said in a teasing manner. 

“Yeah….” you said, then turned in your chair to give the intern your full attention. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” 

Yoshikage stopped typing. He lowered his head just enough to hide the fact that he was watching the scene play out between the two of you. How long had you been trying to find the identity of your secret admirer? Did that mean something significant or was he overthinking things? His heart was pounding so much that it was making his shirt and tie vibrate with each beat. 

“Oh… I might.” said the intern. 

Yoshikage’s entire body tensed up. 

“Is that a confession?” you asked, giving the intern a playful look.

“Possibly…” he said, returning the look.

Yoshikage was fuming. Was that disgusting little worm actually trying to take credit for his gifts?!

Your eyes grew wide in realization. 

“Wait a minute? Are you saying that you’re my secret admirer?” you asked. 

The intern gave his nails a non-committal glance. 

“Sure. Why not?” he said. 

You proceeded to gush over him and how thoughtful the gifts were and which polishes and lotions were your favorite. The whole time, Yoshikage was doing his best to stop himself from leaping over the desks and ending the intern’s life. 

That little bastard is lying to you! He thought. Why can’t you see it! Please see that it's a lie!!

Then something dreadful happened. You hopped up from your chair and threw your arms around the intern’s neck. The embrace only lasted a moment but it was far too long for Yoshikage’s taste. Unable to look at the scene any longer, Yoshikage’s eyes locked onto his computer screen. He’d been typing the whole time, trying to look as if he wasn’t spying on you and the intern, but his report was ruined. The whole screen was filled with one word typed over and over again: 

“DIE!” 

He gasped softly at the sight. He was losing control. Quickly, he deleted what was on the screen. He could fix it later. Right now he needed to get out of there. He needed to calm down. 

Or else he was going to do something drastic. He got up from his desk, making an attempt to look as casual as possible in spite of how badly his hands were shaking, and headed for the bathroom. He was ever so grateful to find it unoccupied. 

Once inside, he pressed himself against the wall and gasped for breath. He was beginning to hyperventilate. His breath was coming out in ragged huffs and it felt like his lungs were shrinking. His blood pressure was going through the roof and his head hurt so badly. His heart felt like it was going to burst through his ribs. He’d been angry before, but never like this. He glanced at his fingernails. They’d grown exponentially in only a few minutes. His claws were coming out at the worst possible time. He had to calm down. He had to! But he couldn’t calm down until he figured out what to do. He couldn’t lose you to that worthless bastard! He couldn’t lose you to anyone! HE COULDN’T LOSE YOU!!! He was so angry he was going to explode!!!

Explode? 

Explode…

Of course! How could he be so stupid? How could he nearly lose control over an obstacle with such an easy solution? He smiled and sighed in relief, letting himself sag against the wall. Obstacle? No. Hardly even that. This was merely a speed bump. All he had to do was slow down and roll right over it. He chuckled at himself. His heart rate and breathing had returned to normal. He still had a bit of a headache, but he could take something for that later. He pushed away from the wall and walked over to the sink. He turned it on and let the cool water run into his hands before splashing it onto his face. He took one deep, long sigh before finally reigning in his temper. He pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser and patted his face dry. 

He spotted a flash of pink and black in the mirror as he glanced at his reflection. Killer Queen had manifested and was staring at him in the reflection. That was odd. He must’ve summoned the Stand by accident when he was having his near meltdown. Killer Queen made eye contact with him in the reflection. He reached up with his hand and dragged a gloved finger across his throat. Yoshikage was stunned for a moment. His Stand had never shown any kind of sentience before, though he certainly agreed with the sentiment. Perhaps Killer Queen shared his feelings for you? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he supposed it wasn’t really a problem. 

“That’s right, my friend.” he said quietly so that no one passing by would overhear. “We’ll make the little rat pay for laying claim to something that doesn’t belong to him.” 

Later that night, the intern walked into his home to find Yoshikage Kira sitting at his kitchen table. 

“Kira!” the intern cried. “What the hell are you doing in my house? Get the hell out before I call the police!” 

Yoshikage smiled wryly. He glanced over at the smoking remains of the phone that used to hang on the kitchen wall. 

“You can try, but it looks like your phone is out of order.” Yoshikage said in a calm tone. 

The intern ran past him and into the living room, looking for his other phone, only to find that one in the same condition. He ran back into the kitchen and tried to run back out the door only to find it stuck. He pulled and pulled but it wouldn’t budge. Killer Queen was holding it closed, eyeing the intern intensely. The intern gave up on the door. He turned to face Yoshikage. 

“What do you want? Why are you here, Kira?” he demanded as he panted for breath. 

Yoshikage rose from the table, careful to slide the chair back under the table. He knew it wouldn’t matter in a few moments, but cleaning up after oneself was always a good habit to keep. 

“I’m just here to do a little pest control.” 

The intern blinked in confusion. 

“Pest control?” 

“Yes. Must I spell it out for you?” Yoshikage huffed. 

“Okay, fine.” the intern said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Spell it out then. What is this about?” 

“This is about you taking credit for my work.” Yoshikage explained. 

“What?! When did I do that?” 

“Today, when you were talking with her.” Yoshikage growled, feeling his ire beginning to rise. “You lied to her. You told her that you were her admirer even when you know that’s not true!” 

The young man blinked and then scoffed in disdain. 

“So you were the admirer?” he said. “Oh my God. Are you serious? You came to my house to threaten me over a god damned chick?!” 

Yoshikage walked up to where the intern stood and placed a hand against the side of his head. The intern flinched at the touch and looked up at him in confusion. 

“W-what the h-hell are you do---- AAAAAACK!!” 

Yoshikage had slammed the intern’s head against the kitchen cabinet. The intern crumpled to the floor, clutching his bleeding scalp. 

“Ah! A-ah! You.. ah!” was all he could say. The room was spinning and the intern was starting to feel a bit sick. 

“Oh my. That’s a nasty looking bump.” Yoshikage mocked. 

Killer Queen hoisted the intern off the floor. His head was spinning so much that he hadn’t even noticed that something he couldn’t see was holding him up. 

“You seem a bit dizzy. Let’s get you some water.” 

Killer Queen dragged the intern over to the sink and bent him backwards until his bloody head was hanging in the basin. Yoshikage adjusted the faucet to line up with the intern's face, then reached over and turned on the water. The intern sputtered and choked as Killer Queen held him under the gushing flow. 

“Now, don’t overdo it, Killer Queen.” Yoshikage chuckled. “No reason we can’t play with our prey a little bit first.” 

He noticed the small smile the Stand had on his face. 

After a few moments, Yoshikage decided that it was time to end it. He reached over and turned off the water. Killer Queen visibly pouted and Yoshikage was almost tempted to pat the Stand’s head. 

“Alright, that’s enough now. We’ve had our fun, but it’s time to get down to business.” he said. 

The Stand perked up at that. He let go of the intern who collapsed onto the tile floor in an exhausted, panting heap. 

“You brought all of this on yourself, you know.” Yoshikage said. “None of this would have happened if you only remained content to chase after those water cooler harpies and left my darling alone.” 

“Y-yo-- y-you’re insane…” the intern gasped out after finally regaining some of his breath. “I… I’m going to tell my uncle about this!” 

“You’re uncle?” Yoshikage asked. 

“The assistant manager! Your boss!” the intern cried, feeling unduly brave for some reason. 

“Ah! Now the pieces have come together.” Yoshikage said with a laugh. “I suppose he’s the only reason you’re training with the Kame Yu administration team as opposed to cleaning toilets. It only makes sense that his nephew would be as insufferable as he is. You strike me as the type that never got anywhere in life unless your mommy and daddy or someone else arranged it for you. I despise parasitic little vermin like you and I’ll be doing society a favor by ridding it of your presence! To think someone as worthless as you dared put their filthy hands on my angel!” 

The intern’s face went pale and he stared up at Yoshikage in horror when he realized  the meaning of his words. 

“N-no! You can’t!” he whimpered. 

“Sorry, but only one of us will be returning to work tomorrow. It certainly won’t be you, because you are about to have a very unfortunate accident.” Yoshikage said as he looked back at Killer Queen who was just removing his gloved hands from the top of the stove. 

The Stand faded away, but not before sending a vicious kick to the intern’s chest, breaking two of his ribs. Yoshikage shook his head. He didn’t know if his Stand’s new-found independence would prove to be troublesome or not, but that was another thing he could deal with later. 

Yoshikage watched the explosion and resulting fire from the alley a block from the intern’s house. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the scent of destruction in the air. Never had a kill left him feeling so free and untroubled. It was like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt like he had just been to a spa. Now he had you all to himself, with no one to try to insert themselves between him and you. Though, you would most likely be distraught when you heard what happened to the intern. The authorities would deem it an accident, attributing it to a faulty gas stove. Poor thing, you were so sensitive to things like that. Having such a gruesome death happen to someone you worked so closely with, would no doubt have a negative impact on you. Perhaps that was how he could finally approach you? Surely you would need a shoulder to cry on? He could come to your aid as a concerned co-worker. 

Who knows? Maybe you would even let him hold your hand.