#the person who sent this won't care i know but i guess for everyone else

[qqueenofhades]

Is it foolish of me to sympathize with how marginalized people on the far-left are incredibly frustrated that the Democratic establishment isn't as scared of/desperate to please them as the Republican establishment are toward the MAGA fringe? I guess from their perspective, voting feels like begging - most of the people who hear you won't even glance at you, let alone drop you a coin. But you still have to do it, or else you (or worse, your family) are *guaranteed* to starve.

Okay, a few thoughts here. Note: for you and the other people who have recently sent politics asks, I have been very deliberately NOT talking about it for the last few months. I had to break it yesterday because of the Orange Menace finally getting fucking convicted, but I do want to go back to not doing that (at least for the next few weeks/months/until whatever else stupid happens). So while I will answer this, I am generally not going to answer others and my apologies for that, but yeah. It's just so much and I have GOT to keep myself sane until November somehow. (Or God forbid, afterward, but you know.)

First off, most members of the American far left aren't actually marginalized people, or at least not marginalized enough that their personal well-being seems in any way likely to be affected by their loud and ceaseless campaign to tell other people not to vote. Actual marginalized people who have lived in America for any length of time are *well* aware of how the government and the state can be weaponized against them; witness how black community organizers will voice well-deserved criticisms of the Democratic establishment or other aspects of American party politics that are frustrating for everyone, but they will still always tell people to vote. Black people are also extremely aware that earning the right to vote was an incredibly long, difficult, and bloody battle that they were never given it for free, and the white power establishment fought them having it at every turn. They are thus far more aware than your average white online leftist that voting matters, because they had to work so hard to get it (and still to defend it as various red states launch openly racist assaults on voting rights, especially aimed at disenfranchising people of color). Witness how Bernie also got literally zero traction with African American voters, despite being the darling of the (white) online left.

Hispanic people are also (rightfully) frustrated at how both American parties can use Latino immigrants as a political football, but they're still backing Biden by 30-point margins. We hear a lot of chatter about Trump supposedly gaining ground with voters of color -- maybe he has, though I doubt it, but that's still incremental gains from the massive holes he was in before, and where he generally remains. Arab Americans are (rightfully) angry with Biden over Gaza, but even in the much-hyped Michigan primary, he got roughly the same amount of "uncommitted" voters as Obama did as an uncontested incumbent in 2012, and most of them have said they'll grit their teeth and vote for him in the general election anyway. Yes, a few of them have decided not to, but they are not the size of the Black and Latino populations in America insofar as electoral power, and many of them have grudgingly decided that as bad as Biden might be on this particular issue (though far less so than the social media groupthink would paint him) the alternative (i.e. Trump openly promising to deport everybody who's not white and crack down on pro-Palestinian protests and anything else) is much, much worse.

And yet, white leftists seem utterly incapable of making these same calculations. Frankly, I'm not sure they actually care about Gaza, let alone anything else they say, because if so, they wouldn't be slavering at the mouth to let Trump back in there to "teach a lesson" to Biden, Democrats, and everyone else who was not Smart And Clever Enough to sanctimoniously sit on their hands and let the fascists take over. I know this because they spent all their time lying about Biden and distorting his record and insisting people not vote even before October of last year, and then it only got ten thousand times worse. I'm not saying that all leftist or leftist-identified people are white, but they are disproportionately predominant in leftist spaces and in pushing the idea that there's "no difference" between the parties and somehow Trump and Biden are morally equivalent or will have the same amount of impact on what will happen after one of them is elected. That is, yes, because they are white and they have the privilege of assuming that a weaponized fascist government will not go after them for that reason (even though Trump and his surrogates are now claiming that "everyone" who opposes Trump has to be "dealt with.") As such, when you say that marginalized far-left people are frustrated with the Democrats, I'm... not entirely sure that's true. Marginalized people AND the far left are both frustrated with the Democrats, but one of those groups has generally still decided not to voluntarily disenfranchise themselves, and the other is pumping out Vladimir Putin-wet-dream anti-voting propaganda at every chance they get.

There is also the fact that America is not a left-wing country in any sense of the word, and that while it's easy for the MAGA Republicans to go ever further far-right and promise to be even more outrageously cruel and stupid and fascist than ever before, but that's not an actual policy or a plan. It is also a strategy of diminishing returns; witness the fact that for all the cruelty and stupidity Republicans have pumped into the public arena since 2016, they haven't actually been that good at winning elections, and most of their major successes have come from Trump winning in 2016 and thus being able to stack SCOTUS and the district and circuit courts with hand-picked right-wing nut jobs, who are functioning exactly as they were designed to do. (Which Hillary Clinton warned about, along with everyone else, and yet she was taken out by the exact same dirtbag leftist disinformation moral purity machine that is working overtime to handicap Biden for the exact same reasons.) Mainstream Democrats warned about this before the 2016 election and were scorned and laughed off. Indeed, the entire Online Left continues to resolutely deny that the extremist SCOTUS is responsible for anything (It's Biden's Fault) and thus are likewise identical to Trumpies. And since they also want Trump to get back in there and teach a lesson to the Democrats, they're just as anti-democratic, dangerous, stupid, and deliberately short-sighted as actual MAGATs, and can by no means be considered allies to the singular movement of keeping fascists out of power. That is our only present goal.

If Democrats bent over to everything the far left asks for (which is often a combination of tankie gobbledygook, various vague ideas about Communism utopia where capitalism magically vanishes with no consequences, half-baked revolution cosplays, and other stuff that is functionally equivalent to the wildest lunacies of MAGA) they would never win an election again, and that would be exactly what the fascists want. Witness how they struggled when they were branded "defunders of the police" and "socialists" and other effective responses to the mildest milquetoast efforts for reform or accountability. And the political climate right now is just far too dangerous to throw everything to the wind and prance out some pipe-dream perfect-utopia plan. I'm sure you've heard about Project 2025 and how the far-right Heritage Foundation is planning to systematically implement fascism at all levels of the country, the instant they have a compliant Republican president and congress. I would take all these people crying about Biden even a fraction more seriously if they weren't openly jonesing for something that is so unbelievably, incredibly worse.

For example: I currently have major beefs with literally the entire foreign policy of the Biden administration right now. I think they're being too hard on Ukraine (forbidding them to strike targets on Russian soil with American weapons, which would end the war faster) and, despite some promising signs and open displeasure, still far too easy on Israel. They looked foolish after insisting that Rafah was a red line and then essentially making up an excuse that what's going on now is not a "major operation." Secretary of State Blinken floating the idea of helping Congress censure or neuter the International Criminal Court arrest warrants issued for Netanyahu and co. was also one of the fucking stupidest things I've heard from a serious (i.e. non-Trumpist) American diplomat in a long time. So we respect the ICC when it issues warrants for tyrants we don't like (Putin), but when it issues one for tyrants we still do, apparently (Netanyahu), then bingo, it's back to the bad old habit of ignoring international law like we're special and it doesn't apply to us, and allows all the other bad actors around the world to do the same by pointing at America and correctly pointing out that we ignore it when it doesn't suit our purposes. I think this is wrong and I don't agree. So? What am I going to do?

Well, you see. I'm going to vote for Biden and I am going to give him money and I am going to remind everyone I know that they have no moral option but to do the same. I do this because I am aware that despite my disagreements, Biden is acting from a cautious anti-interventionist standpoint and does not want to throw American military might around recklessly or dangerously like good ol' George Dubya or Trump or even Obama and the drones. He is listening to sober mainstream advisors who have (however incorrect and useless) ideas about "avoiding escalation" and trying to bring conflict to a managed end. He is doing this with a realistic appraisal of the power of the office of American presidency and he's not going to capriciously end democracy and become a full-blown fascist dictator on day one, as Trump has openly and repeatedly promised to do. Yes, if there was a viable option apart from Biden, maybe I would think about voting for them, but there is not, and literally everyone who does not actively vote for him is helping Trump. I do not care about any other contrived and disingenuous online squealing. I know that Biden does not want the war in Gaza to go on for no reason and for maximum carnage; Netanyahu and Trump both do. That is just to name one thing.

So: yes. I absolutely understand being frustrated with the Democrats and wishing they would push harder and etc. But I am also aware that they can be pushed, that they are the only option right now, and the people who huff and puff and whine and groan about how it's such a moral imposition to vote for them are literally doing the fascists' work for them, and that is not acceptable. If they want a better system or a better world that isn't just useless internet fantasies about magical end-of-days Raptures fixing everything, also a la the crazy fundamentalists, they will have to get off their ass, do the work, and create that change. I will be happy to vote for that candidate when or if they arrive. In the meantime, I will continue to do my damndest to ensure that we even have a chance to get there. So yeah.

[kirarifutari]

enhypen as fast food workers (enhypen ot7.)

GENRE .. !? enhypen ot7 headcanons i guess... pureee crack, comedy

WARNINGS .. !? not proof read, swearing, for shits and giggles don't take anything to heart lol

WC ..?! approx 852

NOTES.. ?! okay pls blame @dazed-hee for putting this thought into my head and helping me w this... i cannot believe i sat my ass down and wrote this,, yes i just got off work ... anyway i hope u enjoy this goofy little piece pls like + reblog to support!!

heeseung

actually does his job properly LOLLL

he's so good at it asw he is never ever stressed 😭😭 he never complains either he just gets shit done ?? like you'll be on shift w him and magically you don't have to do anything ever bc somehow he has it under control…?

all the customers love him asw LMAO he's the type to remember regulars 🙏

god sent everyone needs a heeseung to work with, he's even nice to the rude customers but is not afraid to be a little passive aggressive bitch 🤧

he never talks badly about anyone so no one ever shit talks him?? but if you ask him ab drama he'd be like “not naming any names but…” 😭

jay

he is exactly like heeseung except when is jay ever NOT stressed

he is internally crying every five seconds over something and every time a customer complains about something you can see the light in his eyes die little by little 💀💀

he doesn't even care what anyone else is doing he's just so caught up in doing his job he doesn't realise that he's doing everything himself…  more utc!

if you catch him on a good day tho you can hear him make fun of customer orders 😭 “who the fuck orders 3 hamburgers past the age of three years old…”

let's you do whatever you want bc hes too busy dealing w the emerging grey hairs 🙏

jake

the best person to work your shift w for a good time hands downnn

he's so funny he will make you cackle every five seconds,, you'll be taking a drive thru order and you'd be trying so fucking hard not to laugh into the mic 😭 he will fr start SINGING in ur ear goodbye

super friendly w customers and will literally start a conversation ab the most random things ?? “bro did you just order this family box?? you eating that yourself? that's crazy, mad respect” 💀

dawg does everything all at once, making burgers, taking orders, handing out food, changing the bins ??? yet somehow he's the one goofing off the most ? 

sunghoon

doesn't know how he landed the job tbh… everyone expected him to be unemployed the rest of his life 🔥

HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO COUNT CHANGE W CASH 😭 bro tries his hardest but is always fumbling around fr,, our maths legend

the type to be like “hm? i can't hear you” “what did you say? “yeah just gimme a minute” he is TOO CHILL he's so unserious ab this job he clocks on and does nothing half the time 🙏 he'll say he'll do what you ask him too but... you both know he won't xoxox

somehow he's still one of the managers favourites and gets good shifts every week… 

if a customer yells at him he'd be like “yeah give me a second” and then just gets someone else to deal with it LMFAO 💀

sunoo

THE BIGGEST SHIT TALKER having a shift w him is so good, he somehow knows everything that's going on w everyone ??? fills you in w all the gossip fr.

he's rly bubbly w all the nice customers and is one of the nicer employees to work with but if ur on his bad side … 💀💀💀

like if you annoy him as a customer he will hand you order wordlessly and look you up and down HE DOESNT CAREEE BROOO 😭

if anyone ever blames him for doing something wrong on shift he literally will just be like “that wasn't me tho 😄😄” biggest liar and everyone knows it but no one cares cus we all love him 🫶

sunoo will definitely be the type to buy you food on his break or give you free stuff when you clock off 😭

jungwon

would be the biggest gas lighter LMFAO

“oh you ordered a double big mac and not a regular? yeah on our register it's gone through as regular so i don't know what you want me to do, you can pay for another one tho!” 💀💀💀💀

bro gives so much sass to rude customers he does NOT gaf, he does it all w a smile on his face too like “sorry about that but we can't do anything to fix it 😊” 

he’d be so chill w his co workers asw, he would really care if everyone's messing around but somehow w him on shift everything goes oddly smoothly… 

working w him is so fucking funny cus he will never take no for an answer w a customer he will keep pushing until they LEAVE 😭

niki

LMFAOOO okay this kid fucking hates his job LOL

will spit in a customers drink because he can 🙏 he will not take shit from anyone and he knows no one will fire him bc they're understaffed 😚

plays the best music and always has kitchen speaker aux !!!

if you ask him to remake a burger or help you with something he'll either give you a blank stare or a “no, i won't.” and then do it for you anyway 👊👊 he is such a little menace but he doesn't care 

w annoying ass customers he will literally start arguing w them STOP

would go viral on tiktok cus some customer was filming him being rude but everyone would be siding w him bc niki is always in the right godbless.

[writingpracticetime]

Did you have any thoughts, story-wise, on what Sandy herself thinks of all this and what her circumstances are? There are of course the inferences that can be made from that letter she got sent (and more specifically that it was turned over unopened) but is/was she in the public eye? Is she kept under close observation in case Constructor/Architect tries to approach her directly, and so on?

Oh I absolutely do have story thoughts about Sandy's opinions on everything. But the trouble with Sandy is--

————————————

Excerpts from recordings of meetings between the Architect and various associates.

————————————

CYBERSCOUT

--and, sorry, remind me why we care?

CONSTRUCTOR

We need to try to anticipate the general public objections to this. We won't be able to avoid them, not when we're going to be breaking so many laws. But we can at least anticipate them and get our own narrative out in advance. 

HOBBES

I don't think you get the question. We're villains. Why are we tiptoeing around "public objections?"

CONSTRUCTOR

Because, this is ultimately for the public. We need to try and get out the word about how people are asking for our help, so people know we're responding to their needs. Besides, we can’t accomplish anything for the public without the public. Like Sandy said.

CYBERSCOUT

Who?

CONSTRUCTOR

My--nevermind. Anyway, as I said, let me try to figure things out with Lethe for a minute.

CYBERSCOUT

Alright, alright. I needed to head out anyway, just call me when you have an idea of what shit you want me to spread online.

(Shuffling, people leaving and closing the door behind them.) 

CONSTRUCTOR

So you should have a better idea of what people are going to say to all of this. (Pause) Lethe?

LETHE

Sandy...? Cassandra White?

CONSTRUCTOR

You know her?! (Pause) Wait, then--what does she think about me now? Has she--

LETHE

Oh, u-uh no, sorry. I haven't--I never met her, never stood close enough to read her mind certainly. I-I wouldn't know what she thinks about you.

CONSTRUCTOR

...Oh.

LETHE

I just... heard a lot about her.

CONSTRUCTOR

...Funny. Not many people have.

LETHE

Yeaaaaah, um.

——————————

Blog post by Edward Katzenberger, journalist. Later removed and found on wayback.archive.org.

——————————

WHO IS CASSANDRA WHITE?

So, my long term followers all know about my hilariously derailed profile of Constructor assigned shortly before the stadium incident. I’ve kept you all abreast of the many, many delays related to high security super prisons and then my subject running off to start a supervillain career. Because of course, the second I get assigned this extremely exciting personality piece, Constructor becomes completely unreachable.

Alright, well, you might not believe me, but Constructor's manager/agent turned out to be even harder to reach.

At the time, I decided to take the "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" approach and paint a portrait of Constructor based on the testimonies of coworkers, friends and family. I then found out that I could get testimonies from construction workers and urban planners about what the hero was like to work with (largely positive, if saddened by the recent turn of events) but nothing on what this incredibly beloved figure was like as a friend or family member.

The one thing I kept hearing from everyone was "Cassandra White would know more. The two of them seemed really close."

Now there was a problem: I couldn't find out who the fuck Cassandra White was.

———————————

BONFIRE

You got a--Oh, sorry. Working on something right now?

CONSTRUCTOR

Not work. I'm just-- (sounds of paper, flipping and folding it as Bonfire gets close) Just writing something.

BONFIRE

Writing...?

CONSTRUCTOR

Just scrawling out some thoughts, I guess.

LETHE

Mm. (Quiet) What are you both looking at me for?!

CONSTRUCTOR

What was that about?

LETHE

What was what about??

BONFIRE

Something about the writing...?

LETHE

Nothing! Nothing about the writing. I was just, I was making a noise. Thinking about something else, hahaha.

BONFIRE

.....What is it?

CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing! ... Lethe.

LETHE

I'm sorry! Don't be mad at me!

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not mad! That was just--that was private.

BONFIRE

What was private?

LETHE AND CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing!

CONSTRUCTOR

(After a pause) ...I was just writing to Sandy again.

BONFIRE

(Irritated, sizzling noise) Ah, right. Sandy.

CONSTRUCTOR

See! This is why I didn't want to tell you.

BONFIRE

I don't see why you couldn't--

LETHE

Leaving! I'm leaving!

————————

It turns out Cassandra White was Constructor’s agent. I try to look her up online and? Nothing. No facebook profile, no personal website, not even a LinkedIn. 

That has to be odd for someone who works in PR, right?

I do a little searching to find the agents of other superheroes. I contacted one, and got an interview. I've lost the thread of trying to piece together Constructor's life but I'm curious dammit. I mention the issue I've had with finding her anywhere. He nods his head while I explain the wild goose chase I've been on.

"Well, White is a whole other ballgame," he says. "She took her privacy seriously, and I'm also pretty sure she scrubbed a lot of her history. She was meticulous about records--knowing names in media, tech, and various public archives who could help you scrub a dumb tweet before it snowballed into a PR crisis for your client."

"You can get rid of internet records?"

"Well, not easily. And not after people realize they're important, that's for sure," he said. "I once told her things on the internet are forever. She said, 'No. If people pay attention, then they're forever. But if no one cares in the first place, then it never existed at all.'"

"So there was a process she used to make sure people's images stayed clean," I said, "And she used the same process to make herself a ghost?"

"I imagine so. I mean, she's retired from being an agent and has her fingers in all sorts of other pies these days. Businesses, investments, politics. Plus, I imagine becoming a billionaire or whatever has made her priorities shift."

Billionaire. I think I almost choked on my coffee. "You can become a billionaire from being a PR agent?"

"You can't," he said. "But White did."

—————————

DOC

--nd now that we got that patched up, this is the part where you tell my why the fuck the police caught you anyway.

CONSTRUCTOR

Uhh... Dunno. Not sure how they found me.

DOC

Where did they track you down?

CONSTRUCTOR

Um... I'm not feeling up for this conversation right now.

HOBBES

It was that new square in York XIV that looks like a Whole Foods staged a violent invasion.

DOC

....okay, is there a reason you decided to be wandering alone around in an area with shit ton of white moms ready to call the police on your ass?

CONSTRUCTOR

....Yeah, I was alone because I thought everyone here would tell me not to go. (Sigh) Look, I'm not gonna–

CYBERSCOUT

(poking head in) The Whole Foods place? Oy, isn't that where that old chick you're stalking has a house?

CONSTRUCTOR 

I'm not--I was delivering a letter.

HOBBES

 ....wait a minute, I remember this. "Sandy" right? Your mom? The one who turned you into the FBI?

CONSTRUCTOR

She's not my mom. (Pause) And no, she turned in my letter--which she would have to, if she was being monitored. I thought if I--

CYBERSCOUT

Wasn't she also a racist? Wasn't that a whole fight you had with Bonfire?

HOBBES

(Judgmental) You act all woke and then you go and try to be friends a racist who lives in the Whole Foods district.

CONSTRUCTOR

She's not a--That's not what the fight--this is why I went alone!

———————

This conversation afforded me with a lot of more information which I am saving for a piece on the lives of superhero PR agents, which I am now utterly fascinated by. Regarding Cassandra White, the other significant info it afforded me was that Cassandra White does in fact have a twitter account that I missed in my earlier search.

I looked into it. It's the most inoffensive twitter account I've ever seen. It feels like it was generated on a factory belt. There is a headshot of an older white woman--Cassandra White herself, it seems--as the profile pic. She tweets very rarely herself, and instead seems to mostly retweet news updates and positive platitudes or quotes from historical figures. The tweets she does make are all of an extremely inoffensive liberal variety, with the spiciest being one gentle snipe at the Republican party.

There is one other hint of her personality on this twitter. It’s an unexpected photo from inside her home, one with a quick caption that says she regularly uses a whiteboard to write out her resolutions and thoughts, and that she finds the process to clarify her goals and values. 

It reads:

IT WILL BE DONE QUIETLY.  IT WILL BE DONE CIVILLY.  IT WILL BE DONE RIGHT–OR IT WON’T BE DONE AT ALL. 

—————————

CONSTRUCTOR

Alright, alright. We can talk more about this tomorrow but for now tell them no more death matches and any blood feuds need to be put on hold when they enter this fortress.

HOBBES

(Grunts) Pussy move.

CONSTRUCTOR

I don't care if it's a pussy move.

CYBERSCOUT

Ahem--what if I made the point that you're being culturally insensitive by imposing your mainstream standards of civility on a subculture of people, villains, who have their own values in how they deal with conflict, and--

CONSTRUCTOR

I know you bet on the fights and you're not changing my mind.

CYBERSCOUT

No fun. (sigh) Lethe, I TOLD you not to snitch on me!

LETHE

I didn't!

CONSTRUCTOR

Anyway, we can figure out a more long term solution for dealing with serious vendettas but for now--I'm tired. I have something else I need to work on. Tell them not to kill each other.

HOBBES

What are you writing that's more important than a potential deathmatch, anyway?

CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing. Just-- (Shuffling of papers) leave me to it for tonight. I don't want to set a precedent where I rush over every time someone wants to kill someone else, because given the personalities here that would mean never having any time.

CYBERSCOUT

Fiiiiiiiine.

(Grumbling and footsteps as people shuffle out, followed by writing noises.)

LETHE

Hey.

CONSTRUCTOR

What? (Pause) You know what I'm doing.

LETHE

The last time you tried to deliver something….

CONSTRUCTOR

I'll send someone else to deliver it.

(More scribbling. Deep breath.)

LETHE

I lied. I read her mind. She doesn't care about you.

(Writing stops. After a slight pause, there is the sound of paper crinkling and Lethe gasps and steps back.)

LETHE

Don’t be mad at me!

CONSTRUCTOR 

(Deep, strained breath) I’m not mad. You're just wrong.

LETHE

I could literally read her mind!

CONSTRUCTOR

Okay, you're not wrong.  You're lying.

LETHE

What? I'm not!

CONSTRUCTOR

(Fuming) You think I'm an idiot just because I haven't been calling you out on it? Everyone here knows you lie about what your powers show you whenever it suits your purposes.

LETHE

(Wobbly) I--I don't have a reason to lie about this!

CONSTRUCTOR

You don't have a reason that I know. But you are such a fucking liar. No one in the fortress trusts a thing you say, and you know it. 

LETHE

Th-that's not--That's not relevant! Oh my god, you're literally never going to even consider this, a-are you? That she was just using you for the cut of your paycheck, making her fortune...

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not going to re-evaluate a decade long perception of a loved one based on the words of a known liar, Lethe. Get out.

LETHE

But--

(Rumbling, cracking of the floor.)

CONSTRUCTOR

I said get out!

———————————

The twitter account confirms she exists and nothing else. I couldn't tell you what the woman thinks about anything. On a website people use to blast their opinions to the world at all hours, this one seems specifically built to deny the existence of any individual opinions or personality. 

I scrolled all the way back to the time period during which Constructor would have had the big public meltdown at the stadium. I used the wayback machine to see if there were any deleted tweets, just in case she said anything in a fit of frustration or grief and deleted it.

But during the time where she would have been watching Constructor's breakdown, a time when everyone in the world had something to say about what Constructor had done--nothing.

Cassandra White, Constructor's closest person, had nothing to say about them at all.

[soliloquent-stark]

this is a bit all over the place, don't mind me. and don't keep reading if you dislike gooey stuff.

as you might know from the lovely asks i was sent (thank you, everyone 💗) it was my birthday yesterday. and unfortunately, as it often happens, some things didn't go so well. i won't go into details, but it was tough, and it sucked to cry on my birthday more than usual (teenage trauma throwback, am i rite) though i admit it was really handy to have a cake to absorb all the tears right up. 🤭

but good things happened, too! and almost all of them had one common denominator: k! (typing it out like this is so silly. she has a name. but for all intents and purposes, she's simply ✨k✨).

without even getting into the actual gifts that my fiancée got me this year—which are as always perfect and thoughtful and useful and just magic—or the cake, or the flowers, or anything else, i wanted to specifically showcase the marvel related stuff that put such a smile on my face:

yes, that balloon gave me heart attacks whenever i walked into the room. yes, i pretended to hate cringy cowboy seb then ended up giggling and blushing every time i looked at him. yes, the spiderman gift bag is from the children's section and we've gifted it back and forth at various occasions for over a year now.

also a superfamily celebration:

i loved feeling like a four year old little boy with my spiderman cake topper <3.

and i obviously won't share the rest of what she wrote, but the card included some sweet quotes i genuinely was so moved by, then i realised they sounded familiar, then i realised it's from my hedgehog fic (which was a gift to her, so honestly we're just throwing the same quotes back and forth pretending it's about steve and tony. it was never about steve and tony).

quoting my own writing back to me?? hello?? queen behaviour right there. also peak moment for me.

(side note, that's not even all the marvel stuff i got from her this birthday. i didn't include any gifts in this post. also, i wish there was a way to show everyone just how many marvel things we own (including fanmade posters, stickers, zines etc. support creators if you can. ❤️) and how much that shocks some people who visit us because it doesn't seem like it goes with the sapphic-grandma core we got going on. oh well, it does now.)

it would be impossible to list why k is the best person in the world without writing actual novels (believe me, i have tried and it was very long) and sharing way too much about her story. but just trust me when i say she is the best friend you could ever have, and she makes me feel so loved and appreciated every single day, which makes special occasions even harder because how do you even top that? well, she still manages to. every time. 🥺

i guess the point of this was to share some appreciation and further my k propaganda, because i can see all the effort and care she lovingly puts into everything she does for other people, and to let everyone know just how much of an angel she is. i don't care if it's corny. and if you've ever seen a comment written by whinysteve, or read her excited tags on a reblog, or directly talked to her, or simply perceived her existence in any form, you already know she's the fucking best. it's not an act, it's all real. should get my shit together and finally wife her up. 🥹

tl;dr: she makes any moment better by just being there; and when she sets her mind to it, you will feel the power of her kindness. at the end of day, to be loved is to be seen. and she's got the world record for best vision. ❤️‍🩹

[crumpetz]

Are You ok? I'm worried

I am okay! Don't worry! This goes out to everyone in the past months who's sent something like this too. I'm sorry I never replied. I was tired, saved it for later, and then forgot. If i seem like i'm blowing you off, this is probably the reason every time :')

I was putting off giving much detail, cuz i didn't want to share so much about my personal life that it felt burdensome for ppl just there to read i guess? but being vague is actually having the opposite effect so, if you don't wanna know, please skip this!

what's been going on with me is mostly a connective tissue disorder i've had since i was born, and it's the kind of thing that gets worse over time. around my last update of Big Road Home, it had one of those "getting worse" checkpoints.

i lost a lot of strength and dexterity in my hands, meaning there are some days typing isn't doable. i've had all these new food allergies and sensitivities, so a lot of my life is just in the kitchen trying to make food i can eat without reacting. i had to go off my pain meds cuz they were making the food reactions worse, so i've been spending a lot of my life managing pain (it's been surprisingly good, btw, it's just time consuming). i also had covid again, and the long-covid brain fog is so bad this time :'''( i'll be halfway through writing a sentence and forget what i just wrote and where i was going with it.

written out like this, i'm aware this seems like a lot. and it is. but i really don't want anyone to feel burdened by it. i'm not trying to do toxic positivity on myself or anyone else. i just see all this, PERSONALLY, as part of my life? like most adults have jobs they have to go to, my job that i have to go to is taking care of my body, which is trying really hard to do what i ask of it (i think working in childcare may have influenced how i think of it lol for me my body is a tired toddler and i gotta be proud of it for just showing up).

i've had these problems all my life, so i got most of the frustration out about it when i was a kid/teen. now, i've trained myself to view new limitations as a quest to find out how i'll adapt to living with that. and sometimes i do get scared i won't succeed on the quest (pain management, i'm looking at you) but so far, i've been very lucky with finding things that work for me.

all that is to say, i'm fine, just taking my time. thanks to everyone who's asked or reached out to me <3

(and just a note about the fic for anyone wondering: i'm trying to have multiple chapters ready before updating Big Road Home because otherwise there will be a cliffhanger without a quick follow-up. but the parts i'm at just happen to be when my rough drafts get really rough and are missing entire scenes because those parts were so complicated that i was saving them for later. jokes on me that i'd have brain fog when that later arrived ;v; wish me luck)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi it's me again!! I rembered my idea :3

So like, Narinder is the bishop of death and, putting it lightly, death is EXTREMELY SCARY. So when he's defeated and recruited, other followers are kinda scared of him. Then the reader comes along, and they don't really care. Death as a concept never really scared them so they're totally chill with Narinder. Also maybe like... he won't say it but it's nice having somebody not be afraid of him.

(Btw can I be known as Forgetful Anon because I will be back)

As Narinder witnessed yet another elder collapse dead near the shrine, he couldn't help but lightly smirk at the followers who gasped at the sight. Some looked terrified, other sickly, and a few were mildly uncomfortable as they wondered where their beloved leader was.

'How strange, they've seen countless followers pass on, haven’t they? I would assume they'd be desensitized to it...oh well.' He just sighed, deciding to go over to prepare the body for burial.

Nobody else could be damned to.

"Out of my way." He gnashed his teeth into a snarl as he pushed past the group, ignoring their terrified stares. "Get back to work."

Obviously, he wasn't the Lamb. So it's usually not his place to give them orders.

Yet...they obeyed him out of blind fear and left him alone.

Honestly, it was nice to still be feared and revered like the fallen god once was. The Lamb was gravely mistaken if they thought he’d be subservient to their demands just because they spared his life.

Oh no.

Death bowed to no one. 

Even in this semi-mortal coil, he remained the symbol of death--the inevitable end for every living creature. 

Every follower in this cult is well-aware of who he is. They should absolutely be terrified by his presence alone-

“You know, we usually bury the dead with their gifts.”

“By the Great Ones-!!” Narinder hissed upon hearing a voice abruptly speak, snapping his head up to see you standing there with a wheelbarrow at the ready. 

Almost instantly, he calmed down, his fur becoming less bristled as he laid the skull pendant back down on the corpse’s chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I was just..checking for dirt and grime.” He made up a lie.

“We polish it during funeral services.” You mentioned, which only further annoyed him. “You’d..probably know that if you attended our gatherings.”

“Well I don’t exactly feel welcomed. Besides, I already know how your rituals go. I saw them all through the crown. And don’t try to tell me “it’s different in-person”. I would only disrupt the service by scaring everyone.” He honestly didn’t know why he bothered talking to you--or why you even approached him.

Were you trying to make him look like an idiot who didn’t know the rules?

“That’s nonsense. All our welcomed in Lamb’s temple.”

He ignored that comment, instead going back to wrapping the body in bandages. You then looked down at the skull necklace, smiling. “The skull pendant is truly phenomenal. The power to extend a life..it’s incredible, isn’t it?”

“Hmph..yes..incredible at only delaying the inevitable.” He scoffed. “It doesn’t change the fact that your mortal lives will remain short..ever-fleeting.” Pausing in his work, he gazed at you ominously. Tell me something, [y/n]..”

“Yes, Narinder?”

“..do you fear death?”

“No.”

He was taken aback by your immediate response. “Really now? Not in the slightest?”

“Nope.” You smiled. “It’s easy to be scared of it, but...I’ve always seen it as a natural part of life. Of course, it’s sad when I see elders die or someone I talked to a second ago being sacrificed or sent off..but it doesn’t scare me, you know? It’s hard to explain but..I’m just indifferent to it, I guess.”

There was a long pause as Narinder stared at you; his face was stoic but his mind was in wonder. Perhaps you grew up on that doctrine: to not fear death. He could very well see it in your traits from the moment you arrived here.

That would explain why you approached him so willingly.

Because he, the epitome of death, didn’t intimidate you one bit.

“Fascinating..but what if you knew your time was running out, and you still had regrets? What then?”

“I wouldn’t dwell on them.” You shrugged. “I’d just make the most of my life and die knowing I did my best.”

“...I see.”

“Yeah, haha.” Remembering the task at hand, you gestured to the wheelbarrow. “Once you’re done I’ll take the body to the cemetery.”

“..o-oh, right. Of course. So Lamb couldn’t handle the burden of carrying their deceased anymore?” He chuffed as he tossed the wrapped body in. “It’s funny..they would’ve eagerly sacrificed this poor soul if I asked them to...if only I still had my power.”

“It is a heavy burden. So I volunteered to take it off their shoulders. And I clean all the shrines and plant new flowers on the graves if they’re wilted.” You’ll admit that you took some pride in your duties. “Care to accompany me?”

“I have nothing better to do, so I suppose I could.”

There was not an ounce of enthusiasm to be found in his voice, but you chuckled and started heading there. “Well c’mon, slow-poke. There’s a lot to be done in this cult!”

Narinder followed you silently, ignoring the confused looks of followers who stared at you, wondering why you’re chatting with Death like he was a friend,

Because whether he wanted to admit it or not..you were the only one who treated him as such.

[good-beanswrites]

Eheheh! The anon who sent the ask on the Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins here! Happy to hear you like the silly thought I made up, bonus on making a small drabble on it! So happy! >w<

So I guess when Mikoto's condition is revealed during his first interrogation, everyone's like "Ooooooh that's why..." over it. And uuuuuuh, does Kotoko feel bad for bashing Mikoto back then? I think it's not scripted according to that post you made back then, but no hard feelings between them, right? And I guess Shidou wouldn't be happy that the prisoners are getting into actual fights ;;

I really did! :D Thank you so much for reaching out, I love hearing people’s thoughts and ideas!!

I'm always very committed to keeping any canon hatred accurate -- I won't sugar-coat a relationship that has been stated to be terrible. However. This is not canon, and I am employing every fix-it in my arsenal >:3 So yes, there are absolutely no hard feelings between them and after every trial they hang out and make up!!

It pains me that all the violence in Mikoto’s interrogation has to be real, but yeah, neither of them pull any punches. Of course Red doesn’t want to hurt Es, but I picture all the prisoners really driven by the desire to tell their stories. Unlike in canon, the au characters are very aware that they’re going to represent a larger social issue/group of people. So when Mikoto is instructed to really sell it, he does it for the sake of accurate experiment results for others like him – and clings to the trust that Es signed up for this. 

And Kotoko’s interference is such a core part of her character: she’s observant, she’s clever, she’s used to and skilled at breaking rules, and she’s such a protector, even to the person who’s holding her imprisoned. It felt unfair to take that away from her by making it something Milgram scripted, so her reaction had to be real and just as violent ;-;

Okay so you know when you’re playing a game with friends/family and you feel very real anger at them for their decisions/actions? Then after it ends you can cool off and acknowledge it was just a game and there’s no hard feelings at all – but you can still clearly remember what made you upset and know it was valid? That’s what I'm picturing when the prisoners write their t2 plans. Kotoko’s anger towards the guilty prisoners is genuine by the end of the first trial. She’s very hurt that Mikoto wouldn’t tell them the truth about himself, after all the secrets they’d collectively shared. She’s disgusted by the others’ actions. She’s not actually planning on beating them up, but she recognizes she kinda wants to lol. Amane does hate Shidou. Yuno is tired of everyone. 

But a few days after the first trial ends, they start interacting in a setting that isn’t immersive anymore. They’re able to relax and talk through everything with clear minds. Kotoko apologizes profusely for hurting Mikoto during the interrogation, admitting that she’s not entitled to anyone else’s secrets. Amane apologizes to Shidou. She may not be as friendly to him as he was hoping, but she tells him that she understands they live under different codes and she shouldn’t hold hatred in her heart. Yuno gets a bit of time to refresh herself while they’re debriefing and collaborating with the writing team. She’s excited to be around the others by the time filming starts up again. Anyone who has anger towards Es lets it soften, feeling bad that they’re allowed to get a fun break while Es must remain asleep.

And I think Red and Kotoko would actually get really close in the au, despite their rocky start! They have very similar ideas on protecting the people they care about and being disgusted by those who abuse their power. Koto-koto duo is real!! 😤I can’t say for sure because so much could change in t3, but I’m hoping to write the two of them bonding over being labeled “the scary violent one” and slammed with a guilty vote next time ;-; 

If anything, Blue is more upset that she attacked Red than he is himself. (“That was our interrogation, what was she even doing there?”) And like you said, Shidou doesn’t want anyone to get hurt for real, so he pleads with them to keep their violence as staged as possible, going forward. He’s also extremely upset with Milgram that they’d let Es get hurt (since he’s the one who treated them afterwards). It takes such long time to assure him it won’t happen again, and that it was a one-time twist that Es signed off on beforehand.

Although I think the violence is going to get worse during this next hiatus, the au characters will actually feel less emotional, in my mind. After doing this for so long, I'm sure it would get easier to regulate which emotions are real and which result from too much immersion -- so there will be less to apologize and make up for this time, they're already very close and happy :')

[akatsuki-shin]

Can I ask a few questions about Gojo/Getou?

1.) What songs that came to your mind when you think of them (SatoSugu)?

2.) Do you think SatoSugu are queerbaiting?

3.) In Role Reversal AU, do you think Getou can kill Gojo for the greater good (like what Gojo did)?

4.) So is he (Gojo) really not feel anything with Amanai and Haibara's death?

5.) How can Gojo not realizing Geto's depression (is it because he always sent on solo missions)?

6.) (This last one is kinda a joke) Are you a GoGe or GeGo shipper?

1). "Wherever You are" by ONE OK ROCK because this fan video made for their 24-Dec death anniversary last year absolutely destroyed me, and you guys should be destroyed by it, too.

2). No, because as far as I'm concerned, that kind of best friend, bromance, soulmate-like relationship between male characters are common in practically every shounen out there for so many years, and they can be considered as fan service at most (after all, the spending power of otaku girls in Japan are already a force to be recognized in the anime industry). Besides, you don't have to necessarily view them as being romantic-coded or something. There are times when you just found that one person with whom you both totally understand each other, care about each other, feel you are equal, have the exact same vibe, that you two end up being inseparable.

3). Strength-wise, I don't think Geto is stronger than Gojo, so first of all, it would depend on whether Gojo is willing to be killed by him or if Gojo was so severely weakened that he couldn't fight back normally.

Emotion-wise, yes, I think Geto is the kind of person who is willing to make a huge sacrifice for the greater good, even if it will cost him his own life. That said, if he does end up killing Gojo, it will give a significant impact and change to his personality from thereafter.

4). Gojo is different from Geto when it comes to the way he thinks and express feelings/emotions. Geto cares too much about everyone else but himself. Gojo cares about those close to him and he won't unnecessarily hurt strangers either, but if situation calls for it, he is willing to make sacrifices. Like in Shibuya Arc, people like Geto (or Yuji) would probably prioritize saving the civilians, but Gojo prioritized exorcising the Special Grade curses.

First of all, in Riko's case, he was literally high after just being awakened to his true power so he was incapable of feeling anything else. But it isn't as if he's not angry at all; had Geto said "ok" when they met there, he would've massacred the entire cult right then and there because he knows they are the real cause of Riko's death.

There is too little information about Gojo's reaction about Haibara's death but I'm guessing that rather than losing Haibara, the thing that angers him the most would be the way the conservative higher-ups are running things that ends up in his junior's death. Because literally the reason why Haibara died is because the higher-ups's blunder in detecting the curse's level for their mission.

Satoru is born in the Gojo clan; from his childhood, he must've known all the ugliness of the bureaucracy brought about by the conservatives old people. Honestly, if it were up to him, he would've straight up killed those higher-ups (he said this in canon in his anger after Yuji's first death). But in his youth, he was using Geto as a moral compass, so he didn't do it (and he might yet to care that much about it at that time) . As an adult, he already realized that killing them wouldn't solve anything, so he must replace them by a whole new generation who wouldn't commit the same mistake they did — a resolution he found after his "breakup" with Geto, after realizing that he could not save his best friend, no matter how strong he is.

Despite how he looks, Gojo is actually quite farsighted. He doesn't want to just solve emerging problems, he wants to pull them out from the roots. That's why he doesn't look like he's too affected by his comrades' death. He does feel things, but he suppresses them well enough because he knows acting on impulse won't solve the actual problem.

5). The answer to this question may relate somewhat to Gojo's personality and thoughts that I wrote for the previous question (No. 4), but there are indeed other factors.

I personally think it's more because of Geto himself than Gojo.

Geto is the kind of person who cares more about others than himself. He cares a lot about his peers, but it means he is too mindful of others for his own good, and he doesn't want to trouble them as much as he can. Everytime he has a problem, he will say he's alright and hide it behind a smile, just like when Gojo asked him if he's alright because he's gotten thinner, but Geto only laughed it off and said the summer heat's getting to him when he's been losing sleep and appetite over his trauma and dilemma.

He is literally the epitome of someone who won't seek help for his mental health problems because he doesn't want to trouble other people and ends up exploding from it in the end after his mind and heart could no longer hold it in. You can see that after he decided to become a villain, he doesn't even bother explaining to Gojo and Shoko despite those two being his closest friends, and he doesn't demand them to understand him either.

6). I'm in the "GoGe" team because Geto is way too mom and waifu material to me lmao

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

leon's characterization in re4r strays too far away from the rest of his iterations- so much so that it no longer feels like this is the same leon

(IN MY OPINION lol)

i've had enough time to really soak in re4r, how the game is, how leon's characterized and how (i believe) this iteration of leon is fundamentally so different in comparison to re4 leon (and the rest of the iterations of leon.) to keep things simple, og re4 leon will be re4 leon and re4 remake leon will be 4R leon.

everyone knew going into 4R that it was going to be a grittier, darker version of re4. it wasn't going to be as campy and frankly- silly as the original. however they were able to keep a few of the one liners in. (the fact that they were going to cut out the bingo line is insane to me lol)

we have the obvious ptsd and the traumatic retellings of re2r as the beginning of 4r, giving us an indication of how this story is going to go. leon is ALREADY jaded, cold, angry, and feels as though his life isn't in his control. (it isn't)

with re4, we have this version of leon where he cracks jokes (a lot) and is generally aloof with most of his interactions with people. but he still harbours anger, he still gets angry when the time arises. ex when he faces krauser. but he's not just a cunt to everyone lol SURE he's silly and goofy, a bit too much even for my tastes. but campiness aside, he's still nice to ashley, gentle to her even. he knows that she's a young girl and is afraid. she is defenseless and can not take care of herself. the interactions between leon and luis are minimal in re4 in comparison to 4R so i won't go deep into it. and leon and Ada are seemingly fine as well. they go on as if nothing bad ever really happened between them (even though he knows she's working for someone else.) he just ends up trusting ada to do the right things (and even if she doesn't) he still lets her go on her merry way.

my biggest complaint has been his interactions with ashley actually. he (both re4 and 4R leon) may find ashley annoying, or find her teenage like personality a bit grating-

but he (re4 leon) is in no way ANGRY or resentful towards ashley-

WHICH 4R LEON IS. when he first finds ashley, his main reaction/response isn't relief or joy. it's annoyance when she decides to fight him back (RIGHTFULLY SO SINCE SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHO HE IS) and instead of immediately trying to comfort her, he gets annoyed- and for some reason ashley just relents (after leon says one time that her dad sent him there) and then she decides that leon is safe.

when i say 4R Leon is a cunt to everyone. I mean, he is uncharacteristically rude/curt to LITERALLY EVERYONE. he's rude to Ashley (for no reason, he should be nice(?), she's literally his employer's daughter), Luis (i don't really care, he can be rude I guess), Ada (his anger here is okay, but misplaced.)

he's consistently rude, and avoidant towards ashley. only when he realizes that she's legitimately scared does he try to comfort her. but it's in no way similar to re4 leon's "you did it!" and the casual banter between them. re4 ashley is ... sure, more "annoying" but i find her more endearing in a way. 4R ashley is also sick of leon's shit, trying to make light of the situation in most cases as leon walks around like there's a stick up his ass. (IT'S FAIR THAT HE'S TRAUMATIZED, but WHY is he taking it out on EVERYONE ELSE) it's clear that they are both stuck with each other, as opposed to leon's here to save ashley. ashley being- not able to save herself, and leon- probably losing his fucking job if he can't get ashley home.

now i would forgive his behaviour, but now it makes it harder to bridge the gaps. the closest piece of media in the timeline is infinite darkness. and he's resorted back to this "good, loyal, obedient, noble," character. we have a singular clip of him perhaps "in contemplation," of his career/life, but we don't have anywhere the amount of explanation of his life at the moment. and we still have a moment of defiance when he actively goes against claire's wishes because he KNOWS that what claire wants with the chip is dangerous and a death wish. he was willing to ruin a friendship because of his own morals. (this is fine though, his morals was always going to be, in whatever way to keep someone safe)

are we supposed to believe that in 1-2 years that leon just went to therapy or something?

further along in the game, 4R leon is sure, "nicer" to Ashley, but I still feel like it was a means of having her trust him, but also to make the mission go smoother. he can't have ashley freaking out all the time.

one of the consistent things i've said about re as a whole is that the writing is NOT GREAT. a lot of the plots don't go anywhere or don't affect anything majorly. i've argued for a long time, that i feel as though claire's characterization and storyline is so stagnant that it's really a stretch to call her a main character. (her addition to death island was also not important or necessary. if she was removed- nothing would've changed.)

leon's characterization gives me fucking whiplash.

he's either fine or his not fine. and SURE we have REASONS on why he's not fine. but the way that 4R leon had six years to potentially heal from re2r, it seems as though he's only gotten colder. colder so that it makes the whole "he's a hero" trope slip further and further away from him. but that's the thing isn't. it's still a part of his internal conflicts.

he WANTS to save people- so why is he reluctant to save ashley? he's SUPPOSED to want to help people- so why does he not give a shit about Luis? he KNOWS the truth about Ada, so is that why he's still saving her?

all the conflicts in him SURE MAKE SENSE, but the way they steer it in this cold gritty version of him makes sense in instances like vendetta. where after another mission has failed and he is forced to kill his entire unit- it's traumatizing, he wants to be out of it, he wants to be done.

but in 4R, he's forced into it, he does what he can. but is a shell of who he is. SURE, THIS STILL MAKES SENSE.

BUT THEN WHY THE FUCK IS HE FINE IN INFINITE DARKNESS. (this goes with my previous complaints about how he's just FINE in death island, which to be fair, even matt mercer has said essentially, "the power of friendship")

am i supposed to believe that in 6 years, he's been depressed, angry, resentful, and more??? he's still harbouring so much anger that he's fucking rude to everyone- and that in 1-2 years he's just oKAAY

SURE- he gets friendlier within the duration of 4R, and SURE he's polite and respectful when luis passes. and he even gets lured out to save ada when he sees that she's in danger. he's even about to go check on her before the bugs come to attack him >:( but even up to the very end, he's still mostly avoidant to ashley. (which is fair, and im so glad they removed the overtime line) saying, "you don't need me," which is a nice way to tie it back to her gaining some sense of agency. sure she's not taking on any ganados lol but she's come out of this better, stronger, SURE.

but leon? is he really okay? is it just another mission? he's not that excited to get back home, he's not that excited at all for much.

WAY too long; dr

leon was fundamentally changed so much in 4R and i feel as though the game didn't do enough of an arc to make it so that we can bridge the gaps between all the iterations of leon. i understand that he's suffering with ptsd and his own traumas, but his lashing out towards everyone else goes against his own moral principles. he's not a mean or rude person, at least not to people who don't deserve it. i find 4R leon different from his re4 counterpart, yes- but he's so different in ways that make it harder to sympathize with him and his actions.

OR I COULD BE WRONG. I DUNNO. THE WRITING OF RE IS SO POOR THAT SOMEONE COULD PROBABLY SAY IM WRONG AND FIND THINGS TO PROVE IT SJKBFSJKFSKJ

[idledreams4]

Not-so-Happily Every After

Pairing: Jerome x Jeremiah, Jerome x Lila (mentioned)

Warnings: incest (implied), physical and sexual abuse

Words: 2,216

Summary: This fic takes place between season 3 and 4, before Jerome's Arkham breakout. He's speaking to a psychiatrist about the first, and only, person he fell in love with and how he was tragically abandoned.

“So, why don’t you tell me a bit about your childhood Mr. Valeska. We were making such good progress with our last session.” Jerome tilted his head, the doctor’s face was hidden by the shadows. She had a pretty voice though

“Ya’ ever been in love doc?” the pained smile remained painted on his lips, though likely she wouldn’t be able to tell had he stopped. The cuts stretching from cheek to cheek ensured the smile never left his mutilated face. 

“I don’t believe that would be appropriate Jerome.” She wants to come between you Jerome couldn't help but entertain the thought. You know she wouldn’t say that if she didn’t think you meant it about her.

“Flattering, but you’re not my type. You only know half the story as it stands. Sure, the abuse was a big part of it, but it wasn’t all bad.” 

“So who was she?” the question earns a manic giggle from the ginger.

“He was an angel. Albeit one that had fallen from grace.” he chuckled, smirking, thinking back to his dear little brother some 11 years ago 

“Do you want to elaborate on that? What does it mean that he had ‘fallen from grace’?” her pencil tapped absent mindedly against the clipboard in her hands, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.  

"Everyone saw him as a perfect little angel, but I knew the truth… I knew he was no better than me. I won't deny the kid was an angel, but so was the devil before he rebelled." Jerome laughed again, a haunting screech that sent shivers down the doctor's spine.

"And did he reciprocate your feelings?" She pressed on with her questions

"I'm not yer run o' the mill serial killer doc, I don't kill cause I was rejected." 

"So you were then." She went to scribble down some notes, but Jerome interjected.

"No. He loved me too. Just as much as I loved him." 

“If that’s true: where is he now?” He sighed, finally letting his smile slip away into a bitter frown. Why does she care where he is?

“Yer guess is as good as mine, Doc. But just cause I don’t know where he’s holed up these days don’t mean he loved me any less. You want to know what my childhood was like? Fine. But hold yer questions for the end.” The psychiatrist adjusted her papers and nodded, prompting him to continue on to his story

“Hailey’s was no place to raise a kid. It was every man fer himself, unless ya had family. This kid was hopeles. Nothin’ but skin and bones, couldn’t fight fer shit, no way to protect himself. I had to watch out for him cause nobody else was gonna…”

“Well well well, what do we have here?” a group of the Lloyd kids approached the boy

“I think pipsqueak is slacking off again” one of them jeered

“Watcha reading, nerd?” the oldest in the group, easily twice his size, snatched the book from the ginger’s hands. 

“Give it back! That’s from the library!” he protested, quickly getting to his feet. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d trashed one of his books, but he had to return this one. 

“Awww… I think he’s gunna cry” The boys cackled as tears of frustration beaded up on the edges of his eyes. Jerome overheard the cruel laughter and immediately dropped what he was doing. Sure, he’d probably get a beating for leaving work in the middle of it, but he knew it would be worse if he let those boys get away with whatever they were planning to do.

“Give it back, now.” Jerome growled, approaching the gang. His hands were clenched in tight fists, he was ready to throw a punch the second one of them came at him. Some of the boys started to back off, afraid of Jerome’s reputation for finishing fights. The older boy didn’t budge though.

“What are you gonna do gingersnap? You don’t scare me. You’re no stronger than the whiny little know-it-all over there”

“I told you to give the book back. Save yourself a fight.” 

“Big talk for someone I can snap like a twig” he tossed the book aside, prompting the kid to scramble for it and make sure there was no damage. Jerome ended up taking the first swing, but the rest of the details were a blur. Next thing he knew he was sitting on his bed, clutching an ice pack to a bruise on his cheek and hissing as the rubbing alcohol stung his wounds.

“You didn’t have to do that Jer…” he frowned, wrapping a bandage tightly around Jerome’s knee. 

“Of course I did. You know I can't let anything happen to you.” 

“...Or so I thought. That night one of the Lloyd trailers caught fire. Nobody died, but a couple of the kids were hurt pretty badly. They said it was a freak accident, a dropped cigarette butt or something like that. I knew better than that though. It was him. That wasn’t the only incident like that either. Only person who never saw retaliation was my mother, because he knew I’d just get blamed and beaten worse. It's worth mentioning that those so-called “accidents” just happened to stop the minute he left the circus.” 

“You have to do it. I can handle whatever happens after, but you need to get out of here, and the only way that’s going to happen is if she thinks I hurt ya.” Jerome gave the smaller ginger a sympathetic look, wrapping his arm around him to try and comfort him. “Face it, you’re smart. If you go now you can have a good life, and when I see a dorky looking red-head sittin’ in the front row out there in a couple years, I’ll leave with ya. She’s not gonna let you go unless she thinks you're in danger though, you gotta know that.”

“Why can’t we just run away together, Jer? Why can’t we just leave? I don’t want to go anywhere without you. I don’t want to leave you here with her…” He didn’t like the idea any better, but he had to convince him to leave. Neither of them stood a chance if he was stuck here. And the promise of his return would be enough to keep Jerome going in the meantime. 

“You been reading too many books. Look around: does this look like a fairytale to you? People around here don’t get happy endings. I know you don’t wanna go… but it has to be like this. Tell her whatever you have to, just convince her to get you outta this place. Come back once yer done school or whatever and we’ll figure things out then. Ok? If it makes you feel any better, you’ll be my prince charming,” he smirked, placing a tender kiss on the kid’s cheek “Now-” he reached past Miah to grab his book of the nightstand “-why don’t ya finish reading this for me? I wanna know how things turn out for Huck and Jim…”

“He told his mother a bunch of bullshit stories about how I tried to kill him and she bought it. I had Hell to pay but it meant he was out of the circus, with a nice family. And that was enough to get me through the beatings. I never told him, but I always looked up to him. He was smart, creative… It’s why I believed in him for so long. I had to hold on to something to get me through the abuse from Lila”

“Jerome get the FUCK out here. NOW!” Lila’s grating voice bounced off the thin walls of the trailer. Jerome grumbled something incoherent to himself and tossed what was left of his cigarette but out the window.

“I didn’t take whatever it is you misplaced this time” He spat, entering the main room

“Oh yeah? Explain this you little thief” she chucked an empty wallet at him. Jerome simply tossed it back at his mother

“I. Didn’t. Take. Anything. My bet is you probably blew it all on booze and pills and can’t make up the money because nobody around here wants to screw a used up old who-” he’s cut off by Lila slapping him across the face. She promptly shoves him away so he doesn’t get a chance to fight back. There’s an audible thud when his head makes contact with the doorframe

“I give you a damn roof over your head, feed you, keep you clothed, and THIS is how you want to fucking repay me? By stealing from me and INSULTING ME under my own ROOF!? You should be thankful you’re even alive. If it wasn’t for your brother I would have just aborted you and saved myself the trouble.” Jerome heard the door to the trailer slam after she stormed out.

“But it started to get worse”

A bottle flew past Jerome’s head, narrowly missing him and shattering against the wall. The remnants of cheap booze trickled down and soaked into the carpet. 

“get. OUT.” Lila screeched

“I’m not going anywhere. Maybe if you can find something I’ve actually done to get pissed about, I’ll consider it.” She knew he was getting to be stronger than her at this point, but that didn’t seem to bother her. She marched right up to Jerome and pushed him against the wall, the broken glass crunching under their feet

“Oh you definitely took the vodka, but fine, how about everything you did to Jeremiah?” He felt his entire body tense at the accusation. He’d never laid a finger on him, he wouldn’t dare. She grabbed one of the larger pieces of the bottle and held it against Jerome’s throat. “You took him from me!” Jerome shoved her off him, anger building in his eyes. Lila stumbled and fell, cutting her own hand open. Jerome got on top of her, pinning her so she couldn’t do anything

“I never TOUCHED him. It was all LIES. LIES you were too STUPID to see past!” for the first time he saw what looked like fear in his mother’s eyes, which brought him back to reality. He was turning into her… no, he couldn’t have that. He got off her and stormed out of the room, angry he let himself get so caught up. 

“And worse…”

“Can’t you knock?” Jerome looked up at his mother, leaning on his door frame, no doubt drunk

“Who cares… not like I was going to see anything I haven’t b’fore..” Lila was slurring her words far too much for Jerome’s liking. She wasn’t going to remember any of this when she woke up tomorrow afternoon, and that was never good. 

“I’m not dealing with you when you’re like this. Take whatever you want, I don’t even care,”  he got up and tried to leave, more than happy to let her sleep it off in his room if it meant she left him alone. But she stopped him at the door. He knew he could easily take her down in this state but he didn’t want to start the fight

“Where d’you think you're going? I wanted to talk to you Miah…” a pit was forming in his stomach, whatever was happening here he wanted no part of it. Especially if she was calling him by his brother's name

“We can talk when you’re sober…” He tried to push past her but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back

“Come on, lets sit down, we’re only gonna talk…” she pulled him back to his bed “just relax baby…” before Jerome knew what was happening her lips were on his 

“Eventually I lost hope he was ever coming back. It's hard to keep believing in some fairytale once so many lines have been crossed. And once I lost hope in him, I stopped caring. About the abuse, about becoming her, about all of it.” all the confidence had left Jerome's voice at this point. There was an emptiness. He was trying to hide just how much pain these memories brought back. 

“You never mentioned a brother until now. Is that because you feel he abandoned you?” 

“Ya got a better word for what happened? He was supposed to come out to the circus once he had his life together. He was supposed to come find me and take me out of that Hell” he snapped at the doctor

“Maybe he just didn't have things together before-” 

“You don't know him! It would have taken him 10 years tops. And that's how long I waited!” 

“Jerome it wasn't meant to-” 

“Don't pretend like you know him all of a sudden. You don't get to talk about him.” The psychiatrist paused, giving Jerome a moment to calm down 

“I'm sorry to have upset you Mr. Valeska. But there's one other thing I have to ask… the boy you described… that was Jeremiah, wasn't it?” 

“Save me the lecture doc.” Jerome's attitude softened but he was still bitter 

“With everything you've told me I'm not surprised. I'm not here to judge or lecture you. My job is simply to help you. But I'm afraid we're out of time for now. Thank you for being so cooperative Jerome.” 

[makuta-tobi]

bored huh? do the prime numbers then

you think i won't? i will. i'll do it. no readmore cause nothing matters

2. Are you outgoing or shy? mostly shy until i get to know you, then i become a problem

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? no one in particular? i might get to see megatron and/or tahu this summer.....

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? I don't drink but presumably, if she wasn't also drunk

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? i better be

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? mostly indifferent but it depends on how i'm feeling, often times it overstims me

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? to an extent

19. Do you like bubble baths? they're fine, but kinda boring i think

23. Do you have trust issues? not really? well, actually, maybe. feels like people are lying because there's no real effort to be engaging with me most the time but i'm always told "no we love to spend time with you" so yeah i guess

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? uhhh, i don't remember? probably not

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? i literally just cut it this morning, hair in the back is like 3/8" or something

37. What do you say during awkward silences? I don't, i usually just start swishing or kicking my feet and balling up my shirt

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? usually, but it depends on what they did, some things are beyond redemption. as a general rule, though, yeah

43. Do you smile at strangers? only if we accidentally make eye contact and they do it first, I'll mirror back

47. Have you ever been high? not afaik

51. Ever wished you were someone else? every day. like a specific person? i can't think of any individuals, but generally speaking? yeah

53. Favourite makeup brand? i don't really engage with it, so whatever is cheap and does what i need it for

57. Favourite food? teriyaki chicken and borger

59. First thing you ate this morning? s'mores cereal

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? nope, only major trouble I got into in school was in 8th grade when someone farted on the bus and i targeted by the driver for unrelated shit

67. Facebook or Twitter? lesser of two evils, personally, i'm picking facebook

71. Craving something? What? still thinking about how good a milkshake and/or iced coffee would hit right now

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? depends. normal nights there is at least 1 in the bed, but it's not mine, it's brandee's, and she cuddles with it. when i'm by myself on those rare occasions, then usually i do

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? black with a knockoff white riamu with neon green skeleton on her shirt

81. Favourite tv show? uhhhh loaded question, i'll go a safe route and say kamen rider

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? never seen mg2 so the original ig

87. First person you talked to today? brandee? no wait okay i opened discord, the first person i directly addressed today was jules the french person in a server i'm in

89. Name a person you hate? ohhhh that's also loaded, and most of the people I directly hate are dead right now, so for my sake i guess I'll say Jay Patton yes i'm putting the full name

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? see above I guess?

97. Favourite actor? oof, there are too many to recount currently

101. Do you type fast? maybe a little, certainly not as fast as i used to. i used to be a member of a clan on xat that focused on speed fighting to defeat our enemies and i had to train hard to get to that point

103. Can you spell well? as well as any other person I guess, i'm not bad at it

107. Have you ever been on a horse? a few times

109. Is something irritating you right now i have a headache that has persisted for several hours, and I'm just frustrated by being alone with nothing good to do while i hear brandee button mash and laugh with her friends in the other room

113. What was your childhood nickname? i can't really recall any that weren't just people mispronouncing my name, which is all too common, but i gave myself the name tobi in 8th grade and that has stuck

127. What makes you happy? good stuff? what makes anyone happy yk

129. What your zodiac sign? karkat piseces

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? in this moment, feel a bit flustered and say awww thanks but try to move through life as normal

137. How tall are you? 5'6"

139. Brunette or Blonde? no preference

149. Do you believe in ghosts? to an extent, not entirely certain how they manifest but there's...something

you can ask other questions if you want

[buddiebeginz]

I been trying to put into words some feelings I been having over the new ep and fandoms reaction. And look this is just me venting so please don’t sent hate.

First and foremost I can’t begin to tell you as someone who is bi how important this storyline and that ep with Buck is. How important them making Buck canonically bi is. There was a part of me that thought they’re not gonna do it but they did. My journey hasn’t been the same as Buck but in some ways I figured stuff out about my sexuality later in life too. When I was a kid I knew something was different but ultimately thought I was straight, and then as an older teen I came out as a gay, and only in my 30s did I realize I was bi. Not the same exactly as Buck or of other people who don’t realize or can’t except that part of themselves at all until later in life but still a journey. And I think it's so important for everyone lgbtq and straight to see that sexuality isn't this rigid box it's a part of us that can grow and change as we do.

I feel very personally connected to Buck and his storyline so I’m not trying to hate on it or him. And no matter who that kiss was with I’m glad Buck wanted it and he was happy and it awakened parts of him he’s likely not wanted to face or known how to face before now.

I also know Buck being bi exists separately from Buddie and is incredibly important whether Buddie were to happen or not. I have tremendous faith Buddie is going to happen eventually especially with how the storyline has been going and how the actors and Tim have talked about it. I also know Tommy isn’t sticking around. I guess I’m just missing our boys together. That episode was tough to watch in some ways because Buck felt like he couldn’t get Eddie’s attention (which is to be clear whose attention he actually wanted) and so right now we’re seeing the guys a bit disjointed which will continue it seems for some of the next ep.

Plus I’ve been seeing Buck/Tommy all over my dash and everywhere else online and it’s like again I get why I’m not telling anyone not to be excited over this ep. I am too.

I think part of it is I’m not a multishipper. Buddie is one of my favorite ships ever and I don’t like thinking of them with anyone else. I think it’s possible to be excited and happy about Buck coming out and about 911 finally doing this storyline while also wishing the guy he was kissing was Eddie. Again I know Buddie has to take time to happen it’s a slow burn and all that but we’ve also waited years.

It’s hard watching people love how Tommy kisses Buck or calls him Evan (which tbh I hate) or wondering what their ship name is. I've even seen people say they want Tommy to stay for awhile and some have even said they don't care if Buddie even happens now. I’m also starting to see Tommy/Buck fics clutter up the Buddie tag on ao3. People are even making gifsets comparing Buddie and Buck and Tommy basically saying Tommy treats Buck better.

I know the ep just aired and I know everyone is just enjoying how momentous this is and celebrating that it’s finally canon what we saw in Buck all along, still it feels like some people are already forgetting about Buddie.

And I know it's better that Buck has his first queer experience with someone else and gets to know himself better before Buddie happens officially. I know neither he or Eddie are ready for their relationship to move into that space just yet. I just love them and want to see them together finally. I don't want to see people forget about the amazing relationship we've watched grow over six years because whatever Tommy and Buck will share it won't compare to that. Eddie is Buck’s person and vice versa and I can’t wait for the day these two idiots figure that out.

[daz4i]

ok now i'm gonna be emotional under the cut probably (mentions of suicide but it's not negative. just verbalizing thoughts i had throughout today 🤔)

so many ppl sent me messages today, many in my family sent me direct ones which is rare too - most of them just send it in the groupchats - so they put in the extra effort to make it more personal and less like they're just going with everyone else

and like right on midnight i immediately got beautiful messages from 3 of my besties, and ofc lots of birthdays wishes from mutuals and friends on a discord sever, so many people putting in effort and so fast too. my niece and nephew made drawings especially for me and my niece insisted on cutting paper in half so she could draw even more things and they made me a goodie bag with little gifts and such too. like even the kids put in a lot of effort

but what really gets me is multiple people telling me they're glad i'm alive and they hope to celebrate more birthdays with me, and people in my family wishing for me to have a better future specifically, and people saying they love me and-

it feels very surreal. dgmw i am very touched. as a person who, well, is not the biggest fan of life, and very much did not plan to get to the age of 25, it feels. weird.

birthdays are always a hard time because of that ajdkflglh ever since i was a teen really, i always become even more suicidal on the days leading up to it, like some sense of "i won't reach [age]. i can't. i shouldn't" and as you can tell it did not go further than that lol. i think i end up crying or having a major breakdown p much on every birthday, up until maybe the last 2 (as in, 24 and 25) bc it always feels like i lost, failed in achieving my ultimate goal

and. i guess. seeing this much love, that i didn't expect but i know is there even when it's not verbally expressed. makes it feel less like losing? i can't name what it does feel like - i'm not well versed in positive emotions lol - but it's not negative that's for sure. except maybe it starts being distressing bc i don't understand it :P but that's a me issue hehe.

and. i don't want to live for other people. i have gone past the point of "mom would be sad" years ago. which i think is why it feels so weird. bc it does feel nice, to know people are happy that i'm alive, and that they genuinely want me to be happy, even when i don't

even when I'm thinking "god i'm already this old and haven't achieved anything in my entire life". these people don't care about that. that's why they wish for a better future. what i achieved, to them, is being a kind person i think

idk how to finish this ajdkflg like i said i'm just putting thoughts in words. and crying bc now my bday is over so i can do it without feeling like i failed at some unspoken goal. i always say i'm not good at love, and that goes for being loved too, i feel like a deer in the headlights lol 😭 but it's okay. idk if i'll ever get used to it or learn how to actually accept it rather than just pretend i do, but maybe i don't need to know?

[grace-nakimura]

title: time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it rating: pg-13 for mentions of sexual situations and some light disturbing imagery. pairing: grace nakimura/gabirel knight. also brief mentions of malia gedde/gabriel knight and fredrich von glower/gabriel knight. trigger warning: pregnancy mention. slight sexual situations. disturbing imagery. threat of harm to a child (but thwarted). mental health issues. not beta'd bc it's against my gremlin religion, but can you guess how tswift inspired this? bc she totally did. summary: gabriel's point of view from whoops, in which he buries ghosts, admits that he does have feelings (just no brain cells!), and somehow doesn't run from fatherhood kicking and screaming. (jane jensen i am looking at you GIVE US A BONE TELL ACTIVISION TO GIVE US SOMETHING!)

Time moved slowly. Not for anyone else, but for him it did.  

Seasons came and went, but there he stood, the last Schattenjager, holding down Schloss Ritter like a soldier overrun in battle who didn’t know how to surrender.  

It seemed everyone had a life. They were all making moves, growing, and changing while he still felt stagnant.  

Gerde had gotten married. He didn’t attend the service, didn’t think he could stomach it, but he sent the bride and groom a generous gift of money and beer. Seeing as how Gerde, like most German’s, didn’t trust Gabriel, an American, when it came to beer, she sent it back with a thank you note.  

Mosely was even seeing someone—he didn’t know if he should tell them a good job or that poor woman, so he decided on both when he got the news, only to be hung up on—too. A widower with two sons for the past five months or so. “Still too early to be thinkin’ ‘bout this an’ all, but” Moseley had said over the phone, relaxing at the station in New Orleans while Gabriel nursed his Tennessee Whiskey near his typewriter. “Hell, Knight. Can you imagine me being a dad? Hell, I’m hardly a good enough uncle to my sister’s kids.” 

He could, actually; one of those picket fence type of fathers who wore a fanny-pack with snacks, always complaining about the thermostat, and grilled burgers and hot dogs on Sunday evenings. The sort that Gabriel used to dream about when he was a kid. Like hell he’d ever admit it, though, so instead he went with, “at least they won’t get your looks.”  

“Ass.” 

“Still got a better one than you, Mostly.” 

And he stayed still, all alone in Schloss Ritter, surrounded by mountains and trees, more of a ghost most days than a person. 

Gran was another one he worried about. Her mind was sharper than a whip, but her body began to fall behind, little by little. Pretty soon she wouldn’t be able to live by herself, something she took so much pride in, and when he had to tell her that the hitch in her breath broke his heart. 

“We all grow old sometime, Gabriel,” she had told him over the phone, keeping good cheer and forcing a smile that never met her eyes. He knew that smile. That was his girl. His world. He hated ever being the reason for her to have that look.  

“You ain’t ever getting' old, Gran,” he said, in an attempt of levity. “Besides, ain’t for a while, yet. It’s just something we gotta look after. I’ll be by to visit you soon. Got so many stories to tell you about Granddaddy’s family.”  

He also missed her more than anything.  

She had laughed and if he could imagine it, he would be able to see how her eyes would roll heavenward good-naturedly, but at least her eyes were smiling along with her mouth this time. “I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart.” And then, as always, “I love you, dear. Take care.” 

When he wasn’t being a Schattenjager, or a writer with the largest bout of writer’s block known to man, he would lay on his back spread eagle and stare at the ceiling in his study. Sometimes he would think of Grace. 

Depending on how sober he was, or how lonely, he mostly just thought of the things he wanted to tell her. Whenever he had a new idea for a book, or a breakthrough on a case, or just a thought in general, his first instinct always was, I’ve gotta tell Gracie. Only to remember, oh, she was on another continent. Unreachable. Gone. 

When he was really, really drunk, he would think of that night. If it was only once, they would both brush it off as adrenaline, but they slept with each other more than once. No matter what he’d tell anyone in the light of day, once wasn’t enough that night, and considering his back was covered with the markings of her nails the next morning, it was the same for her. 

 Three whole times that night.  

He was thirty-five. While there wasn’t much thinking involved, he had to admit that he was damn impressed with his stamina. Mostly with Grace, who was every bit of the firecracker he had imagined. She was all fire and consumed every inch of him that, if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he was being possessed. 

Morning had come, as it always would, and everything changed. 

Now she was miles away with only a note. He didn’t remember what it said, didn’t bother keeping it when he crumbled it up, but he got the jest: she outgrew him, she needed more, and wished him the best.  

He could focus on how angry, how hurt, he had been, but what really haunted him was how hurt she looked that morning. 

“Ass,” he said to the ether, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

“You do have a good one,” a silky voice spoke. When he turned around, Malia sat—or an apparition, or just his mind playing tricks on him, or both—on the sofa in his study, legs crossed, looking every bit the same she did when he first saw her. Ebony curls framed her face, and those deep brown that held flecks of gold made her eyes almost seem ethereal. “That was my first thought when I saw you with the Detective—damn, that man has a nice ass.”  

A chuckle bubbled from Gabriel, his eyes growing misty, even if he didn’t want them to. Didn’t deserve to cry over her. He sat up but remained where he was. He didn’t dare stand. He also didn’t dare to walk over to her. He wanted to keep Malia Gedde, forever thirty-something, forever lovely, in his mind as she was.  

“I wish I could’ve saved you,” he hated to make that bright smile falter, but he needed her to know that. She was the first woman he’d ever could imagine a future with. They had known each other for a handful of days, sure, but his parents were a whirlwind romance, too. That future went to ash just when she did. “I always save you when I dream.”  

It was her who moved off the sofa, who sat by him, this phantom of Malia Gedde, the first woman he ever loved, and cupped his face with both of her hands so he could look at her. “You did, Gabriel,” a ghost of a kiss was pressed on his lips, “I didn’t have much of a life before you; I was Lazarus, and you gave me life. Now let me return the favor.” She rubbed her nose against his, and his eyes fell shut as did hers, willing time to continue to slow for this moment. “Live.” 

“Ain’t that what I’m doin’?” He sounded petulant, which made her huff out a laugh, but he kept on. “Might have a great ass, but not exactly a great person to be around.” 

She pressed her lips against his forehead, almost an atonement, almost a benediction. “Fight a little while longer, Mr. Knight,” her lips moved against his forehead, and he was brought back to the few nights in his room at the bookshop, entwined together as his hands roamed up and down her dark skin, entwining in those ebony curls of hers as she straddled his lap at a furious pace.  

After, she always placed a kiss on his forehead, once the two came down from their heights and settled back on earth.  

“I’ll always be with you, my love.” 

He woke up, back acting up something awful for sleeping on the floor, still feeling the lips against his forehead.  

*** 

Gran fell in her kitchen one Saturday afternoon. It took him no time at all to book the quickest flight to New Orleans, and within the handful of hours from Munich to the states, he onboarded the plane from Louis Armstrong International and took the first Taxi he saw to the hospital.  

“It was just a little fall,” Gran had soothed him as he sat by her bed, holding her smaller, wrinkled hand in his. “Got a few bruises, is all. I’m fine.”  

For all the times she’d narrow her eyes to his bold-faced lies, he returned the favor, placing a kiss on that hand of hers reverently. “This time it’s a few bruises, Gran. What about the next?”  

His life was already full of shadows. The day Rebecca Knight would go gently into that good night, and he knew she would, all that was warm and bright would go with her. She had raised him. Loved him. Accepted him with open arms. He knew she had reservations on how he lived his life, mostly out of coming from a different time when most men his age were married, settled, with scours of little ones, but she never made a fuss. She always listened to him and encouraged him to follow his heart.  

“We’ll pick out someone to come and see you regularly,” Gabriel began before she could say anything else, “someone that you like. Don’t worry ‘bout the cost; nothin’ but the best for my girl.”  

She snorted, shaking her head as she lay on the hospital bed, smiling up at him as if he were nine and told her of his day, mostly about making mischief with Mosely. He had always left out the things that would get him in big trouble, though, but he figured she knew of them all the same. “And what about you, dear?” 

“What about me?” 

That smile turned sad, and the hand he had been holding snuck out of his grasp to run his hands through his unruly strawberry-blond hair. The red came from his mama, just like his eyes; the rest came from his daddy. Gran always said that his daddy lived on in his smile. “I know you’re a grown man, but sometimes I look at you, and I still see that little boy.” Gran looked wistful. “You’re lonely, aren’t you?” 

He made a face, but she ignored him. She knew his tells more than anyone else. “It’s your life, you know, I just... I just know how long life can be, if you’re lucky, but also how lonely it could be with no one, if you’re unlucky.” 

A thought came to him, “were you lonely, Gran?”  

She shook her head, swallowing hard, “never, not when I had you, even miles away from you—not lonely. Never lonely. I only want you to feel like that someday. Whole.” 

***  

He stayed for a week, or maybe edging on for a week and a half, meeting client after client. She eventually decided on a redhead who was studying for her Nursing degree at Tulane. The girl looked younger than she probably was, proudly showing her engagement ring to Gran who cooed and tittered, and that was that. Her name was Rose. Cute kid, bit of an old soul, and out of the fifty candidates she was the only one to make his Gran laugh so hard her whole-body shook.  

“Call me when you can, dear,” she had told him and given him one of those bone crushing hugs that he’d missed more than he’d like to admit. He even returned it, causing her to chuckle. “Also, tell that Grace to call, too. I’ve missed her stories.” 

If she noticed how his body went frigid at the mention of Grace, she said nothing, but with leaving a kiss on her rouge covered cheek he got his things and left. Not after telling her, he loved her, and that he would call as soon as he could.  

He even met with Mosely. Met his girlfriend, Daniella, and immediately gave her condolences. Her boys were with her late husband’s parents for the weekend, but he promised to return soon to meet them, too.  

Her oldest, Antonio, was a fan of his books, even though he was only fourteen years old. Hadn’t he read Dracula at eleven? He couldn’t judge.  

He left New Orleans feeling a little lighter, anyway.  

It just made returning to Rittersberg bearable, knowing he did right by at least one person in his life.  

Imagine his surprise when he saw Gerde’s car where it usually was. Imagine his surprise when he went into the ancestral castle to hear two voices, female, whispering over a roaring fire.  

The blonde with the curls was Gerde. Bright eyed and happier than she had been in some time, making peace with his Uncle Wolfgang’s death, while moving on with her life with the sort of uncanny humility and grace many of those who had plenty of years on her would never be able to do. The sort of resilience many never write stories about, or wax poetic about, or even consider to be a strength, when it was the utmost example of true strength that a human being could possess.  

“— if I were you, I would focus on telling Gabriel—,” 

That caught his attention, and suddenly he made his presence known, “Tellin’ me what?” 

It was then he noticed the woman Gerde was speaking to. Almost hard to, since it’s been months since he had seen her. Every time he thought about her, he thought of that face she made when he dismissed her, how it was the first time he ever made her face crumble like a house of cards that he knew of, and it was a lance to his heart every time he imagined it. She began to cough, Gerde patting her back encouragingly, and once she waved the blonde woman off Gabriel noticed how quickly she scurried out of the room, leaving a cup of cocoa behind.  

“Grace?” This wasn’t an apparition, right? Gerde was talking to her, who wasn’t in his mind since she had bumped into me in her attempt to leave—quickly—and even avoiding eye contact while doing so. She stood up slowly, pushing herself as if she were a guilty child, being prepared for the scolding of a lifetime, and slowly turned around. 

Her hair had gotten longer. He liked it. It fell in a loose brain that she wore on the side, her dark bangs wispy, always said she liked them because it covered her large forehead. She looked fuller, skin aglow from the firelight, and the first thought was, hell, why did I never notice how beautiful she was? Oh, she was attractive, but beautiful?  

It almost took his breath away.  

When he noticed how she absent-mindedly rubbed her stomach—her rather round stomach, and not a product of eating well but something else—his breath did leave him.  

“Hi, Gabe.” 

She sounded younger. Five years his junior, sure, but now she just sounded so...small. She, who always seemed like a giant by way of her personality, suddenly didn’t seem so big anymore.  

It killed him. 

He made his way in front of her and there they stood, illuminated by the flames in the fireplace, no more than five feet apart and looked everywhere but each other.  

It sounded like the worst thing to ever ask, and he knew he had no right to ask, “is it mine?” It didn’t matter the answer. He’d offer her all he could no matter what. She nodded, and he felt his stomach drop. Shit. “Right. Well, damn, Gracie. You keepin’ it?”  

Not his business. Right, but the question slipped out none the less.  

“Her,” and despite himself, his breath catches. Her. A girl. A little girl that, if Grace never made her way back to Rittersberg, he’d never know about. “I wanted to tell you in person. I, um, I don’t want anything, or I don’t want to make you do anything...” 

He nodded. He kept nodding with every word she said like an idiot. “No, no, I get it,” but there she was giving him that look, “I do.” And then, because this was so much—he's going to be a daddy to a little girl that has been living for, what, six months, without his knowledge. He and Grace had made a little girl that night. He, a fatherless child, was going to be a father! —he blurted out, “well, um, your room is still yours. Nice to see you, Grace.”  

He stumbled as he ran up the winding stairs, doing his best to ignore the sound of Grace’s sobbing.  

*** 

“If you had chosen me,” a heavily accented voice told him in his ear, a firm hand placed on his shoulder almost gently, “you would’ve never been in this predicament.”  

“And more lives lost than saved,” he told the phantom, shrugging off Fredrich’s hand as if it burnt him. More ghosts in the night, always hovering near him, and his bare feet made their way toward his window. A full moon. Sometimes if he imagined it hard enough, he would hear wolves howling.  

He never missed how his heart clenched at the memory.  

“Do you hate me that much, Gabriel, that you can’t even look at me?” 

It’s because I don’t hate you that I can’t, he thought with a grimace, swallowing. “I told you to go before.” He hated how his voice broke.  

Ever so dominant, full of confidence that Gabriel only played pretend at, he moved to where Gabriel had to face him anyway. He looked just like he did on the night he spent at his estate, sitting across from him, drinking and laughing together, being pulled in with those rich brown eyes. Christ. He had a type. “We would have made such beautiful memories, my friend,” his thumb traced Gabriel’s bottom lip, causing the man to open his mouth without thinking.  

He never thought about men before. After, he only ever thought of one. Then Fredrich spoke, and the spell ended. “I only wished that you chose me.” 

And since this had to be all in his head, he had a chance to be honest, “if only you wanted me as I was,” Gabriel replied. “I wanted you as you were.”  

Or, well, maybe somewhat honest. Did he want him as he really was, or who he was presented as?  

All Gabriel knew was that he wanted him. All he knew was that much like Malia, if things had been different, there could’ve been a future.  

The smile the baron made was rueful, catching the uncertainty of his last statement, but instead of when he haunted him before his brown eyes weren’t so hard. “Sad, isn’t it? You kill me so you can live,” Gabriel’s heart clenched painfully, “but you are hardly living. Not even for your little one, growing in the belly of your assistant in a room not too far from you—do you hear how she cries, Gabriel? How scared she is while you hide in your room?” 

He said nothing.  

Still, the man went on, “do you know how lucky you are to be given such a gift? If I had a chance to experience a family, a family of my own choosing without being chained to what is considered traditional, I would’ve taken it without thought.” Regardless of his words earlier, Gabriel heard nothing but raw honesty. “Fought and killed for it with all my power.” 

“Kill me or kiss me,” because he was at the end of his rope. Fredrich von Glower was dead and gone and he didn’t need to think of some fantasy where he and Grace and the black fucking wolf played house. It hurt enough to have him here when it wasn’t really him. “Just shut the hell up.” 

Funny how the first kiss, their first kiss, would be in his head. All teeth and aggression, mixed with a pining he had never known. Fredrich von Glower had seduced him, who usually was the one who seduced, flawlessly, and even in death he had him in his web. Never slept with the man, but God, if he were alive, if he were here right now— 

Air. There was nothing but air when he came too, leaning against the cold window of his room, breathing harshly.  

*** 

Talking with Grace was...something. He couldn’t avoid it, push it under the rug, because the evidence of what they both did grew and grew little by little. She waddled about, rubbing her lower back herself, sporting mostly maternity overalls over a sweater because, even if she was raised in New York, New Orleans spoiled me with its heat. It’s too damn cold here, Knight. He’d almost grown fond of hearing the shuffling of her house shoes because, well, only white people walk around in a home with their shoes on, ass.  

“That baby in there is half-white, you know,” the cheek came so easy, like coming home in some ways.  

Grace gave as good as she got, “oh, I know. It’s why the only spices I’ve been able to handle are salt and pepper.” 

He laughed. Oh, how he laughed, and oh how he missed her. The best thing about it? She laughed, too, and he missed that even more.  

She wasn’t a ghost. She was there, in front of him, her eyes darker than Fredrich’s and Malia’s combined, but they twinkled like tiny diamonds whenever she laughed. No glasses, still, only contacts. Too much maintenance, she had told him when he had asked about the change.  

He went with her to Munich to on check-ups, peering at a blurry, black and white blob on the screen as the baby’s heartbeat filled the room; couldn’t really tell that there was a baby, besides the heartbeat and Grace’s expanded stomach, but something made his heart skip, nonetheless. “You guys sure it’s gonna be a girl?” Hell, its technology, after all. It wasn’t perfect.  

“Ja, Herr Knight,” the assistant replied with a laugh, “see here?” She pointed with the hand that wasn’t controlling the wand on Grace’s stomach and he leaned over to take a closer look, “that is just an arm, and there is a leg, and—oh, it looks like she’s tired of us looking! She’s turning around.” 

“I don’t blame her,” Grace said, and Gabriel didn’t miss the note of fondness in her voice.  

Blood work was fine. The scans were fine. Everything was fine, but something began to claw at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.  

After the appointment—to which she needed to pee as soon as she was dressed—they ate at McDonalds. It was cheap, near the clinic, and it had a restroom.  

It seemed most of what Grace did was pee.  

They ordered an extra pair of fries to go on the way back to Schloss Ritter, and when she wasn’t stuffing her face with fries—he was able to steal a few with only a glare that had no heat to it when caught—they made small talk. Safe topics. “I need to ask you something. Don’t be mad, okay?” 

Well, mostly safe topics.  

“Shoot,” he turned right, keeping his eyes on the road. He missed his bike, drove better on it, but when he suggested he could install a little seat beside him as he drove since she couldn’t exactly straddle a bike anymore, the groan she made sounded like she was being tortured.  

“Are we having a Whoops, or just a black-and-white blob?” 

He barked out a laugh. She laughed, too, and suddenly they both physically could not stop laughing. “I thought it was only me!” She shook her head and when she snorted, she quickly covered her mouth. “Maybe that can be another name for her? Gabrielle Whoops Heartburn Blob. Nobles always have more than one name.” 

Settling just a bit, she shook her head, before suddenly her face fell. “I have to pee again.”  

Of course. 

Like always, as soon as they entered the castle, he went up to his study to check his messages while he heard Grace flush the toilet in the distance.  

That itch came back tenfold when Scotland Yard contacted him.  

*** 

It hit too fucking close to home.  

A little girl had been kidnapped. Some occult group not unlike the old lady he met months ago, were said to have been kidnapping people in the Highlands for years. Scotland Yard was called when the child taken was the only daughter of Prime Minister hopeful.  

The mother was beside herself, of course. Face gaunt with circles under her eyes. Devastated.  

The father? The father appeared disinterested. Put out. As if this was all a waste of time. He was normally shit at reading people, but after all he’d been through, and maybe it was just paranoia, something at the back of his head sent out a warning. Could be something, could be nothing; he could be involved, or he could be a righteous prick that didn’t deserve to be a father, less a politician. 

And you deserve to be one? a voice asked.  

No, he said, but that doesn’t stop me from being one in a few months.  

The mother, Wendy, was a frail thing, only a little older than he was, and said they had two older boys. James, Rory, and their little girl, Abigail. If things were different, he’d save the name as a possibility for Grace. He’d always liked that name, come to think about it. His first-grade teacher’s name was Abigial Lewis and she had great, big— 

Maybe not Abigail, then.  

He brought along a laptop. A compromise so when Grace was back in Germany, safe in Schloss Ritter with Gerde, he would contact her through SIDNEY, and she him.  

That first time was quiet. He didn’t dawdle to get a feel of the scene like he usually did. Not even when Prince James’ son was missing did he ever feel this much anxiety. A little girl, only four, her survival depended all on him.  

That could be my little girl, was what kept him going.  

That night he was in a Cathedral. Everyone was dressed in black. His parents were there, just as he remembered them, staring ahead. Gran and Grandaddy were there, too, and so was Wolfgang beside them. In front of him at the end of the aisle was a closed casket. 

Go, someone urged him, and he listened.  

His boots were the only thing he would be able to hear as he made his way toward the closed casket. Something told him to open it. Something urged him to, so he listened, but instead of a corpse that rested inside the coffin was a very much alive, with bright eyes and a gummy grin, infant looking up at him. 

He knew who she was. 

A shy grin broke out on his face, and he stared, just stared at her, flailing her fists and making sounds just because she could. She wore a white dress, the sort people dressed their babies for baptisms, that bunched up when those tiny hands of hers fisted the fabric. “What’cha’ doin’ there, sweetheart?” 

He bent down to pick her up, holding her where her chubby cheek was near his stubbled one, swaying from side to side. In this serenity, this sense of peace he hadn’t felt in so long, he had almost forgotten that he shouldn’t be so at ease holding a baby since he hadn’t held many. And yet, it didn’t matter; her tiny hands on his face, those eyes of hers staring at him like he’s the real wonder and not her, or that dimpled, gummy grin that made his heart flutter in his chest were the only thing in the universe he cared about.  

“Hey,” he whispered, bouncing her like he had seen Mosely bounce his nieces when they were babies.  

If something was too good to be true, it usually was.  

The scene shifted. Instead of his arms, the infant lay on her back on slab, and a man in a dark rob was behind her, holding a knife in the air dramatically.  

“Don’t you fucking—” 

He lowered the knife and Gabriel plunged at the figure, only for Gabriel to jolt himself awake, drenched in sweat.  

It was late, he knew that, but he had to know—had to! Grace picked up, voice hoarse with disuse, “this is Grace.” 

“Hey, Gracie.” 

“Gabe?” Her voice more alert, and by the rustling in the background he could imagine her sitting up in bed, “Are you alright?” 

He said nothing. He was still trembling. She gave him a moment, only a moment, before, “What’s wrong?” 

“Is Whoops okay?”  

They really needed to call her something other than Whoops.  

A soft exhale, before, “yes, she’s fine. My ribs and bladder aren’t, though.” 

That made him laugh. It was weak, but still a laugh. “Good.” And then, “Are you?” 

“Besides my bladder and ribs? I’m fine.” There was a pause, a comfortable pause of two people enjoying each other’s company, even if they were miles away. “Go to bed. You need your rest.” 

He didn’t. Couldn’t.  

No jokes were had, no flirtations, but an earnest need to find out what was happening. Besides Wendy’s kindness, the emails and calls he received from Grace either about the case or Whoops, he’d discovered allies in the very beings he was sent to investigate. White Witches, at that.  

“Not every being you hunt deserves to be hunted, shadow hunter,” one had told him, not unkindly. “Men are different, so are we.” 

And humans are usually the worst kinds of monsters alive, Grace had told him once.  

Four days of nightmares. Four days of playing cat-and-mouse, toying with his psyche about his looming fatherhood as if it knew, whatever it was, only to find out the Witch they were looking for all along had been the girl’s father. Just like his dream, only besides his own little girl, the brown haired and blue eyed four-year-old lay bound on the stone alter, while her father, clad in a black coat, spoke an incantation—a summoning spell—but before he raised the blade to complete it, Gabriel had knocked him out cold.  

He thought turning into a werewolf brought out his aggression; this was much worse. All he had seen was red.  

He would’ve killed that man. That portly man who spent the four days on his black cell, checking his pager boredly, and looking down his nose at him whenever he tried to pick his brain in an effort to help. Hell, he’d even broach the comment about being a father himself, even if his own daughter wasn’t yet born, and all he got was a look of boredom.  

Sobbing broke him from his trance.  

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he did his best to soothe the little girl, who still wore her clothes form when she was abducted, and untied her to draw her in his arms. She stank. Her clothes were soiled, too, but he didn’t mind. He picked up the small girl in his arms and began to leave the ruined and abandoned home. “You’re gonna be just fine, alright? Just close your eyes and hang on real tight.” 

Wendy, who had been nothing but lovely and helpful, was found dead with her throat slit in her hotel room. Scotland Yard was called, arrests were made, and that little girl who clung to him so tightly when the ambulance rolled up was sent to her grandparents, along with her two older brothers. Nice kids. A hefty age gape since the eldest, James, looked to be around sixteen, while Rory couldn’t have been no more than twelve. After he spoke to Grace on the phone about what happened, all of it, he spent the rest of the time with little Abby.  

If he didn’t already have one on the way, well, he would’ve entertained the brief thought of being a father. Regardless of the horrors she saw, she smiled, told jokes, and spoke to him about all the stuffed animals she had at home. In turn, he’d tell her about his bike, his Gran, and the doofus of a friend he had named Mosely. Apparently making fun of his lack of hair was a winner, because it sent her to a giggle frenzy.  

“Is mummy alright, Misser Knight?”  

He just smiled and said nothing, opting to turn her attention back to her stuffed animals. Not his place to tell her, anyway.  

Turned out, little Abby was what the prick needed to ensure he’d become England’s next Prime Minister. A deal with a demon years ago; his firstborn daughter for all the power he could wield.  

He should’ve killed him.  

He didn’t.  

He didn’t leave Abby or her brothers until she was discharged from the hospital. Her grandparents, Wendy’s parents, were just as lovely as their daughter had been. The English were said to be stand-off-ish with affection, but all he received were hugs of gratitude and pats on the back.  

“We’ll never be able to repay you,” the grandfather, Phillip, which made his heart skip a beat, told him in earnest.  

“Just make sure those kids are fine, and we’ll be square,” he had answered. 

When he got back to the hotel, all the bravery he had vanished.  

*** 

Schloss Ritter was subdued. He didn’t really eat, only when his stomach began to churn and ache and his blood sugar would drop low, and he certainly didn’t shower. When he slept, he would dream of nothing but gore.  

He saved little Abby.  

He didn’t save her mother. 

Just like he didn’t save Fredrich, or Malia, or Wolfgang.  

“My death isn’t your fault, Gabriel.”  

In the corner of his eye, as he sat in the corner with his knees to his chest, he saw the kind face of his great-uncle. The same long, dark overcoat with his hair in a low ponytail. 

“I lost a son,” he admitted, walking toward him languidly, before dropping to his knees. Considering it was his head and nothing more, he didn’t wince as he bent down. “A parent should never have to bury their child.” 

Why are you telling me this?  

He knew why, though.  

He lost his parents when he was young. Left a hole in his heart so big that he tried to fill it with faceless conquests. There wasn’t a guarantee that he’d live long enough to see Whoops reach ten, or twenty, or thirty. There wasn’t even a guarantee that Grace wouldn’t come to her senses and leave him as soon as the baby was born, and he’d never get a chance to see if he would. He wouldn’t blame her. His life wasn’t exactly safe. Hell, even before, his life wasn’t exactly ideal, because he wasn’t exactly ideal.  

The fear that gripped him, though, that made him crawl to the furthest corner of his study, was the possibility of having to outlive his child. 

That...that made it hard to breathe. Hard to think. He thought the prospect of losing his Gran was terrifying, but Whoops? Unthinkable.  

“You love her, don’t you?” Wolfgang asked. 

“She ain’t even here and it hurts,” he responded. 

“You love her mother, too, yes?”  

He hitched a breath, his heart stammering, but it was with perfect clarity he answered, “yes.”  

Grace wasn’t his first love. Grace wasn’t the love that awoke something inside him that he never knew existed. Grace was the sort of love that one might overlook, mostly because they weren’t ready to see it for what it really was, and for the few that would double back to take a closer look at what they missed, they would find something no words could name. The sort of love that pulled the rug from under you and screamed, got ya! For all the flirting, all the banter, all the tension he never expected Grace. Never expected the conservatively dressed college student who was overqualified for the position that waltzed into St. George’s to apply for a job to be the mother of his child. 

And he didn’t love her because of Whoops, either; resting his head against the cool stone of the castle, he thought back—really thought back—to the small moments. It was after Fredrich and Malia, of course, the two living together at Schloss Ritter and going through the motions. How he would always want to talk to her about the first ridiculous thought he had, and this time out of genuine want and not a need to pester her, to just hear her opinions on anything and everything. 

It crept up on him and, when it finally clicked that he might feel something, she left.  

“She returned,” Wolfgang reminded him, as if he could read his thoughts.  

“’Cause I knocked her up,” Gabriel groused petulantly. “Not for me.”  

He made a tsking noise, shaking his head disapprovingly, “my boy, for one so smart, you see so little.” 

*** 

It turned out he’d been blind for a bit. He normally hated to be wrong, because he did like to think he had some smarts under his belt, but this time? This time it was fine. More than fine. This time when Grace was in his bed, not a stitch on her body or his, he knew there would be no awkward deflections in the morning.  

She loved him.  

Not just because of the baby, but because of him.  

And he had yet to tell her how he felt. Words were caught in his throat whenever he attempted, so he did his best to show her. Oh, there was still the cheeky banter; sarcasm was his first language and Grace wouldn’t be Grace without her sassing him to kingdom come. And so, with the cheek came back rubs, foot rubs, full body rubs that often led to something else. Oh, he received just as he gave; little conservative Grace may have appeared to be a librarian outside the bedroom, but inside? Well, his memories of that night were a pale imitation, because damn.  

Mostly, it was good—damn good—because he loved her, too. Just like it was good with Malia because he loved her.  

And if he had a chance with Fredrich? It would’ve been good, too.  

He loved them, but they were gone. Grace was beside him, spent, her chest—which, not to be a total neanderthal, but damn did he appreciate what pregnancy did for her chest—heaving up and down just as his was. Both were worn out. Sex this late in pregnancy was tricky, but Grace was a diligent researcher, after all. Sometimes, like tonight, it ended with the two in euphoria and covered with sweat; sometimes it ended in a blunder, but laughter, nonetheless.  

“Should take you out on a date,” he murmured, rolling on his side when he finally caught his breath to look at her. She was blissed out, dazed, with a small smile on her face. “Come to think ‘bout it, we never went on a date.” 

She snorted, but he went on. “How ‘bout it, Gracie? Once that baby pops out,” she made a face at his choice of words, but he ignored it. “You and me, just the two of us, somewhere real fancy, too.” 

“Let me guess, Burger King?”  

“Stuff it, Grace.” 

“You already did,” Grace parried slyly, turning her head over to face him with a smug grin, parroting what he had said earlier word-for-word. “Unless you’d like to try again? After all, you’re all—what? Thirty-six? You might need more rest for round three.” 

Yes, the sass did not die out, but fondness only grew with every retort she’d make.  

The night after, when he finally told her of how he felt, and then suggested a proper name for Whoops, their daughter decided to make her way into the world.  

*** 

Rebecca Chiyo Knight. He thought they’d give her Grace’s last name, but she insisted. At first, she thought Rebecca—Bex, which was a lot better than Whoops—would be a Ritter. “I might have Ritter blood,” Gabriel had told her, “But I’m a Knight. If she’s gonna have my name, I want her to be a Knight, not a Ritter.”   

He thought he knew love. He thought he had loved Bex when she was still growing in Grace’s stomach. He was dead wrong. Again, this was a time when he wasn’t so put out on being wrong. He only wished his Gran, Grace’s parents, or even Mosely could be there to see the first few days of Bex’s life.  

They probably would’ve been there to begin with, if they, both Grace and Gabriel, hadn’t waited so long to tell them. Oh, when they did tell them, weeks before the birth, they both got an earful.  

“My dad is going to want to know your intentions with me,” Grace had told him, looking pained. “If he pressures you into popping the question, just pretend all you can hear is white noise. It’s what I do.”  

If it were possible, he’d fallen in love with her all over again.  

When he had told Mosely he had laughed so hard, so damn hard, before going, “Wait, really? You’re shitting me, Knight. You? A daddy?”  

But the love he felt for Bex? Still undefinable. Without limits. Oh, the fear was there; the sort of fear that gripped him by the neck and made it hard to breathe. The worry about his family being doomed to raise orphans after orphans, or even worse, outliving the little girl that seemed to illuminate his shadows with the brightest of lights. To even think of having that light snuffed out was unimaginable. 

He wouldn’t be able to go on. How Wolfgang did it, he’d never know, and he hoped to God he’d never find out.  

He wasn’t comfortable holding her as he walked up and down Schloss Ritter when Grace needed her rest. She squirmed and he would do his best to keep calm, tell himself he wouldn’t drop her, and did his best to soothe her. He learned earlier he shouldn’t sing if he wanted to keep her calm; that made her cry louder. After a month, though, he somewhat got the hand of it. Late night feedings came in shifts, but he grew to enjoy the times when it was his turn, because it was just him and Bex. 

The nursery was finished, but she was too small to go into the crib, so the small cradle at the side of the bed in Grace’s room was where she slept. Not that she approved of sleeping there. She enjoyed it best sleeping on someone’s chest, her head tucked under the chin, drooling as she snored softly.  

In the morning they would make their way to New Orleans to visit Gran. Grace’s parents would be there, too, which had Grace’s nerves shot. She needed the rest after wearing a hole in the ground going repeatedly on what not to say to her parents, how to greet them, and please, for the love of God, do not mention that she was Fuji in his story.  

Apparently, her mom was a fan of his books.  

He’ll never let Grace live that down, much to her annoyance. 

And it was that night, where Bex was tucked under his chin, laying on his chest, as he rested on the couch in front of a dying fire in the lounge area, where, for once, no ghosts came to guilt him or give him benediction. The night was quiet, save the soft snores of his daughter, and when the sun rose, illuminating the world with light, he noticed his daughter’s gaze, and how if he squinted, he’d probably see galaxies dancing in those eyes of hers. All babies' eyes were pale at birth, but hers remained, if not slowly changing to another vibrant hue. “She’s gonna have your eyes,” Grace had promised on the drive home from the hospital.  

He was going to have the time of his life fighting dragons alongside her. “I think you’re gonna be the best adventure I’ll ever get to have, kiddo,” and Bex smiled up at him, even if it was probably gas, he’d still swear up and down that it was a smile. “What about it? Ready to raise hell?”  

As if considering his request, even if it was unlikely because she didn’t even know her own name just yet, she stared at him with those discerning eyes. Maybe his color of eyes, or will be, but her mother’s all the same. When she made her decision, whatever it was, she gave a loud yawn and closed her eyes, a thumb going back in her mouth to soothe into another long rest.  

And the world still turned. 

[sodiumlamp]

Picard

So this is actually where I came in, because I put the wrong disc in my DVD player, and it took me 10-15 minutes to figure out that it was Season 3 instead of Season 1.

My initial impression was that it looked kind of ridiculous for Dr. Crusher, now 70 years old if I'm not mistaken, to get in a crazy laser gun shootout. I mean, I don't know who's chasing her, but presumably they sent two of their better henchmen to get her, and she smokes both their asses. I could live with that, because the good guys always do a little better than they ought to in these kinds of situations, but there's a couple of moments where she just darts across the room to get to a better position, and the bad guys just sort of shoot at everything else in the scene while she's out in the open less than twenty feet away.

But now that I've seen Seasons 1 and 2, I realize this is just how the show rolls. Ridiculous gymkata battles, ridiculous BFG shootouts, it's all good on Star Trek: Picard. I guess I should be grateful Beverly didn't spin kick an alien, but there's still nine more episodes for that to happen.

Wait: Fantasy booking. Crusher and Troi have to stop a bad guy, and they lure him into a hallway with a mirror in it, and he's like "What the hell is going on here?" Then they come out wearing their backwards aerobics gear from TNG Season 3, and karate the shit out of him. I mean flips and kicks and elbows all over the place. Then the bad guy tries to open a door to escape, but Geordi rolls under the bottom of it and he's all "Going somewhere?" and bam! He kicks him in the nuts! Take that, alien bad guy! Then Geordi shoots heat vision from his cyborg eyes and he says "Take a look, it's in a book!" Then he says "fuck", because this is Picard and everyone swears.

Crusher sends a coded distress call to Picard and he takes like... a week to respond. First he gets the message, and Crusher explicitly warns Picard to "trust no one". He immediately tells his housekeeper to get her advice. Crusher also warns Picard not to go through Starfleet, so the next person he tells is Will Riker, his old buddy from Starfleet. Riker's idea is to get on a Starfleet ship and pull rank to get it to take them where they want to go. The ship's captain, a man named Shaw, tells them no, because he's not an idiot.

Okay, so the show goes out of its way to make Captain Shaw look like the biggest horse's ass in the universe. When they board the ship, they're greeted by his XO, Seven of Nine, who's now a real Starfleet Officer. But he makes her go by Annika Hansen. I thought Seven preferred Annika for a hot minute, but maybe I missed something. It's still weird that Captain Shaw can just order you to change your name and there's no Starfleet HR you can take that up with.

Shaw invites them to dinner in the captain's mess, but he's already eating when they get there, and he makes some weird joke about it to explain his behavior. Then he makes fun of Riker's musical tastes, and says a bunch of shit to Picard, who's a friggin' admiral for pity's sake. They really, really want you to hate this guy, but they overdid it. It just made me wonder how he got a command in the first place.

The idea is that you're supposed to think Captain Shaw's a jerk when he refuses to take Picard and Riker where they want to go, but no. He's a jerk for unrelated reasons. He's kind of within his rights to refuse their order for a course change, since he has orders from higher up to go where they're already going. So Seven does it behind his back while he's asleep, because she's the cool Starfleet officer who helps out the main characters when they're in a jam. Pretty sure she'll get court martialed for this, but no one seems to care. I think Shaw dies in a few episodes anyway, so it won't matter, but this is still incredibly dumb.

I mean... Picard had the exact same problem in Season 1. He needed to search for Bruce Maddox, but he couldn't involve Starfleet because he didn't work there anymore, so he made a few calls and hired Rios to take him where he needed to go. Why couldn't he just hire another private ship to do the same thing? Instead, they hijacked Captain Shaw's ship, and got caught the second Captain Shaw looked out the damn window. Then they stole a shuttlecraft to get the rest of the way. What were they going to do when they got back? Bring an injured Dr. Crusher onto the ship and pretend like they just happened to find her? She told Picard "no Starfleet" and now Shaw's going to file an official report to Starfleet about it.

All right, so they make it to Crusher's ship and they take their sweet-ass time searching for her, even though their sensors confirmed she's wounded. Fortunately, they find her in a healing tank. That's sad, because it'll take like fifteen episodes for her to get back to full strength, and Picard and Riker will have to fight Frieza by themselves in the meantime... wait.

The other guy on the ship claims to be her son? Everyone mumbles their lines on this show, especially whenever they state important exposition. It's not Wesley, since we just saw him in the last episode. It looks more like that guy who played Adult Wesley when Riker got Q powers and turned him into a grown man. I don't know if that's what they were going for, but it's the first thing I thought of.

The bad guy ship closes in on them, and Picard's like "Who's after you?" and the guy's like "See for yourself", and we see the ship, but I don't recognize it. Usually when they do that on a TV show, it's so the audience can see it's someone they recognize. Like you'd see a Cardassian ship and go "Oh, so the Cardassians are after her... but why?" But it's some new ship design which tells us nothing. Dr. Crusher's other son is a jerk.

While all of this is going on, Raffi is off doing her own separate TV show where she's trying to prevent a terrorist attack and fails miserably. She's all weepy and bitchy and annoying and it's impossible to tell what's going on with her. I remember being frustrated that we never got closure on her estranged son, but now I get why he was fed up with her bullshit. Cripes, imagine being her son. Man, nobody's got time for that.

Speaking of bitchy, I'm getting really sick of how everyone in this show has a beef or points a gun as soon as they show up. It usually happens to Picard, but that's only because he's the main character. Other characters will talk to people, and it immediately turns hostile. Picard goes to meet Raffi and she pulls a gun on him. Raffi goes to reconcile with her son and he tells her to get lost. Picard goes to find Guinan in the past and she pulls a gun on him. Guinan takes Picard to the Watcher lady and she pulls a gun on him.

Picard meets Captain Shaw and Shaw treats him like shit for no good reason at all. Like, you'd think Picard killed his wife or something. That's not even a hypothetical scenario, because Picard killed Sisko's wife and he still treated him more professionally than Shaw does here. Maybe Shaw had two wives and Picard killed them both? No, wait, he had seven wives, and Picard killed four and Riker killed three, and that's why he makes Seven of Nine use her birthname.

Sorry, I got off track there. Picard and Riker go to save the Crushers and Beverly's son... you guessed it... pulls a gun on them. It's a cool trick when used sparingly, but watching this show you'd think it's just a standard greeting in the 25th Century.

And it just keeps happening. Raffi and Seven were dating in Season 2, and all they did was bicker constantly. Rios and Jurati bickered a lot, but they were no longer dating. The key thing is to bicker, regardless of your romantic status. This might explain why Elnor hardly ever did anything on the show. His whole deal was "absolute candor", speaking honestly and without reservation. So it's hard to have him get in an argument with a friend or comrade, because if he was really hot at someone he would just say "I'm very mad at you" and leave. The writers didn't know how to write for him.

The biggest annoyance I have is when Picard first approaches Riker, and apologizes for taking him away from his family, and instead Riker notes that Deanna and Kestra would enjoy some time away from him. The fuck? We're doing a separation subplot with Riker now? We already did estranged Riker and Troi, and it was all seven seasons of TNG, plus two of the movies!

She'll be joining him before this show is over, so maybe they're just setting up some drama for later. It's not a terrible idea, but I don't trust this show to get it right, because they just have everyone mad at everyone else all the time. Worf and Geordi will probably show up later and they'll pull guns on each other and bicker about their failed marriage to each other. Then they'll see Picard and put aside their mutual loathing to point their guns at him, their common enemy.

This show is a tire fire. I don't like it.

[fantasticnerdluminary]

Hi I sent the ask through your friend because your anon was off but I still want to Apologise to you personally. I am sorry for what I said. I am only sorry for the father comment and nothing else, Alaeza is getting what she deserve and this hate wave coming towards her was long due. People here are not calling her out because they are bored out of their mind or projecting their insecurities, it's because she deserves it and she knows it, that's why she has her anon off, because she doesn't want people to call her out for being a fraud, liar and an attention seeker. Tell us why is only alaeza being called an attention seeker and problematic? nobody called your other friends gurleen and clara anything like this. Why? because they are truthful at the very least and not problematic like alaeza. She did a lot of things that were wrong while you were not on this app and she does it often. Half of the people are not even mad because you sexted publicly, they are mad because how you guys, especially alaeza, treat your followers and other creators. If you both are adults, then a good amount of us and the other creators are as well and we know how things are supposed to be handled when they go bad. Instead of telling *your* followers that we are insecure and projecting our insecurities while you two are popular queen bees who are enjoying their throne was wrong and immature of you both. Any public figure, whether online or offline, has *their* audience as their primary judges. BTS won't be BTS without their army. Zendaya wouldn't have won the emmy twice if her audience didn't like her acting in euphoria. You guys could have simply take the accountability of what you did and go ahead with the mindset of *we did what we did, you like it then okay if you don't then okay*. If you guys can do whatever you want on your account, then the people coming across your stuff can react the way they want. Accept that instead of calling your followers with names and putting other creators done. We hope you learn your lesson with alaeza once she starts showing you her true colours. Have a great day, sorry again.

Now, seriously I am not even affected by the comment on my father that much. But this????? like what do you mean? half of the people are mad at me because of what? no,dude it's not even close to half. You people are just few in number or maybe just one is there, like were you waiting for me to open anonymous asks?. You are so free to do all this, I guess so. If I had done something that much wrong then everyone should be against me. If you are mature enough to be an adult i.e. according to you, you wouldn't be sending this to me. I never stopped anyone to react anyone the way they want but reacting and disrespecting are two different things and to remind you you didn't react but just wanted to attack on my reputation and all my friends, readers, supporters because you don't want them to do good and be popular. and when did I show off popularity to anyone. I am really glad that people here appreciate my content enough and like me for who I am. I never said that you are projecting your insecurities on me. It's the second time you have stated the same statement. When did I call my followers with names and made other creators down? I'm not like you. You don't have to tell me how I treat my friends and followers. They can tell me themselves. Are you literally dumb, it's the same mindset as we did what we did and I don't care you like it or not. if you like it, it's fine. If you don't like it, that's fine too. what's the point in sending hate. DOES IT MAKE YOU HAPPY? JUST A WEIRDO IS WHAT YOU ARE.