#this is what is so fun about relationships like this��forever passing by each other’s true feelings like ships in the night

[imaybe5tupid]

Why bother? (Why bother?) It's gonna hurt me. (It's gonna hurt me.) It's gonna kill when- (Why bother!) -You desert me! (Gonna hurt me!)

Set after Nightmare. Laios is reminiscing and contemplating.

[winterrrnight]

hey angel, please could you write a fic with soft rafe x reader where they have been best friends for years and are finally in a relationship after admitting feelings for eachother and they have cute happy moments where they remember they’re not just friends theyre finally in a relationship now?

Tysm x

oh my goodness, this took me so so long than it should've and I'm so sorry about that! I love and adore this idea so much, but for some reason I never felt satisfied with how I was writing it so there were too many restarts. But we finally have the final product! It's inspired by your request, I don't think it's exactly what you requested, but the main idea was kept in mind throughout. I hope you like this and is up to your expectations 💞

memories

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: a little collection of some of your favorite moments with your best friend, lover, partner in crime all rolled in one: rafe cameron.

WARNINGS: small mentions of alcohol, but mostly fluff and two lovers being mean to each other because it's their love language 🫶🏻🤭

EDITH SPEAKS: thank you to my bestie @runningfrom2am who helped me out with this fic! she told me all her favourite memories with her own boyfriend and that resulted in this very cute fic so thank you sooo much raye 🥹🥹

There is a little KC Undercover reference in the fic, which is like, probably one of the most iconic dialogues of Ms. KC herself and I had this beautiful opportunity to use it so I just couldn't pass it up 🤭

I hope you all like this!! Please ignore any little grammatical/spelling errors. And please like and reblog if you like this 🪂

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It's so easy for you to say how your life has changed for the better when you and Rafe finally became official. He has been your best friend since you both were little, and now to see you both expand your relationship which you had formed since such a small age, always makes you feel like the happiest person on this planet.

It's no lie that it took you some time to finally get to the dating stage. After realising your feelings for each other, you both needed a lot of pushing from your friends to finally confess.

"He looks at you as if you're his whole world! Why aren't you telling him?" Your friends would groan, as they would catch you with your mouth almost agape as he walks past you and gives you a smile.

"No, I don't think he does," you would dismiss your friends' thoughts and before they could say anything else, you would be rushing to your class.

Now, fast forward to three years later, you both are in university and live in a shared apartment. You took your own time to reach to this stage of your life with each other, but you're so grateful where you are now, because there's no one else you'd rather do it with.

"When we'll grow old, we'll be roomies forever!" Rafe would tell you in his little squeaky voice when he wasn't even seven years old. You would giggle at him and eagerly nod. Who knew those little dreams will come true, and you both will be a lot more than just friends?

Sharing an apartment with Rafe is everything you've always imagined it would be, each night feels like the sleepover you had when you were little. Except this time, you don't have this fear of laughing a little too loud that a parent is on their way to scold you for being up for so late. You can laugh and talk as loud as you want to, eat whatever your heart desires and talk about any topic you feel like.

You both have your moments where you tend to forget you're dating and aren't just two best friends who share an apartment solely because they thought it would be fun. One time, you had one of your oldest albums in your camera roll opened, and you were laughing at all the pictures.

"Dude look at this one!" You laughed, finding a hidden gem. Rafe feigned shock as he looked at you.

"You did not just call me dude." He said, deadpanned. You pop a crisp in your mouth from the packet you're both sharing.

"What's wrong with that?" You asked shrugging.

"I'm your boyfriend, that's rude,"

"Whatever bro," you giggled, averting your attention to your phone.

"That's even worse!" He whined.

"OH MY GOD!" You yelled as you laughed out loud, the next picture on your phone seeming pretty unbelievable. It's from a Halloween night years ago, and you both totally forgot you dressed up very poorly as Barbie and Ken. But the thing is, you were Ken and he was Barbie.

You both were dressed in a hot pink from head to toe, and your make up is loud and proud. "You need to be Barbie again," you laughed, as you teased him by nudging his arm with your elbow.

"Definitely not," he chuckled, shaking his head.

It definitely doesn't stop here. It was your aunt's birthday and she had a big party, inviting a lot of your family. It was towards the start of your relationship, and you definitely weren't used to calling this idiot your boyfriend.

"And this is Rafe! He's my uh, my boyfriend! Yes, boyfriend, oh my god!" You said out loud, your aunt laughing at your reaction.

He only shook his head at you and flicked your ear. Your reflexes acted up instantly and your hands went to his hair to completely mess them up.

One thing about you both is that have been extremely competitive since you were little. You've always wanted to beat him in whatever game you're playing, bowling, basketball, or even just Uno. And when one wins, they make sure to remind the other about it every minute.

"Oh my god I totally crushed you!" You yelled, attracting attention from people around you as you jump up and down, looking at the final score of your bowling match with Rafe.

"I won, you lost, I won, you lost," you sang as you danced in front of him, and he just stood there, looking at you.

"Oh shut up," He groaned, walking away as you're there dancing to yourself. You laughed and ran to catch up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he instantly picked you up, you now on his back with your legs around his waist.

"I'm sorry bub, but I did crush you big time," you mumbled kn his ear. He groaned again, and then threatened to drop you on the ground. You let out a squeal and tighten your grip on him, which in turn made him laugh.

But you both are a whole another level of competitiveness when you are a team. There's not a single game invented which you both cannot win as a team, and the adrenaline rush you both get after you win results in some of the most crazy victory couple dances.

You found yourself at a party, and the game of beer pong is at an edge as people are watching you and him compete against another couple. It was the tiebreaker point, and if Rafe made the shot, you both would win.

"You can do this yeah?" You said, your hands holding his face as you looked him straight in the eye. "Just take a deep breathe, and shoot." He nodded at you and you handed him a ping pong ball.

He took his position and took a deep breathe in, clutching onto the ball in his hand. He shot the ball, and you watched from the side expectantly, your hands clutched together. It felt as if everything was in slow motion as the ball made its way to the other end of the table. You heard a soft plop as it landed in a cup of beer, and everyone around you started to cheer out loud.

You ran up to Rafe with the biggest grin on your face and he picked you up and spun you around. One of your friends came up to hand you the cup of beer. Rafe drank half of it, and then gave you the beer left to drink.

Everyone came up to you to congratulate you and hype you up even more, getting an occasional pat on your back. You looked at the couple who you both defeated, and Rafe made his way to them with you on his heels.

"Ding!" He said out loud. "That's the sound of the elevator, because you're not on our level!" He teased them and everyone around you gasped and cheered out loud, as you hollered around. The couple just gave you both a dirty look and leave, and you just looked at Rafe and gave him a high five.

"That'll tell 'em not to challenge us anymore," he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your head.

But what was the most concerning yet your favorite moment between you two was when he had this urge to be your knight in shining armor, but he also wanted to be the reason you needed help.

You were planning to take a little boat ride with all your friends, and as you all were standing on the dock, Rafe gave you a little nudge and dropped you in the water.

You screamed out loud as you went into the water, but quickly resurfacing as you swam up. You wiped your face with your hands as you pushed all your hair back, and when your eyes regained their focus, you saw everyone on the dock looking at you with utter shock.

You were gasping as you felt the cold water on your skin, when Rafe quickly removed his t shirt and came closer to the edge of the dock.

"Don't worry darling, I'm coming to save you!" He yelled with his chest wide as if he's a hero. You watched him jump into the water and swim up to you, and just as he reached you, you punch him in his arm, hard.

"What the fuck is this?!" You yelled, and Rafe came closer to you and wrapped his arms around you.

"What do you think this is? I'm here to save you," He said with a proud smile on his face.

"You asshole, you dropped me in the water," you said as he started to lead you towards the dock.

"What are you saying? You tripped off the edge and I'm here to save you. Did you hit your head on a rock or something?" He shook his head. You scoffed as he helped you get onto the dock. "I'm your knight babe, I'll always save you whenever you need to be rescued."

"What a relief." You said, rolling your eyes.

What he said that day is totally true though, all these times you've wanted help from someone, he's been there for you without fail. He picks you up everytime you fall down, even literally (but after he finishes laughing at you).

He makes you the happiest you have ever been. You'll always be so grateful for him.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury

(If you want to be added, check out the 'join my taglist' post on top! + send in requests if you have any, but please read the 'requests' post first!)

[sylvies-chen]

top five moments of 6x02 ♡

OMG I CAN ONLY PICK FIVE?? OK LET’S GO:

lie detector (tim’s ily) — I think this moment is my favourite part of the episode by far, because first off you have the question about the bugs which was SOOOO cute and so encapsulating of chenford’s relationship that it had me giggling at my tv and twirling my hair lol. but then lucy takes the time to seek out confirmation of his love out of her own will, not because she needed to be proven right but because she wanted to hear it 🥹 and he immediately says yes! he loves her! we finally get to hear it and the lie detector shows it’s true and it’s just so gratifying for chenford fans to finally get this

cop cutie! cute and on duty! — GUYS I KNOW IT’S CORNY BUT HATERS WILL HATE, DADDY COP IS A BANGER!! this was so funny and such an earworm— and to those saying they thought it was an old episode when it opened on that scene, lemme just say SAME lol— but then to up the ante by pulling out the choir as if literally singing for and rejoicing the 100th episode was just so perfect and classic rookie: a little hokey but well executed and fun and all around heartfelt. 10/10 I need it on spotify right now.

if I ain’t got you by alicia keys (lucy’s ily) — okay I’m scared some of you chenford girlies are going to tar and feather me for not putting this at number 1 or 2 but HEAR ME OUT: I’ve expressed my problems about this temporary argument solution!! I think this whole scene is so gorgeous for so so so many reasons: lucy and tim dancing as a couple for the first time, the matching outfits, the kiss, ugh all PERFECT I love my babies 🥹❤️ that being said, I don’t like how so much of the resolution/peace between them relied on tim being completely in the wrong when I feel like it’s a more nuanced issue than that and denies lucy any opportunity to critically reflect on her own feelings about this. and also, it does seem weird to me that she wouldn’t have said ‘I love you’ back to tim when he first said it?? they smile at each other but then they’re back to looking awkwardly from afar at the wedding (prior to this scene of course) and so I’m a bit uneasy at the implication (which the writers did not necessarily add on purpose) that lucy’s ily depended on him admitting he was wrong in any way. but idk maybe I’m just being too nitpicky here, I still ADOREEE THIS SCENE FOREVER AND EVER I want it on my grave k thanks

tim down on one knee — need I say more?? this imagery of him on his knee with the ring staring up at lucy was a glimpse at chenford’s future and it was such cute teasing, god I love writers and showrunners when they add messy fun little teaser moments like this! plus tim totally kicked ass, all covered in blood and ready to pass out, and ah, I do always say the best kind of lust is bloodlust 😌

bailan wedding vows — I actually cannot believe the day has come where a bailan moment is in my top 5 episode moments but these wedding vows showed me how the writers are finally able to articulate what works about them as a couple!! with someone as impressive and as versatile and skilled as bailey, I think literally any other man would feel threatened or emasculated, but nolan really is just Some Guy™️ who’s really into her and obsessed with her and is very sturdy ground for her to come home to. I wish we dove more into her past as a survivor of abuse because I feel like that previous situation informs so much of why she loves john even though, let’s be real: she’s eons above his league holy shit it’s not even funny how out of his league she is. but also she could never be with anyone else! she really just loves him and they have such a nice soft relationship which the wedding really sold me on. I liked it a lot even though I had my qualms about her and him as individuals and together.

honourable mention to wade and luna because I love them so much y’all they are adorable!! anyways, here’s my list and lmk if you agree

[changingplumbob]

Tell us your 3 fave OC ships and the song(s) or other media you associate with them. They can be your own OCs or the OCs of someone else (it's more fun if you include someone else!) Pass this on to 3 others (on or off anon) and let's keep the game going!

Strap in folks! Somebody asked me to talk about love (my favourite thing after cats) so I'm going to go for it! I'm going to do 3 ships of other simmers (I'm afraid I won't say what media I associate with these as I don't want to misrepresent any characters) and 3 ships of my sims because "Hang the code! And hang the rules! They're more like guidelines anyway" (yes, Pirates of the Caribbean is still going around in my head)

Other's Amazing OC 🚢 (so hard to pick)

Vlad and Ji Ho by @satureja13. I am a big fan of romance that takes its time and these two fit that. Check out their writing if you haven't already as there are several sweet couples trying to find their way in the world. If you're searching for a song for them well... the story pieces come with music to get you in the headspace.

2. Victor and Yuri by @stargazer-sims. I've only just met these two recently but I love them already. To me true couples support each other, and the devotion these two have for one another is shown in the writing.

3. Excuse me while I do 3 for number 3 because I'm indecisive. Zinnia and Momo by @belsasim. Young love is adorable! Who knows what these two have ahead but I'm excited to see how it goes. Erick and Noemi by @matchalovertrait. I love a couple that cheer on each other's dreams, and these two do that. REDACTED and REDACTED by @simmerbeans. The 7th generation is so sweet and that's all I'll say because no spoilers here!

My Beloved OC 🚢

Reece and Samir. I love these two because they communicate with each other. It drives me insane when couples go through problems created by not just sitting down and having a proper conversation. Yes they're on the spicy end of the spectrum, I wrote a mini TedTalk for @daedriyth about why, but beyond the spice they are pretty damn devoted to each other.

Song: Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift because I listened to it loads when writing them actually getting together so in my head, there's a connection.

I didn't come here to make friends We were born to be suburban legends When you hold me, it holds me together And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

2. Rahul and Cassandra. Rahul came along and showed Cassandra a life beyond the expectations of being part of the Goth family. They have moved to the country and together are working on raising their kids (and still want more kids). Rahul wants to give Cassandra the large loving family that neither of them felt they had growing up.

Song: Beautiful Day by Joshua Radin because the it sounds like them. It's about connecting back to nature, shrugging off the negative, and making a peaceful home where you are.

Gonna climb that hill behind my house See what this place is all about Cause from above it all, you can't help but say It's gonna be a beautiful day

3. Keira and Marta. Keira was getting over a teenage romance when she met Marta. The two clicked, Marta is a romantic and Keira has the soulmate aspiration. Marta may have an abusive ex but Keira has proposed and is longing to make a love nest with the girl who helps her feel good about herself.

Song: Meant To Be by Bebe Rexha ft. Florid Georgia Line because they took their time when they started their relationship. Keira was still very new at dating and Marta was wary after it took her so long to realise her ex Liam was treating her like trash.

No need to go nowhere fast Let's enjoy right here where we at Who knows where this road is supposed to lead We got nothing but time

Happy Valentines Day from New Zealand

[blackfilmmakers]

i'm super late to the astv discussions, but i wanted to add that peter ramsey was only directly involved in itsv as one of the directors. he's only the exec producer for astv and btsv which is just a fancy title and the writers for astv and btsv wrote for the voltron series, so like it's NOT looking good lmao. peter ramsey is a black man and he GETS it and he honestly was the key itsv was and still is so good!

it also explains why astv doesn't have the same beats as the first one and feels less cohesive and more disjointed. i think the writers and current directors do not have the nuance to write miles' (and the other spideys of color) properly. gwen getting the first what 20 minutes of the film and probably more character development than miles in his OWN story is proof of that. and honestly gwennie deserves her own post bc i got feelings about that girl and why she and peter b. are perfect examples of how yt (and non-black) fandom as a whole continually center yt characters to propel their narratives while characters of color are either sidelined, mistreated, one-note, or susceptible to racist stereotypes

also, i think one of the directors stated that he openly hated miguel and used him in the film as a means to make fun of him and like miguel in the comics is white passing (half mexican / half irish), so saying this about a now visibly latino man I C K.

this series should've been peter ramsey's project and have up and coming black directors / directors of color really bring a new breath to further the spiderverse franchise. i keep thinking about how much work and love jordan peele, boots riley, nikyatu jusu, RYAN COOGLER, etc have put into their works. i'm not saying that yt writers / directors shouldn't make stories about characters of color, but they need to put in the work and make it a collaboration with the ppl who are these characters.

like i'm just tired bc black nerds / fans can never have true escapism in media and when we do it's barely supported and regaled as it should be. i love miles, like that's my boy fr! spider powers are so cool so seeing characters that look like me have them was supposed to be something i can truly get lost in, but honestly can't :/

i feel similar about wakanda forever and wakanda being in the mcu, but that's a different issue since ryan and his team still committed to making something i can still at the very least enjoy.

🤎

Something definitely changed in the writers’ room here, because this movie’s message went into a whole other direction(s) from where we left off of ITSV

Miles and Gwen’s relationship in the first movie was at best a mild one-sided attraction. So how’d we get from that to now all of a sudden they are constantly in each other’s minds? They had to stretch this belief that Miles and Gwen’s relationship was so unique and important that we ignore everyone else crucial to Miles’ character.

I get Ganke is practically MCU’s Peter’s best friend, but they could’ve involved him more. All this talk of how Miles feels alone, when the guy he told his secret to(to ease that load) is right there

It doesn’t help Voltron writers were also involved in the project, and from the looks of it a significant portion of the story

Also wtf is with the Miguel bit I never heard of that. I wouldn’t be surprised, but I’m curious where thwt information came from

[lepoppeta]

Song asks: CharPentious

this was even harder than vaggiebomb holy cow

charpentious is probably my favourite charlie ship (theres like... negative art of it so i have to placate myself with the oodles of delicious charlastor drawings available). pentious and charlie are on the exactly same wavelength of golden retriever dumbass that they feed off of each other in this wonderful pocket ecosystem of support and positivity. they would undoubtedly make everyone else around them absolutely sick to their very gums and thats honestly half the fun.

the thing that was tripping me up about these two and finding songs was trying to find something that wasnt super generic - its all well and good to use any happy love song, but those can be applied to any number of situations. i wanted to try and be a little more niche. i dont know how successful i was.

love is an open door (frozen, sung by kristen bell and santino fontana)

all my life has been a series of doors in my face, and then suddenly i bump into you (i was thinking the same thing! cause like - ive been searching my whole life to find my own place, and maybe its the party talking, or the chocolate fondue)

one of the things i really wanted to highlight about the potential for these two is how EASY i think their relationship would be. after years of being met with adversity and ridicule, heres someone who doesnt think youre stupid or that your dreams are too big or that your inventions are too gaudy and complicated - they think its WONDERFUL. they think YOURE wonderful, in all of your goofiness, because within that lies sincerity.

something to believe in (newsies, sung by jeremy jordan and kara lindsay)

til the moment i found you, i thought i knew what love was. now im learning what is true - that love will do what it does. the world finds ways to sting you, and then one day it decides to bring you

something to believe in for even a night. one night may be forever, but thats alright - thats alright. and if youre gone tomorrow, what was ours will still be. i have something to believe, now that i know you believed in me.

(we was never meant to meet, and then we meet - who knows why. one more stranger on the street, just someone sweet passing by. an angel come to save me, who didnt even know she gave me

something to believe in for even a day. one day may be forever, but thats okay - thats okay. and if im gone tomorrow, what was ours will still be. i have something to believe in, now that i know you believed in me.)

i dont normally copy down that many lyrics, but they fit so well that i had to include all of them!

one of my favourite things about charlie ships is that (ideally) she wins over the other party simply by being kind and almost aggressively genuine. while i have my own opinions on how characters work and what they are within the universe, this song becomes heartbreaking if you put it in the context of show canon and have it be the last duet they have before heaven comes to attack - pentious calls her an angel, and they say that even though he/they might die tomorrow (which, as we all know, is what happens), it doesnt change the fact that charlie forgave pentious and allowed him the oppurtunity of redemption, and pentious in turn actually put in effort and became the hotels proof of concept.

[joz-yyh]

Rust - Ch. 10

SUMMARY: *Flashback Chapter!* Damian returns from the cove to find his teacher waiting for him. Will this reunion see their relationship deepen? No Beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (groping / first kiss)

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant

WORD COUNT: 4,632

READ ON Ao3: Here!!

A/N: Sorry, it's taken me forever to get back into this. Hopefully, ya’ll are still interested in it. ^^; Think this might be the last of the flashback chapters? Next one will be focusing on the present. (Heck, even I get turned around in a nonlinear story) XD

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Tardif wouldn't admit that he's waiting, loitering maybe, arms crossed, hiding in the alleyway, keeping an eye on any and all who pass through the promenade.

He sees the usual faces, tired residents going about their miserable existence with their wagons and livestock, stamping away at dead earth, no one noteworthy.

Time passes, a good hour maybe and now he has to wonder if the tip about the expedition party returning today was given on poor authority. If so, his informant will pay dearly for the con of bad intel and just as he thinks of an appropriate punishment, the grave robber in her trademark hat and boots saunters into town.

It's not long before Audrey spots him, offering a smirk in his direction, a clue that she knew more about why he was here than he would give her credit for.

He's hoping the obtrusive blonde will go away if he ignores her, but no such luck, the woman changing her trajectory, headed straight toward him.

“And just what are you doing here, all alone in the corner? Waiting for me,” she teases, bowing forward in a wide stance, sporting a haversack of loot on her shoulder, “You're gonna give a girl the wrong idea.”

“Ye got nothin, I want,” he snorts at her, avoiding her eyes.

“Oh, I am sure that's not entirely true,” she taunts, taking out a coin purse, dangling it at him, “Penny for your thoughts?”

The brute snatches her bribe before she can redact her offer and Audrey, the blasted girl, makes herself comfortable, occupying the other side of the alley, reposed as a mirror image of him.

“I am waitin’.”

“Is that all my money gets me,” she frowns, having surmised that on her own, “a droll observation? I want my purse back.”

Cut off gloves sway her beckoning nails, but Tardif turns his nose away, not giving her payment back, seeking to count it instead.

“Fine, waitin’ fer him.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

“And what do you plan to do when this ‘him’ arrives,” the thief giggles, the frills of her ascot accentuating it, arms crossed in classy debonair fashion.

“That’ll cost more,” he growls, noting how few gold pieces there were inside. Usually, he could tell the quantity by sound alone, but the overabundance of silver shillings threw him off.

“I think I've lightened my purse enough for one evening. You'll have to bear my company for another minute.”

The haggard brim of her hat swivels, Audrey turning her sharp eyes to Josie and Amani, the next heroines to arrive back home.

If the serpent dancer was still in possession of both hands, one would certainly be holding the antiquarian’s, the two women walking so close together, brushing shoulders at every step, batting convivial eyelashes at each other.

“Just look at them. Thick as thieves. Headed to the caravan to drink with the trinket girl, I imagine.”

“Ain't no business of mine,” Tardif grunts, trying to kill any attempt at conversation.

“You're not as fun as a certain flagellant I know,” Audrey sighs, Tardif's standoffish behavior wearing her down quicker than a pair of primadonna heels, “I think I like him better.”

“Don't be gettin’ any ideas.”

“Oh please, my tastes strictly lie in girls, specifically brunettes. Besides, he seems entirely fixated on this fat owl bear who gave him some stupid rope as a courtship ritual.”

Tardif feels the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks, fists clenching around the fabric of his biceps. He refuses to acknowledge his female tormentor, keeping his attention on the road ahead, where the cursed regions lie, their dark hills a much better view.

The flagellant must be lagging behind as usual; otherwise, he wouldn't be stuck in this situation. The fool better not have died on him. He's tempted to ask Audrey, but she gave him no cause to assume the worst had happened, only that he's late.

“Don't worry bounty hunter, he'll be along,” the lady says, getting up to take her leave, their cavorting at its end, “Could try being nice to him for a change. Might work out better for you.”

Tardif has never been good at taking advice, especially hers and at these, her parting words, his quarry's somber hood finally lobs into view.

His head is cast down, limbs heavy with weariness, rope strewn crossbody so it swoops against his waist and damn if isn't one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen leading off into the horizon.

Cloaked in stealth, Audrey hides herself amongst the districts, sticking around to witness how the two look at each other from across the square, getting her money's worth.

Damian seems truly surprised to notice his mentor there, waiting for his return, and suddenly all his weariness is expelled, scampering the rest of the distance with a crooked smile.

He gathers the rope, throws the band of loops around the bounty hunter’s neck in blissful celebration, using the tether to pull him in, knocking their heads together.

“What stories I have to tell you,” Damian beams, eyes sparkling with excitement.

The brute wasn't expecting such a showy reception, a poor man's coronation, weary of an audience, namely Audrey.

“Then tell me,” Tardif says, grabbing a bloody hand, dragging the miscreant along to some place more private, away from the public eye.

—-

They're at Tardif's special practice field, this becoming their usual meeting spot, occupying one of the benches inside a spectator's box while Damian talks up a storm.

Tardif has since passed the rope onto the flagellant's collar, letting the loops dangle from a spiked hook, wearing the morbid gallows favor for long enough.

Damian is all too happy to inherit it again, this helping him to reenact his story, hands molding into a broad arch.

“The creature was gargantuan,” the priest turned bard says, “pincers like you wouldn't believe.”

“Heh, that right,” Tardif laughs, enjoying the epic tale. Junia had said Damian had a knack for telling stories if only he'd chosen to listen back then. “So, wot did ye do?”

“The shaman cast spell after spell, strengthening their defense, summoning another foe. Our party bled from their claws, but I took their wounds, made them my own.”

A fist curled in triumph, Damian flexing his muscles, to which the axeman can only goad him on.

“Did ye?”

“Yes, you should have seen it, such bright red spilling around my feet. They lunged for a final strike, thinking they had me, but I bound their weapons in a snare, just as you taught me.”

“Wot ‘bout Audrey? She pull her weight?”

He's hoping for some blackmail, a token of payback, but the flagellant only has great remarks to honor her with.

“Her pickaxe was most helpful in dismantling the coral,” Damian nods, “Her darts struck one of the fish people, took out it's eye. Popped like a bubble.”

The cove didn't bother Tardif nearly as much as the warrens, but Damian paints a very vivid picture, whinging at the comparison, especially sensitive about eyes.

“And Josephine?”

“Her vapors reached far into their ranks, but the king crab nearly cut through its binds, you can see here where it's frayed.”

He pauses in his recounting to find it, showing off the inanimate object's injury. Tardif will have to remember to patch it with tar even if Damian will most likely want to keep it as a wound to match his own, but nothing worse than snapped rope when your life was on the line.

“Thankfully, Amani was able to pierce its carapace with her spear. After that, it was only a matter of time until the battle was won.”

He knew the snake charmer would be a valuable asset to the team, and with the way Damian illustrated their adventure, it felt like Tardif had witnessed every blow for himself.

“If only you had seen the whale carcass,” his companion says more solemnly, a missed opportunity, “Such vast pools of blood, large enough to drown the entire town in its weight.”

By that account, perhaps its best the rotting beast stayed right where it was.

“Could make a trip sometime,” the huntsman jests, an impulse of flippant sarcasm.

Damian lights up, invigorated, skin prickling with energy.

“Truly, you’d let me take you?”

The mercenary meant it unwittingly, a rhetorical suggestion, but now that he’s seen how exhilarated Damian’s become, how can he possibly say, ‘no?’

“If it means that much to ye.”

“It does! Josephine taught me a shortcut. We only need be mindful of the tentacles.”

Tardif would rather avoid the slimy charms of wild calamari, preferring to keep his distance lest he become seafood himself and before he can wrap himself up in any more impending occult nonsense, he swerves the conversation onto much tamer topics.

“Anyway, sounds like ye earned this.”

Tardif was waiting for the right moment to share his gift, this as good a time as any, pulling something off the leather jungle of his belt.

“What is it,” the masochist asks, staring at the pouch intently.

“Jerky. Made it myself.”

The holy man seems completely fixated, salivating at the mouth as the burlap sack is opened, his stomach growling, forgetting how hungry he was until this moment.

“C'mon n’ try it,” he teases, “It's rough like yer crustaceans so you’ll hafta wear it down with yer teeth.”

The priest procures a strip of salted beef, a miniscule corner disappearing past his lips. It's true he can't bite through it, the fibers are too thick, but the flavors of hickory and salt have him lapping over it with his tongue, a feast for his taste buds.

“Must you always give me things that tempt my resolve,” the flagellant quips, tearing off a piece with his teeth.

There's some hedonism to be found within the phrase, knowing that the flagellant liked it as much as he did, that Tardif was a constant vice of temptation for him.

“Fear not the holy path, for the difficulties that lie ahead are blessings in disguise,” Tardif quotes, reciting the words in the same manner he heard them spoken.

“Have you been reading up on your scriptures,” the flagellant beams, delighted at the thought, his ears ringing.

“Heh, just somethin’ that's stuck wit’ me. Remembered it from a long time ago.”

The shrug he gives doesn't hide the painful look, the bounty hunter turning his attention toward the ground, the flagellant offering this to console him.

“Often it is the things that resonate with us that prove we are all guided, disciples of the Light.”

“Hn, life has no coincidences.”

The bounty hunter takes a piece of jerky, joining in, sampling his spoils, shutting himself up before they carry on any more religious talk.

The two fall into silence, looking out onto the practice field, more blades of green grass popping up from matted compost.

“The rest is yours,” Tardif says, nodding towards the preserved meat, “It keeps a while so it's good on a journey.”

“Thank you, but I can't accept this.” The smell alone was too heavenly. He would likely eat it all if left to his own devices. “It's too much. Surely, you must take half for yourself.”

“If I did, then ye couldn't share it with the hound and those poor folk outside the church.”

Realization spreads over scared lips, this Tardif's subtle hint at an apology to the ones he hurt.

“I see, an anonymous donation. Who knew a bounty hunter could be so charitable?”

“Don't get used to it,” he snorts, smirking at him.

“Ah, perhaps a reward would persuade you?”

“A reward, huh,” he muses, rubbing his scruff in contemplation, “Think I got somethin’.”

He beckons, provoking his companion closer, knowing this was to be a decisive moment between them.

Damian seems to feel it too, the gravity, the imbalance, too curious not to obey as Tardif drifts closer, lips hovering near a shrouded ear as if to whisper a secret, but they press against his cheek, giving a chaste kiss against his bloody hood.

He's deposed, abuzz with static. Only one thought cuts through the haze.

“But … aren't I supposed to give you something?”

Tardif laughs at such innocence.

“Could give me one too,” the bounty hunter teases, pointing to his own reserved cheek, “right 'ere.”

Damian takes a sharp inhale, preparing himself to choose which illustrious patch of savage flesh he wishes to christen.

There, a summit right below his metal helm, he recreates the bounty hunter’s actions, intending for a swift deliverance, but oh, one taste of him is his undoing, a genesis for more.

Lips meet bronze, another kiss granted beneath the previous one, leading a winding trail down to the gruff corner of his mouth.

Scarred fingers touch over his chin, molding over the other half of an unshaven face, wanting to kiss that side too, but he's afraid of taking things too far even if Tardif hasn't made a move to stop him yet.

Instead, he brushes his cheek against the brute’s stubble, maybe to take back the advance he made, maybe to coat himself in his scent.

“I want to kiss you so badly,” Damian moans, unable to keep the agony of his desire held within, breath short, gasping for it.

“Then, do it,” the bounty hunter teases with a smirk, having much the same desire.

The flagellant reels with explicit permission, coveting this moment for so long he can hardly believe what he heard was real and truly spoken. Tardif could make this easy for him, take control and separate the distance, but he wants to wait, see how a self-proclaimed holy man would kiss.

It happens in increments, the flagellant moving forward, then amending his choice, pulling back, titling his head, as if he wants this to be the most perfect kiss any one man has given another.

He’s terrified of breaking the illusion, of crossing a line he's only dreamed of crossing, gentle lips stopping at the barest traces of contact, but it’s close enough to be felt, Damian grounding himself with a brush of bloody fingertips against the bounty hunter’s jaw.

The flagellant holds him like he’s something precious, delicate and Tardif can’t stand how such sweetness threatens to seize his heart within a tourniquet grip. He wants to give Damian more of a chance, but this floundering anticipation is killing him, the way the flagellant can’t stop shaking, hardly sure of turning a dazed feather-light peck into a proper kiss.

Tardif needs more roughness, fleshed pressed so tightly that it bruises, the flagellant gasping as the bounty hunter shows him just how much pressure to add.

Reflex and shock have the priest pulling back, but a firm grip on his neck won’t let him go far, yanking him in, joining them together again much more confidently.

Their hands are touching all over each other, some unspoken rule about keeping it above the waist, but it doesn’t stop them from getting more and more flushed. He swears there will be an early spring just from the heat they’re generating alone.

“We can go no farther than this,” is Damian’s ragged testament, breaking them apart.

“Heh, and why’s that,” the brute teases, breathing just as heavily, licking away the string of saliva from his lips.

“This is … overwhelming for me. I ... I need time ... I need to be ready, need to be sure.”

“To wot? Sort out that ye have the hots fer me?”

“... Yes,” Damian admits, blushing furiously, touching their foreheads together, tangling his hands inside the bounty hunter’s cowl.

“Thought ye already figured that out,” he snorts.

“I did, I have, but I never knew just how much I … this would affect me.”

“Yer the one that kept jonesin’ fer more, remember?”

Damian gives him a helpless look, knowing he had no right to ask, but he does so anyway.

“Please, just give me time, a week, just one.”

“Hn … one week,” the bounty hunter muses, teasing his lips against the other’s, breath blowing hot, “s’pose I could do that. Given the right incentive.”

The mercenary is in control now, taking from his partner’s mouth, dipping his tongue in, Damian groaning into it, the bounty hunter sucking on his tongue to keep him quiet because if he’s going to be forced to wait, then he'll need this to hold onto.

It burns, it burns so much between his legs. It’s terrifying, being so consumed, Damian never feeling such an unmeasurable ache before, fearing this heat will never cool, even when gone from the very source.

“Enough, please,” the flagellant says, prying himself away, driving Tardif back, “I … I can barely stand it.”

“Could take care of it fer ye,” the mercenary teases, a jerk of insinuation, “Won't take long.”

Damian is positive it wouldn't, but he's not interested in frivolous groping, degenerate sin that will be over just as soon as it starts. The flagellant wants something more than that, a long, tender meeting that he can look back on and devour for the rest of his days; he just has no idea how to express it.

The holy man hasn't moved, hasn't spoken, teetering between action and inaction while Tardif continues his seduction, leaning closer, voice a treble of enticing gravel.

“I want it too, ye know,” he coos, boldly taking his partner’s hand, guiding it to the hardness in his trousers, “See?”

Damian is frozen, too shocked by this discovery to pull away, so overwhelmed by how quickly their relationship has changed, to know the bounty hunter like this when it was just a fever dream mere moments ago.

Curious with excitement, a bloody palm molds itself over his shape, no more wishful imaginings, but swollen truth.

“Not here,” he pleads, shaking his head, resting his touch on the bounty hunter’s thigh.

“Why not,” his partner grunts, growling with opposition, seeing no difference any other place would make.

His mind is fuzzy, discombobulated and blank with noise, fumbling through an explanation as best he can.

“Let it be somewhere all our own,” he begins, hand now raising to trace the coral rouge of the bounty hunter’s lips, “Make it last so we both remember.”

Ah, he could see the appeal of having their own private room, not at the brothel nor the tavern, but the space of a secluded cabin tucked away in the woods.

“Aye, could take ye as many times as I wanted, make ye scream as loud as I wanted.”

Damian's trembling, his imagination full of what could happen with just one passionate twisting of their bodies and now he has to deal with the possibility of another, maybe more.

The mercenary smirks, prideful, gratified to have a holy man lusting over him, probably toiling with an arousal more painful than his own.

“Think I know a place. Could have it ready in 'bout a week.”

Damian is flooded with relief, glad they could finally come to an agreement, sighing as he is met with yet another obstacle.

“Then, what shall we do now?”

“I'll show ye.”

Tardif untangles them, getting up to grab a raggedy blanket from one of the practice dummies, history repeating itself.

“Ain't it funny,” the bounty hunter remarks, sitting back down beside him, “the dummies losin’ their clothes before we do.”

The flagellant gags with embarrassment, once again reminded of his neglected erection, “No one said to strip them.”

Tardif holds one end of the blanket close around his shoulder, the other end pulled around his back, holding it open for his partner to fill.

“C'mon, it's cold,” he motions, flapping the drape in invitation.

It’s an excuse, Damian knows it; the weather too mild for any snow to keep, the seasons well on their way to changing.

“Are you not warm enough under all those layers,” the priest teases, letting his offer hang in the balance.

“Freezin’,” he taunts, hoping to persuade the masochist back into the intimacy they shared.

Slowly, Damian is convinced, shifting back until their thighs are touching, trying to garner some distance lest they sink into the same cycle they faced not so long ago.

“Can lean on me if ye want.”

It takes a minute, but slowly Damian abides, sinking against him a little more, careful not to give too much.

Such frigidness is too prudent for Tardif, the axeman looking for more contact, taking the flagellant’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“This alright,” he asks, watching him through eyelets of metal.

Damian nods, incapable of words, a knot in his throat.

“Go on then, show me yer grip.”

A chuckle, the priest exasperated, resting his head on an argyle clad shoulder, the coolness of his armor helping to cool the heat of his brow.

“Are we to turn this into a lesson too,” he says, finally finding his voice, squeezing Tardif’s fingers just for a second, a pulse.

“If ye want.”

“And what is it you mean to teach me this time?”

The brute turns this over in his mind, having nothing prepared for the occasion, but finding some scrap of knowledge to share.

“Some say it's the eyes, but it's really our hands that give us away.”

“Do they,” Damian asks, touch slipping further down, toying with the hem of his partner's glove, lured by the warmth that resides within.

“Look at wot they reach for,” the brute continues, conscious of his partner’s every move, curious of how far he'll push, “if they shake or twitch.”

The flagellant strokes at the liminal space, where the fabric of his sleeve meets his skin, seeking more allowance, but unable to pursue it, hindered by form fitting leather.

Tardif slips it off for him, bearing the fullness of his hand and Damian gasps at it, tracing over the black and red of his tattoos, idols he's only witnessed from afar.

He can feel where the ink lines are heaviest, the color thicker there, how the roughness of his skin brushes against his own, the scruff of hair that fills the gaps between.

“What do yours say?”

“Why don't ye tell me,” Tardif challenges, letting the man explore, figure it out for himself.

“You're stubborn,” he assesses, tracing over the numerous callouses embedded unto his palm, “but strong,” now over the wide berth of knuckles, broken and worn, “and cunning,” ending with the spaces between his fingers, tracing over the dips and waves.

“Not bad. Ye forgot well-endowed.”

“Tardif,” the flagellant scolds, pinching the skin on the back of his hand in recompense.

“Heh, it's true.”

“Besides the point.”

“Proves my point. Never heard a woman gossip about a man's hands and feet?”

Perhaps, but he never gave much credit to such crude gossip.

“Just, tell me about mine.”

“Did bandage yer feet that one time and judgin’ by what I saw –”

“Speak one more word and I'll–”

“– Alright, alright; just wanted to tease ye a bit.”

Damian huffs, stewing with frustration, so focused on it that he doesn't pick up on Tardif tracing over the patchwork of scars etched into the expanse of his own hand, not until he's speaking aloud.

“Yer overbearin’, reckless, stickin’ yer damn hand in a cage no matter how hard it bites back.”

He's starting to think Tardif is using this exercise as a means to insult him, that is until he hears the next bit, digits streaking down the dried blood on his nails, “ye cling to pain because ye think it makes ye better, but yer brave ‘nough wit’out it.”

“So,” the priest drawls, “more endowed than you.”

“Heh, hey,” the gruff warrior cackles, elbowing him in the side.

The flagellant is smirking, possessing the bigger wit when the bounty hunter takes him by the chin, his shrine of cracked teeth faltering, Tardif claiming the last word as they press against his lips.

“Guess we'll have to wait and see.”

The flagellant is getting better, now that the jitters of their first kiss have passed. He's pressing back, their lips connecting harder, longer, but there's still softness in it, ephemeral wings that brush sweetly over his.

Tardif's wayward fingers graze over jagged serrations, making his partner gasp and shudder, the flagellant breaking away to breathe heavily into the crook of his neck, trying not to moan and yet it heralds a pathetic whimper.

They keep gearing each other up and then letting it cool, the spike of passion reduced to a more manageable smolder, taking intermittent breaks in between to snuggle or gab about whatever comes to mind.

This pattern continues on well into the night, the bounty hunter careful not to overstep his bounds and drive the flagellant away, but they've grown too attached, lenient, about to fall asleep out here.

“Should head back,” Tardif suggests and Damian simply nods, following the other's lead.

The blanket is returned to its proper place, the two making the trip back to town under a blackened sky and twinkling diamond dust.

Tardif had kept his glove off, putting it away in his pocket because he intends to reclaim the flagellant's hand, chasing after the feeling of it in his.

The other man is startled, fire when they touch, gripping back shyly, their joined hands swinging jovially between them.

At this, their pace slows, dragging the time out, spending more of it together.

When they stop, it's just below the abbey, the chipped granite of it's stairway calling Damian to it.

Tardif takes another scrappy hand in his, coupling two for two, rubbing over bruised knuckles in sober repetitions.

“It's gonna be a long week,” he sighs, wondering how he'll survive nearly two hundred hours of longing.

“It will be worth the wait,” assures the other.

“Better be,” Tardif barks, but it's playful, jaunty.

“You have my word.”

It should be dark enough to conceal what he's about to do, free from any wandering eyes that might protest his next move.

Raw instinct has Damian leaning into that broad chest, giving his partner a farewell kiss on the cheek, adding another light peck afterwards because it's becoming a signature of his, to give back twice as much as he receives.

The bounty hunter plants a big fat one on him to match, parting them with a wet smack, tasting copper and salt, making the flagellant chuckle.

“Six more days,” the brute drawls, the wait already proving to be a painful one.

“Seven,” Damian corrects, prolonging his torture, “The week doesn't begin until tomorrow.”

He swears, the flagellant is doing everything in his power to turn him into a masochist too.

“Can ye blame me, for wantin’ to shorten it?”

“No, not at all.”

Thready whispers of yearning as the priest bestows one last caress of pious lips, Tardif closing arms around the splintered cuts of a narrow waist, hoping to keep him there for as long as he can.

As the holy man pulls away, the two share a potent, lasting gaze, hoping it will sustain the cruel passage of time.

“Goodnight, Tardif.”

“Hn, night.”

One final squeeze of a destitute hand before the reverent flagellant leaves him, watching bandaged legs ascend the church steps in all his shaggy robed glory, burning the ascetic sight into his eyes.

He waits until he sees the baroque doors open, the warm glow emanating from within, knowing Damian will be safe for the night and dammit doesn't the holy man look back to find Tardif still standing there at the bottom of the landing like a lovestruck fool.

They're too far apart to see the expression on the other’s face, but it doesn't matter, they both feel it welling in their hearts, the last brush of their fingers a constant looping thought inside his mind.

[strawberry-tuesdhays]

✨🌼🌺❤️✂️🧊+one of your choosing for anybody !!

these are all going to be about the Ari in space crew, bc they're once again at the front of my brain :)

✨ how did i come up with their names?

Ari - a name that i like, just generally :)

Hie - eir name is a pun, actually! eir true name is like, a psychic impression of the sun directly overhead, but ey picked Hie as a phonetic name, so it's– [cowboy voice] it's Hie noon–

Gindrel, Wil, Bevis, and Spyne - i thought about the sounds that would be possible for them to make, and just assembled phonemes from there lol

🌼 how old are they?

they all age at different rates, so I'm putting the equivalent maturity or whatever :)

Ari - 20 (they think)

Gindrel - early 30's

Wil - early 50's

Hie - ??? (age is a lot more ambiguous for eir species, because of memory sharing things)

Bevis - late 30's

Spyne - mid 20's

🌺 any love interests?

not in any conventional kind of way :)

the closest thing is Ari and Gindrel's relationship. they latched onto each other as soon as they met, since they were both isolated and suffering. having each other for company was a lifesaver for them both <3

Ari - probably has things to realize about their (a)sexual/(a)romantic orientation, but is too busy being tormented by the narrative

Gindrel - has had the occasional fling, but travels a lot for work, so hen doesn't really have any long term romances, and that's ok :)

Wil - forever a single auntie <3

Hie - is fascinated by romance as a concept, but it's extremely foreign to em

Bevis - ih simply has no interest in a long term partner, but is interested in having close friends and a strong community

Spyne - does want that kind of deep connection with someone, but ih's way too proud to ever admit it

♥️ best memory?

Ari - getting matching earrings with Gindrel (symbolizing an ambiguous familial connection)

Gindrel - insane snowball fights with hens siblings (since hen comes from a tundra planet, snow fights get intense)

Wil - taking care of owlets, and teaching them weapons safety (there's a rotation system in kems home community, where various adults care for different chicks, once they're old enough. ke was very much the fun, chaotic aunt)

Hie - a community memory of a big celebration

Bevis - meeting Ari (a real live terran!!! just like from ihns research and forums!!!)

Spyne - winning a bet and a race with two jerry rigged hover crates

✂️ worst memory?

Ari - getting kidnapped into space and isolated for months

Gindrel - when hens grandparent signed hen up for military service, despite hen making it very clear that hen didn't want to

Wil - finding out kems mentor died, while ke was in jail for a bullshit reason

Hie - having to cut contact with loved ones, for their safety (ey got caught up in some dangerous spy work)

Bevis - the hazardous materials accident. it destroyed two of ihns arms and both of ihns antennae (the only reason ih survived was extremely advanced medical tech)

Spyne - [REDACTED] (it was a right of passage, but it was deeply traumatizing. homeworld octon culture is really fucked up)

🧊 is their current design their first one?

no! in fact, these are all their second pass of designs!

Ari got a buzz cut (their hair got matted, so they cut it off, much to Gindrel's dismay)

Gindrel got a mane and earrings

Wil got a chest puff, extra thumbs, and hearing aids

Hie changed shape entirely, from a vaguely humanoid column, to an orb with roots for legs

Bevis got more obvious missing limbs, and generally more bug like

Spyne got a proboscis, lost visible eyes, and gained feet

💼 - what do they do for a living? (my choice 🥰)

they do "specialty shipping" ;)

(it's smuggling. they transport things that are illegal, but usually not harmful)

they got into it bc Hie was on the run in a stolen cargo ship. ey kept gathering people who also happened to be on the run from various authorities. then they needed a way to make money, and they already had a cargo ship, so it was clearly the easiest option! :)

[jiminguuk]

Very long post ahead because I’m very irritated by the state of this tag. I have some thoughts. I wasn’t even going to say anything and just lurk, but Jungkook and Jimin have a very special place in my heart and I’m pissed

I think we as a society need to understand that shipping ≠ reality.

I know it’s easy to get caught up in the moments, the “evidence”, the chemistry. But you have to have a healthy dose of respect/common decency.

For example, when Taehyung said that thing to that taekooker (you know what I’m talking about). If I was clocked by bts in that regard I’d pass away. There is a line and you shouldn’t cross it.

As for the video, I’m skeptical of its legitimacy, but I’m not opposed to the idea of it being real. There’s absolutely no way of knowing if it’s true or fake without confirmation. Honestly, I think HYbe will probably ignore it and I know someone will say “it’s very telling they didn’t say anything” but really, it’s so fucking stupid.

1. The video was released very close to a release of a song (seems to be a trend) and my god that song should be the focus not the goddamn video. Whoever, whether true or not, got what they wanted.

2. It’s is insane the lengths people went through to prove it’s legitimacy/Debunk. It’s creepy, it’s terrifying. Imagine you’re Jungkook minding your business and seeing some ARMY in Ohio going through every inch of your apartment you’ve shown to prove it’s you in a grainy 144p video. What the fuck.

3. Hot Take Ahead: I’ve seen a lot of anons on different accounts asking questions/saying theories about jikooks relationship/status. Literally, what kind of fanfictional life do you think they live? “Oh I think it’s an open relationship, I think they broke up :/, it’s possible they are separated but still together” These are grown men. Who the hell cares besides Jimin and Jungkook. Who the fuck are you to dissect their entire bond to pinpoint moments you felt they may have been on “a break”. Have you thought perhaps, I don’t know, people are busy and are unable to interact the same way they did in 2015-2019? Or maybe they aren’t around each other as much in front of cameras? Their private lives, together or not, in a relationship or not is none of our business. It is so weird to me to make these kind of claims based on interactions you see/don’t see anymore. It’s like some people think it’s a damn show. Something I always enjoyed about Jikook is how close, cute and questionable they are. But not once have I thought to track their entire “relationship” and think “oh this is when they broke up” it’s literally a ship. It’s a pairing. I’m also a Yoonjin enthusiast and I have yet to see any kind of comments similar to the ones about Jikook. Shipping is supposed to be fun. It shouldn’t be dissected and analyzed to fit a narrative.

4. If I have to see one more post about JK being a fuck boy/ disrespectful to women or Jimin being heartbroken I’ll pull my hair out. How do you know? Song lyrics? Really? You think every single thing is connected to each other? It can’t be separate? Could Jimin be singing about a past relationship he was in not related to JK? Could JK’s songs be written for a western audience that thrives on that type of music? It would be great if we could separate art from ships. Not everything is about the ship, because quite frankly, I doubt they even think about it when creating shit. (I will say I did lose my mind over that JM tattoo in the seven MV lmafo, but that was because whenever I see it I gasp. I know the tattoo has been debunked or whatever but god it gets me in the feels) It’s must be so frustrating to be tied to a ship whenever you create a piece of art.

5. I’ll forever be a jikooker at heart for the fact I absolutely adore the pairing/ship. But I’m not going to sit here and pretend that they owe me the satisfaction of being true. I will take my crumbs and be happy because, really, that’s what it’s for. Everything from hickey gate to the fish in the clouds to the traveling around the globe for a birthday. Until proven otherwise, I’ll always have 👀 on them and continue to be a supporter but I’m not going to thrust my hand into believing that they are 100% together because I have absolutely no way of knowing it’s a fact.

Finally: 1. Who ft. Jikook never got the attention it deserved 2. Jimin is literally God reincarnated 3. Yoonjin is so Cam/Mitchell, Rei/Kazuki, Gojo/Nanami coded. Prove me wrong.

[sambucko]

Fic Prompt (Not sure everyone will like it):

Sam and Bucky have been not-so secretly seeing each other but haven’t defined the relationship yet. One afternoon, they’re in the Avengers HQ, in comes Jennifer Walters with a dashing Matt Murdock following suit. Matt hears a heartbeat and whispers “Sam”. Jennifer stops and says “You know Cap?”.

We hear Sam and Bucky coming into the room when Sam stops and excitedly say “Matt?” and goes to hug him. Bucky is confused. Jennifer asks what’s going on and they reveal that they used to hookup but then decided to be friends. Immediately Bucky exhumes jealousy.

Jen is excited (Her and Matt are going out but) in true Jen fashion she says “Oh lord I’d tap that ass too if I had the chance”. Bucky all but growls “he is my boyfriend!”. Sam turns to him “Oh I don’t remember being asked to be someone’s boyfriend” jokingly grinning in old true fashion Sam style. “Better get on that Barnes, God knows I regret not asking” Matt says and him and Sam share a look but quickly passes.

Jennifer punches him lightly but she’s not that mad. Matt apologizes to Jen obviously, he’s not that cocky. Bucky leaves the room. Matt follows, telling Sam he’ll handle it. Sam and Jen haver a very fun and special conversation and just them being friends cause I need it.

Matt finds Bucky at the gym, sitting down on a bench with his head on his hands. “Get out” Bucky says and he fights and fusses for a bit but eventually let’s Matt talk about when Sam and Matt were hooking up and he wasn’t ready to be in a commited relationship like Sam wanted. That in the end Sam understood and they decided to remain friends even tho they hadn’t been keeping in touch lately. Buck’s like “I don’t wanna lose him”. Matt’s like “then you better get your shit together”. Buck’s like (self sabotaging Barnes) “maybe he deserves someone like you, maybe you should try again” and Matt’s like “man I’ve never heard Sam’s heartbeat like it beats when he’s around you. You’re it for him whether you like it or not, so you better start believing you deserve him as much as he deserves you and start defining this before he finds someone else who appreciates him. And he will find someone, he’s Sam Wilson for christ’s sake.”

Bucky goes to finds Sam and I got to that point of the story. If someone wants to write this I’d love you forever. If it’s crap, I understand haha my brain is fried with midterms rn. If no one writes this maybe I will in the future. Or maybe just someone please write Jen and Sam nonsense and that will be perfect. Love you all.

[unnursvanablog]

Good Omens, season 2 / tv show review

This is not a spoiler free opinion on the the second season Good Omens

Although I was excited about this new series of Good Omens I did have my doubts and wondered how it would all turn out. The first series used the entire story that Gaiman and Pratchett had written in the novel, so there was nothing left to build the season two story on. However, there was another book that those friends had planning that never came out and one can always depend on Gaiman to be able to churn out a decent plot.

But somehow one might find it hard to see much of that plotting in season two of Good Omens, because there really isn't much meat on the bones when it comes to the multi-threaded narrative, stakes and such things that season one had to offer and it becomes very much just a way for the actors to play with the back story of the main characters and chemistry that Tennant and Sheen have have with each other. And since most people were tuning into Good Omens for that very reason (to see Tennant and Sheen together) there's not much more to the story and everything comes together at a steady but pleasant pace with very little stakes; becoming the ultimate cozy fantasy with a very slow-burn romance.

At first you almost don't notice the near lack of plot because there's still that little hint of a mystery that the main character have to solve and it hasn't hit you yet that it's all just a fluff. But by the middle it's become a little obvious that this puzzle that the main characters are solving and the various side stories are don't any urgency, or stakes to then. Which makes it all seem aimless at times. But despite the lack of highly thought-out plots, I can't say there wasn't any character exploration going on in the second season of Good Omens - even if those characters didn't have as much of an arc or room to grow as characters we get a good feel for their values, why they are they way they are ​​and their sense of the world and other things that do play a significant role within the story and explains certain decisions later on.

I also have to note the interesting use of romantic subplots this season with characters that almost mirror the two main character in terms of personality traits or aesthetics and how that love story affected or somewhat mirrored the relationship of the main characters in this will-this-happen-or-not relationship that Crowley and Aziraphale have. The ultimate slow-burn romance, which I really enjoy watching.

I thought for a long time that Gaiman was doing this (as well as another relationship that also manages to mirror the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale a bit) to make up for the fact that nothing was really going to happen right away with between these two immortal beings which is the glue that holds this story together, but it didn't turn out which I thought was great. I didn't expect it and I would have liked more than what we got with a better core story, but it still made my heart skip a beat. And I thought every little hint of this with the side shots and the mirrors was neat and well done by Gaiman.

Now, despite Pratchett and Gaiman started planning the sequel of Good Omens long before Pratchett passed away and the TV show existed and I applaud Gaiman as a writer this series felt like fluffy fanfic and as a bridge between the first and third series and the true, real plot of it all is all in the third season. That does not take away from the fun of it, but it got a bit frustrating towards the end. It never felt like a whole, complete story like the first one, which was frustrating.

It's fan service with a rather flimsy plot, but episodes easy to watch, there's good humor there, and you can literally watch Tennant and Sheen together on screen forever because they are just so good together. This is for the most part, if you don't focus too much on the plot that just sort of there, a very pleasant viewing experience. I just wanted something a little more complex, a little more plot and a little more risk to it all; not some bridge for something big in season three (because what if it just doesn't happen).

[magdelenarhodes]

CHARACTER INFORMATION:

FULL NAME: Magdelena Rhodes

NICKNAMES: Del, Lena

PRONOUNS AND GENDER: Cis woman, she/her

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

OCCUPATION: Librarian

TL;DR:

TRIGGER WARNING(S): CAR ACCIDENT, DEATH  

kind of sad girl hours forever

from small town ohio, comes from a home where her parents loved her, but barely tolerated each other.

spent most of her life lying – about her home, about her family. spent most of time reading and losing herself in fictional words that seemed a little better and a little easier.

she was really, truly honest with one person – a kid named eric who moved in next door, and who she subsequently spent almost every waking moment with after.

her dad passed away suddenly when she was in high school, and eric was the only person who was able to pull her out of that grief. her mom was dealing with a lot of shit on her own, and had never really learned to parent, despite taking a somewhat passable run of it for all of del’s life.

she and eric went off to college together, making all their dumb plans about the rest of their lives. she had loved him for most of the time they’d known each other, but she was waiting to say it. or maybe she wasn’t – maybe she never intended to say it at all.

eric was killed in a car crash after their college graduation.

without eric, del didn’t know who she was. still doesn’t, in all the ways that matter.

there was no one to pull her out of this one. seeking anything, she joined a small online support group. but she joined the group with a different name, a different job, with a different relationship to the person she’d lost. it felt too vulnerable to enter that world as del rhodes, who lost her best friend. lena rivers who lost her fiancé felt easier.

as lena, she made a friend. a real friend – someone who really understood.

she had a lot of time to tell sam the truth. a lot of time, and even more opportunities. she hadn’t expect their late night talks to last for days, much less years.

after eight of them, she made the decision to finally meet up with him in person. she packed up her life in hilltop, and rented to first one bedroom apartment in philly.

personality wise, she’s a very lost person. she wants to be good, she wants to do the right thing, but her own insecurities keep her from it more often than not.

FUN DUMB STATS:

Birthday: June 30, 1992

Zodiac Sign: Cancer ☉ | Cancer ☽ | Libra➶  

MBTI: ISFP

Enneagram: Type 2

Temperament: Melancholic

Moral Alignment: True neutral

Element: Air

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

someone she’s actually honest with

new friends

coworkers

drinking buddies

absolutely anything

ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS:

person she’s been catfishing for the past eight years - sam loftgren

FULL BIOGRAPHY:

Magdelena Rhodes is a true cautionary tale of parents staying together for their kid, only to the absolute detriment of everyone involved. Growing up, her whole life had been a sort of pretending – a one-man show for an audience of none. She saw the life she wanted in classmates, saw the parents she wished for in the drop off and pick up zones. She was in the second grade when she started to pretend her life resembled the ones she was so jealous of. She had always been good at losing herself in another life.

Her parents did love her, she thought. They just had difficulty navigating that love in their hatred for each other. They’d had her young, before they really had an understanding of themselves, much less before they understood each other. Desperate to do right by their burgeoning family, they got married and bought a doublewide they could barely afford. None of that changed the fact that they were just fundamentally different people. Her dad was a serious man – stoic to the point of seeming unfriendly, and contemplative to the extent of nearly being mute until he found the right way to say what he meant. Her mother was the opposite – she was a woman of extremes, flying so high some days that she seemed like the sun in the Rhodes household. Other days, she didn’t leave bed. Their daughter was their only common ground, but it wasn’t enough. It took Del nearly a lifetime to realize it never would’ve been.

They tried, in their own ways. But they were just pretending, too. Her mom liked to take her to movies after school sometimes when her dad came home early – a thinly-veiled gambit to spend less time with the man she married when she was newly eighteen years old. Her dad took her for ice cream whenever her mom was out later than either of them expected, and drove around until Magdelena fell asleep in the car. It wasn’t until she was older that she realized he was hoping she would be too tired by the time they got back to their double-wide to hear the subsequent argument through the paper thin walls. He wanted it to work so badly that del pretended it did.

She found real solace in a neighbor. Before his family had even finished unloading the moving van, Eric Atwater was in her yard with a baseball and asking if she wanted to play catch. For a second, she felt the itching self-consciousness that hadn’t left since the first sleepover she attended at another kid’s house. She was too aware of the holes in the trailer’s vinyl siding, the ground under her feet being more dirty and mud than grass, the old barely-running Astrovan in the front yard. But then she looked at Eric’s house and saw the shattered window held together by duct tape that was older than either of them, the dry rotted wood of the two stairs by his front door. She decided to play catch after all.

Eric was the first person to tell a young Magdelena that her name sounded like an old lady, and declared that he was going to call her Del. She let him, and by the end of their first summer as friends, she barely answered to anything else from anyone. She saw him every single day that first summer, making up dumb games that they were both terrible at, especially because they both kept changing the rules. When school started, they were just as inseparable. They shoved their desks together in any classes they shared – an act of short-lived rebellion that ended with them being seated all the way across the room from each other in almost every instance. Other kids came and went, their circle of friends growing and shrinking all the time, but Del and Eric remained.

Eric was her best friend, and she’d spent most of her life being in love with him. Del always thought he knew – thought there would be a day when she finally worked up the courage to say it. He punched her first boyfriend when he caught him kissing another girl under the bleachers at their freshman year homecoming game. Del wrote every single paper he needed to get his AP English credit. They protected each other in the way only kids who had always been fending for themselves could.

When her dad died, Eric was the only one who was able to reach her. He took her for ice cream, ordering rum raisin – a flavor she’d always hated as a kid, but had been her dad’s favorite. When just the smell of it made Del break down, he asked what her dad’s favorite song had been. They listened to that old Cat Stevens album on repeat, Eric squeezing her hand when Father and Son came on. Later, he drove them around until his car ran out of gas. Pushing the old Corolla up the hill was the first time Del laughed since he passed, tears streaming down her face until she was no longer sure what emotion was pouring out of her. It hadn’t been what she wanted in her grief – but she’d needed it.

They went off to the same college, his U of O acceptance letter hanging on her wall, and hers on his. Everyone assumed they would end up together one day, even as they both protested. She wondered if her objections rang more hollow than his. Nothing had ever happened between them – nothing more than holding hands in the way kids do on the playground with someone they met only moments ago. That was alright by Del. She suspected one day she would be the best man at his wedding, and when she smiled, she would mean it. That’s how they worked.

But Eric left her, too. The summer after their college graduation, he was killed in a car accident. It was on impact, she’d been told – like it was supposed to lessen her grief. Like there was anything inside her that could find comfort in a world without Eric.

He had been eleven days older, and by nature, eleven days wiser, he’d insisted when they were kids. The twelfth day after he passed was the hardest – the day Magdelena Rhodes became one day older than Eric would ever be.  She was just twenty-two, and the only person who had ever really known her was gone, and all she had left of him was a sweatshirt that was starting to smell more like her and less like him. She was, she thought, too young to understand her mother’s blackout days.

It was on the twelfth day after he died that Del did something that would shape the rest of her life going forward. She found a support group online – a tiny little forum where a group of lost people tried to navigate their grief together. She felt like a person outside of her body when she started to type – watched herself build someone new in the hollow place Del had once filled. She watched as Lena rivers took shape, a photojournalist from Boulder who lost her fiancé. She hadn’t expected to need her for long, this fictional woman who let her hide in her shadow. Someone who was brave enough to say everything she’d choked on. Someone who wasn’t afraid. Against her better judgment, in her clawing desperation, Del made a friend. Sam, whether he meant to or not, became her lifeline. It was after the first time they stayed up messaging back and forth all night that she should’ve told the truth – but she didn’t. Even as their IMs turned to texts, and texts turned to calls. Even when their messages were the only thing that got her out of bed some days – even when they crawled out of their grief together.

Life was moving forward, and Del was finally moving with it. She got a job at the library back in Hilltop, and she pretended that she didn’t imagine Eric around every corner. That she didn’t still hear the echo of his laughter down long hallways. It would’ve been worse if she didn’t, she thought. Feeling okay again felt like a betrayal, an act of treason she wasn’t sure she would ever find herself committing. But weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, and the quiet spaces found silence again. She still went to see him, though. She lost hours and sometimes entire days sitting with her back against his headstone, reading him books she knew he would like, and sometimes ones she knew he would hate in a childlike hope of him making good on his promise to haunt her if he died first.

She stopped telling people how much she went to see him, even when they asked. She hated the way the pity she’d already resented shifted into judgment. But she told Sam. Sam, who never made her feel like she was pathetic. Sam, who never made her feel like she was anything but understood. At least, Sam made Lena feel seen. Lena, who was a widow and still found adventures in her life. Not Del, who had come to feel like pretending her friendship with Eric had been anything more diminished it. Del, who only found adventures in books. That guilt started to eat away at the edges of her, chipping away any of her flimsy resolve that she would never have to come clean – that her honesty would be worse for them both.

It took Del eight years to decide it was time for the truth. The kind of truth she owed Sam from the start, and had never found a way to say. In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, she backed herself into a corner she couldn’t get out of. She quit her job at the library in Hilltop, letting the lease on her tiny, cluttered apartment run out. She couldn’t stay here forever – she’d been telling herself that since Eric died. Even if they’d made a grade-school blood promise to never go where the other couldn’t follow. As she sat with him for what would be the last time for a long time, finger tracing along that jagged scar on her palm, she gently reminded him that he broke their promise first. Her car was already loaded, but at that moment, she felt herself wavering. She felt the weight of everything she was leaving behind, and the more crushing burden of everything she still had to do.

Still, she did it. The drive took days, and so many times she found herself doing the math of exactly how much time it would take her to get back. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected of Philadelphia – who she expected herself to be in Pennsylvania. There was an undeniable edge of disappointment when she’d crossed so many state lines, and still carried Del Rhodes with her. Even as she signed a new lease – three months, enough time to change her mind, if she needed to. She got a job at the library. She was, despite her protestations, putting down roots. Still, she hasn’t found the courage to send the ‘i’m here, let’s meet up’ text. One step at a time.

VIBES:

pinterest | playlist

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

🧥 & 🍎 for October themes asks pls ❤️

🧥 warm coat: share a happy or fuzzy scene from your wip!

Here's a scene in Seventh Virtue where Foster & Harrison "break in" to a library after-hours. This library is very fancy! Also, Harrison slanders my one true love, poetry, in this excerpt. I'm as shocked as anyone else! Also, the range of Feeding Habits Harrison to Seventh Virtue Harrison astounds me.

Funnily enough, Foster does find drinks. Not far from the army of chaise lounges is a small beverage cart armed with a kettle and dozens of flavoured tea and hot chocolates, some too ridiculous for Harrison to imagine tasting like Peach Cheesecake and Pinecone.

“What in the fuck is pinecone tea?” he asks as Foster passes him a boring cup of earl grey.

“I don’t want to know.” Foster stretches out on one of the chairs across from Harrison, balancing a stack of books in one hand and his own mug of tea in the next.

“What’ve you got there, Einstein?”

“Rooibos. Rich in antioxidants, great for inflammation, low in caffeine—”

“No, genius,” Harrison says, and points to the stack of multicoloured books. “Your summer reading list over there.”

Foster rests his cup on the table between the clump of chairs and sits up. First, he holds up an older looking volume, the green cover worn and bilgy. “Encyclopedia of Herbs, Trees, and Flowers,” he says, and Harrison groans. “What’s the issue? We could be here for a while—maybe I want to help the Petersons garden.”

“I don’t think they need your help,” Harrison says, recalling the garden he’d noticed rimming the library. Blooms he’s only ever seen in pictures overwhelmed the building’s red brick.

Foster rests the encyclopedia onto the table and holds up the next one. “The Essential Neruda. For when I want to laugh, cry, and pine at the same time.”

“Poets disgust me,” Harrison says, already bored.

“Harrison.”

“What? Nothing against this Neruda dude, but who gives a shit about pretty words? Get to the point.”

*raise your hand if you give a shit about pretty words*

🍎 apple: let’s talk about friendship in your wip. do you have any favorite friend/platonic dynamics? any friendships gone sour?

This is the perfect segue! Foster and Harrison are so hilarious to write, but something I love about them in SV is that I actually get to write them again. For several years, Foster wasn’t really part of the series anymore, and was a character I couldn’t even remember to write because the series had gotten so serious and he didn’t really have a place (except when he’s very briefly mentioned in Feeding Habits, where their relationship has funnily enough, gone sour). They’ve been best friends since forever, and love each other very, very deeply. They also make fun of each other, as noted above!

Another dynamic I LOVE is Reeve and Harrison. Reeve and Harrison together are just an absolute disaster. I love it. Literally zero critical thinking skills! Literally no care for consequence! Together, they destruct, and it’s kind of amazing. They also deeply understand each other in a way that is kind of otherworldly. They’ve always been my favourite pairing because of how fiercely protective they are over each other! My faves <3

[eternal-nyx]

How could something this beautiful, be wrong?

As a member of multiple minority communities (disabled, neurodivergent, queer, etc.), I often surround myself with like minded folk who I can connect with deeper. This unfortunately means that sometimes, I tend to “forget to remember” that people outside of my circles still exist.

Last night, as I lay in bed in the arms of my fiancé, I had one of these “surreal” moments. We were laying in bed after a long and hard day. She was exhausted from work and chores and almost asleep. I was laid across her breasts and shoulders, holding her head closely and massaging her hair. Her hand clasped my wrist and her thumb drew circles on my hand as she drifted. As I started to drift into sleep myself, I felt my body grow heavier and melt into hers. We were one in that moment, perfectly blended and sharing a moment of love, bliss, peace, and hushed whispers of sweet nothings and affirmations of love. A rare form of intimacy that just forms on its own and and builds this intense, emotional moment in time. I smiled in my half-sleep state and pulled her tighter. For awhile I just existed and let myself feel her warmth. I drew outlines of our bodies in my head with my eyes closed and could not find where she ended and I began. I was surrounded in warmth and comfort and love. I could’ve passed peacefully in that moment.

I kissed her shoulder and thought, “How could anyone think something this beautiful, could be bad? This woman saved me from a 10 year abusive relationship. She helped me and my 4 year old escape. She provided me a warm and safe place to grow into myself and explore and become me again. She encourages me everyday to grow and treats me with such gentleness. She provides a guiding hand, and a comforting shoulder. She lets me stumble and fall and mess up and work on myself, but never let’s me fail. She’s always there, ready to lift me up and put me back on my feet. She’s shown me more love and acceptance than anyone in my life ever has. Our relationship is the healthiest I have ever been in. The way we communicate, there is no room for misunderstandings or arguments. We talk about everything, from the hard, to the easy, to the fun. Hell, one of our relationship “motto’s” that we say to each other is “the good, the bad, and the ugly. Forever and Always.” She is my rock. She saved my life and showed me what it means to live for ME again. I have happiness and security in my relationship. I have individuality and freedom that I haven't felt in over a decade. This is true happiness. So how on earth could this be wrong?”

I pushed the thoughts aside and gave myself fully to the moment and soon drifted to sleep in the arms of my girl. But I woke up with that one thought still on my mind. “How could anyone say this is wrong?”

Logically I understand of course. I understand the views of others, and cultures, religion, etc. But mentally I just can’t seem to grasp it.

[i-give-radiohead]

Night on the Galactic Railroad (1985)

I'll discuss the extent of the movie so, obviously, spoiler warning.

Adapted from the novel under the same name by Kenji Miyazawa, the film follows two strained friends as they journey across the galaxy in a magical train. I watched this initially because the art direction seemed to be right just up my alley (also: cute cats!) but ended up with a heart-wrenching story about friendship, purpose and spirituality.

Giovanni (blue) is an outsider in his own hometown. With a bedridden mother and a father gone on a fishing trip, he's ridiculed and excluded by his classmates. On the day of the Festival of Stars, while his classmates go out and have fun, he sets on looking for the milk delivery so he can tend to his mother. We also meet Campanella (pink) early on, while he does not mock or laugh at Giovanni as his classmates do, he does not help him either. It is stated that they used to be pretty close but it's unknown why the friends parted ways.

Having been told to come later at the dairy for his mother's milk, Giovanni lies down in a hill. He's interrupted when a train heads his way. Confused he boards it only to find Campanella is also there. As the train advances , taking both boys in a journey across the galaxy, they meet different characters and see impossible views. They stumble upon archaeologists digging up fossils in a world of sand, a man that catches birds and turns them into candy for a living and a pair of siblings and their tutor who have died in a ship wreck and are on their way to heaven.

As things get more surreal the topics of the film also deepen. It's main focus is Giovanni's and Campanella's relationship in which the later is clearly keeping a secret, one even him might not know about. The friends quickly find that their mutual feelings are still there, almost as if they too cannot understand what could have possibly driven them apart before and promise to each other to be together forever.

A recurring topic among their trip is death and religion. There's the dead kids who are finally heading home, to the christian heaven after their tragic passing. They also tell the story about the Burning Scorpion, who regretted not doing anything good for others in his life so bowed to burn forever as a beacon. Fascinated by the trip, Giovanni seeks nothing else but to continue traveling with Campanella. But when Campanella spots his mother in the entrance of the "true heaven", he realizes that, unlike Giovanni, he cannot stay on the train forever. When Campanella leaves the train, Giovanni is unable to understand why he cannot follow him. As their promise is broken, Giovanni stares in despair as his best friend leaves him on the train.

Giovanni wakes, realizing he fell asleep in the field while he waited for the milk, and that the whole adventure had merely been a dream. But when he gets to town he hears news that Campanella has fallen in the river. When he gets to the shore he realizes it's too late and as the search ends he finally understand his dream. He vows to be just like the scorpion of the story and even in death, believes his promise with Campanella still stands, if anything all the stronger.

I'd expected a wonderful animation but not such a tragic story too. It's deep and honest, more so than one would expect from a children's book or at least for me: someone who grew up hearing fancy and all-too-good fairytales. Death, purpose and friendship (although probably something more than friendship if we are being honest) come together to tell a beautiful story, urging the viewers ultimately to choose kindness.

[theresidualhope]

Had the thought to keep a bit of documentation on where my head is and my general thoughts on life and the goings-on at the moment. Not sure how frequently I’ll post these, but here it is:

Six Months of Grief and a Lifetime to Go:

“I’ve often thought of loss as a kind of language. Once learned, it’s never forgotten.” - Anderson Cooper

I have no idea how to open this section, but over the past few months of sifting through and sorting out grief, I came across this quote by Anderson Cooper. He (and his podcast All There Is with Anderson Cooper) has spoken some great insight into the grieving process. If you’re unfamiliar with his story, his early life was dominated with tragedy and loss.

The quote here has rung true and shines a light on multiple characteristics that grief holds. First of all, loss is absolutely something that is foreign to those who haven’t experienced it. That’s not a knock on the well-wishes and condolences passed along from those who have never had the intimate relationship with grief/loss, it’s simply saying there’s a difference between the occasional duolingo session and being dropped into the middle of a foreign city without a smartphone or translator. Sudden loss is the latter.

This past weekend marked the sixth-month anniversary of losing my dad. Six months is both way too short and way too long to think of the time that has passed. It has marked a foundational shift in my perspective on life but even mentioning that feels like avoiding the bigger elephant in the room – I straight up miss my dad, daily. Now, it’s a feeling that I’ve made some peace with – it doesn’t derail entire days anymore but it still touches most of the thoughts and interactions I have from day-to-day. It gets its moment in the sun every so often but even then it’s something I’ve come to welcome. Those feelings of intense emotion are a reminder of the impact and importance he held in my life. I feel closer to him after facing those feelings head-on, regardless of how disruptive and intrusive they sometimes feel.

The biggest area of my shift in perspective has been how I interact and care for my own son, Noah. He’s 16-months old and was the absolute joy of his grandpa’s life during the ten short months they shared. It’s bittersweet, but the memories and pictures and videos and messages that I have (now and forever) of the two of them together are (and will maintain) some of the most cherished I will ever have. I’m equally excited for and choked up thinking about telling Noah all about Dad and sharing those memories and pictures and videos and messages with him to make sure he knew just how special his grandpa knew he is and was. I make sure to tell Noah each and every day that he is loved by me and so many others. The realization that every interaction I get with him (both the fun and not-so-fun) is a gift hits home in such a different way today than it did seven months ago. Valuing every day has become something that I emphasize and delight in as much as I can.

I’ve heard it said that grief is a fog– and it is, no doubt. But six months out and starting to emerge from the haze, I don’t ever want anything to cloud my vision on what I prioritize moving forward. Finding joy in the circumstance I find myself and in the blessings that I have. Joy in the ones I have around me and in the memory of those I no longer do.