#'oh you should get married' no. 'you should join in the religious life so that it can bring status and honor to the family' also no.

[bimbobaggins69]

𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔

priest eddie munson x nun reader

♱ summary: after a life of chaos and sin, eddie finds comfort in the one thing he never thought he would, religion. But what happens once he gives his life to god and swears off all of his old vices before finding the one person that makes him question whether it was worth it.

♱ warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, fem reader, no use of y/n, use of pet names, religious themes, slight religious trauma, reader was forced to become a nun, mentions of drugs, fingering, unprotected p in v, slight lil daddy kink, cream pie, fluffff, overuse of italics but what else is new? Pls do not read if any of the above sounds offensive to you, you are in control of your own media consumption.

♱ authors note: just a little something to feed my priest eddie brainrot, hope you like! A special thank you to my beautiful beta’s @take-everything-you-can , @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @corrodedcorpses <3

♱ wc: 3.7k

The first time Eddie had ever seen you, he thought it was a fluke. Of course he’d see the most beautiful girl, after he had taken a vow of chastity and was in the works to become a priest.

It felt as though God was taunting him for all of the sinning he had done as a teen and young adult. Dangling something he could now never have, right in front of his face. Oh, cruel world.

He should be used to this, the feelings of disappointment and utter longing. For most of high school and some time after, he was used. Used for the things he had that people wanted: sex, drugs, and the few rare instances girls dated him just to piss off their parents. But never has he been wanted, adored unconditionally. After living a life like that, filled with drug binges and meaningless sex, giving his life to God seemed like a no brainer, at the time.

Eddie was impulsive however and the things that felt clear as day in the moment, seemed to blur over time.

What Eddie didn’t know was that you had already planned your escape route. You had grudgingly been pressured by your late father to join the “family business”. He had become a priest when you were five and since then he’s had your life mapped out for you; become a nun, work in the monastery and give your life and soul to God until it was your time to eventually meet him.

That was not the life you wanted for yourself. You wanted to fall in love and get married, have children and move far away from this town that has brought you nothing but shame and guilt.

“Excuse me, uh I believe this belongs to you.” A voice echoes through the empty chapel, making your shoulders jolt at the startling interruption of your most sacred thoughts. Your veiless head snaps towards the voice in fear, as you were not to be in the church without your veil, it was a symbol of modesty that your convent took very seriously.

What you found was not an angry priest, deacon or catechist but a student priest. His kind eyes and gentle smile, long brown locks that were pulled back at the nape of his neck and his hands that were clutching at your head piece, had all simultaneously taken your breath away. There had never been anyone in the church that met his appearance. He had a bad boy turned good look that really set your insides ablaze. Whether it was a warning from God, not to stray from the path by allowing you to feel small licks of hellfire, or your subconscious begging for a reason to deviate from the life that was so carefully laid out for you, you didn't know but what you did know was this man would now become the catalyst of all your waking day dreams.

“Oh, yes my apologies, sir.” You softly smile before taking the veil and placing it securely on your head. You turn back to the big wooden cross hung above the altar you’re standing afront, before looking back into the strangers' doe pools of chocolate. “How uh, how are you enjoying your seminary studies?” You question, cheeks heating up at your terrible attempt at small talk.

“My seminary studies?” Eddie repeats with a low chuckle as his eyebrows shoot up, getting lost behind the fringe of his shaggy bangs. He cocks a wide smirk at your question, you really were as sweet and delicate as you looked. That made the future priests’ stomach flip in excitement. The need for corrupting such a cute little thing, vehemently returning. He hadn’t felt that utter desire in years. He would give this all up to watch you fall apart underneath him.

“Mmhm.” You giggle with a small nod of your head, fingers twisting together over your front from the frisson excitement bursting through your chest. You had never felt this way talking to any priests or priests in training, the rush was addicting.

“It’s going well.” The male murmurs with an unconvincing smile, his eyes glance down to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes in a fleeting moment. Your heart rate kicks up at the implication before you boldly turn towards him, your chest puffed out as the swell of your breasts are tightly hugged by the black fabric of your unflattering habit.

Eddie takes a step closer towards you, the toe of his boots brush against your black flats. His eyes roaming your fully clothed body as if he had x-ray vision and could see the black lace set you allow yourself to wear underneath, as an act of rebellion that only you were allowed a glimpse of.

His left hand slowly moves into your space, gently placing the cloth of your veil that had fallen over the front of your shoulder, back to its rightful place. The act was so tender and kind you couldn’t help but to lean closer into his touch.

The chapel was so still, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of two very enamored people, as if they finally found what they had been looking for all along. A safe place to house their hearts.

In a matter of seconds you jerk back, as footsteps ring out from the corridor, startling you out of your love filled daze. Eddie thinks on his feet, the awfully close position being far too compromising, so he takes your hand and leads you into the confession box. He covers your mouth as the footsteps grow closer, two people chattering as they walk by before leaving out of the exit, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind them.

Eddie quickly removes his hand, shooting you a sympathetic smile before the realization hits that you’re seated on his lap, half awakened cock digging into your backside causing a small gasp and unintentional clench of your thighs. A devious smile displays itself upon the brown eyed boy's lips, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And he didn’t even know you. Oh he’s fucked.

His soft lips swiftly brush up against yours, making you quickly pull away in surprise. “I can’t kiss you, I don’t even know your name.” You whisper rather unconvincingly.

“It’s Eddie, what’s your name sweetheart?” He purrs into your ear, goosebumps alite your skin as you squirm in his lap from the low timber of his voice.

You meekly recite your name as your face grows hot from his attention. “Mmm, pretty name for an even prettier girl.” He huffs before he licks his lips in anticipation. His cock now fully hard and poking into your clothed skin.

Eddie gently grabs your chin, eyes meeting yours in a powerful standoff. “May I kiss you, angel? I really need to kiss you.” The desperation dripping from his voice is enough to convince you of anything.

“Yes.” You murmur before fully straddling him, his lips find yours in a passionate frenzy as you move together like a beautiful melody.

In all of your timidness and trepidation you’ve completely forgotten how it feels to be pressed up against another body, brain empty as you enjoy the moment as it comes, you giggle between kisses at the double entendre.

“What’s so funny, huh?” Eddie says playfully, grabbing at your sides and causing a shriek of loud laughter to roll off your tongue. How was it possible that this man made you feel like a kid again, a kid you didn’t even get to be? The fleeting nostalgia is quickly interrupted when Eddie puts a finger up to your lips, a gesture that asks “do you wanna get caught?” And it almost makes you giddy, nothing this exciting ever happens to you.

“You gotta be quiet, angel. Can you do that for me?” He asks in a dominating tone that has you shuttering and weak at the knees. He swipes a gentle finger across your lips, placing it in between the two before you quickly get the hint, wrapping your plush pink pillows around his index and lightly sucking. The action has Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his head, there was no way he’d be able to hold back, not with you grinding down on his painfully hard cock while sucking on his finger.

Without much thought left in your already fucked out brain, you remove the long black cloth that you’ve despised for years, yanking it off of your shoulders and over your head. Disposing of it over your shoulder without a care in the world, you had more pressing matters at hand.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie’s breath hitches as utter shock crosses his features, his mouth drops open while his eyes roam the expanse of your body that is scarcely covered by lacey black fabric. His cock twitches underneath you, causing you to squirm, unintentionally rubbing his throbbing pink tip over your warm heat and pulling a needy moan from between your lips.

He wastes no time, bringing his hands to rub over the see through fabric that is covering your now peaked nipples before slowly moving down in a gentle but callous glide over your sides, to your hips and finally landing on your plush thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as his lips curl up in satisfaction.

“Can I touch you, baby?” He whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he desperately awaits your approval.

“Please.” You moan out into the expanse of the wooden box as you drag your slick cunt across his achingly hard cock in one more act of torment.

His fingers move before his brain, finding themselves between your legs, rubbing right over that button of pleasure that Eddie hasn’t been acquainted with, in what feels like years. He slips his hand past the black lace, digits sliding between your soaked lips and teasing at your tight little hole before he’s bringing the slick up to your swollen bud and drawing gentle circles, a loud moan erupts from your chest as the unknown pleasure consumes you.

You weren’t a virgin, despite what everyone thought of you or at least what you let them think. No one knew that you’d lost your virginity the summer of junior year. Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your strict parents or maybe just a sad attempt at being so starved for any kind of connection, you took the only one some high school boy had to offer; three minutes in the back of his beat up Pontiac.

The feelings being pulled from you by the long haired man, were unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. You would beg and plead to him until the end of times to always make you feel this good, it’s the closest to God you’ve ever felt in all of your life, how is this a sin?

“Does that feel good, angel baby?” Eddie whispers into your ear, low and seductive as his finger finally breeches your entrance, it slips in easily and without pain but the pleasure makes your hands fly up to grip at his shoulders before throwing your head back and letting out the sexiest set of moans Eddie has ever had the delight of hearing.

He slips a second digit in alongside the first, pumping in and out at a slow pace but the depth is what had your toes curling into your little black flats that were being held on by a thread, threatening to fall off of your feet at just the slightest movement. Eddie began to scissor his fingers apart, stretching you open enough to take his girth. The moans that were beginning to fill the church were downright sinful.

“I-I think I’m gonna um…” you breathe out harshly as your cheeks heat up from the words that you just can’t bring yourself to utter.

“You’re gonna what, huh? You gotta talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s goin’ on?” Eddie asks in faux concern, it’s so mocking and arrogant but it causes you to clench tightly around his fingers, sucking him in like a fucking vice.

“I’m- ah ah, I’m gonna cum!” You sob into his chest as you grind down onto his digits, fucking them into you deeper with each thrust, until your incredible high starts to feel slightly painful and overstimulating.

“Such a good girl.” Eddie praises, slipping his two fingers out of your pussy before bringing them up to his mouth and sucking dramatically as a groan of delight reverberates from his chest.

“You think you can cum on daddy’s cock like that?” He questions, his lust filled eyes bore into yours as the filthy words drip from his tongue. You should be disgusted, it should turn your stomach…but it doesn’t, not even in the slightest. Instead it amplifies your arousal and now it’s you who is desperate, yanking his vestment off of his upper body in one swift and eager motion.

With Eddie’s full chest on display, you drag your nails gently down his torso, causing a whimper to slip past his lips. He has tattoos. The revelation causes your eyes to widen. You didn’t think priests were even allowed to have tattoos, they were a sin in your convent. Although you had been fed so much propaganda throughout the years, you really couldn’t see what made them so terrible.

And you had to admit they were very attractive, certainly adding to the whole former bad boy mystique he has going on.

“You like em’?” Eddie asks as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, a glint in his eyes as they lock with yours.

“I do, father Eddie.” You purr as your hand brushes over his hard erection still locked behind the confines of his black slacks.

“Fuck.” He hisses into your neck before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, his hands reaching for your black lace thong as if he was going to slip it down and off of your body, but the sounds of fabric tearing alert you to his true intentions.

“I’ll replace those.” He says with a sinister chuckle, throwing the piece of fabric behind you to be lost in the sea of clothing beneath your feet.

“Holy shit!” The man gasps as his eyes meet your dripping center, the damp coils that sit above your mound and your little stretched hole that was done by his own hand. The view causes him to bite at his lip in animalistic hunger.

“Mmm, such a naughty boy using such foul language in a church.” You tut, having no idea where that came from but if his cheeks that have now grown a bright pink hue and the wild growl that slipped from his mouth were anything to go by, he was just as into it.

Eddie can’t take much more of your teasing so his hands slip down to the buckle keeping his slacks up, eagerly removing all of the obstacles that keep him from sheathing his cock deep into your tight little cunt.

Once he is fully released from his fabric confinement he wraps his hand around himself, giving it a few tugs before he’s smearing the large beads of precum around his tip and down his shaft, groaning from the attention he was so badly yearning for.

“You ready, baby?” He questions. Bringing his glistening, pink head to the seam of your sodden lips and rubbing the tip against your clit, before prodding it against your awaiting hole. The way your cunt sucks him in is heavenly. It was as if he was a virgin again, nothing or no one else mattered before you. The feelings settling in the young man's chest were overwhelming and terrifying but when he looked up from how his cock was coated in your wetness and into your eyes, he knew you felt it too.

You let out a breath of relief when he was finally buried to the hilt inside of you, throbbing and aching for release. Deciding to end the torment of your teasing, you begin using your knees that are roughly digging into the oak wood of the pew eddie is seated on as leverage to bounce and swirl your hips as you fuck him, so audaciously.

“Ah, ah, ah…” were the only noises leaving both of your mouths as you continuously sunk down onto Eddie’s cock. His big hands gripping the meat of your thighs as if you’d dissipate without his touch.

“Please.” You whine into the sweat slick skin of his neck, before reaching for the hair tie placed carelessly into a bun at his nape. You tug releasing his brown waves that fell just beneath his shoulders.

“Please what, my love?” That word made your head spin, you’d never been referred to as someone’s love. I mean you just met him and he probably says lots of endearing things while he’s getting laid, but it certainly made that fire in your belly kick up to blazing high levels.

“Please fuck me!” You sob, tears falling from your eyes as you get closer to your sweet release. But your legs were closer to finishing than you, as every bounce sent a searing pain from your knees up to your thighs.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m makin’ you do all the work, aren’t I?” Eddie teases with a condescending grin, making you pout and nod your head in agreement. “Here you are bein’ such a good girl, riding my cock like that and I don’t even have the decency to help you out.” He tuts, a wide smile splitting his face before the hands that were once resting on your thighs, come up and grab two rough handfuls of your ass.

He pulls your cheeks apart as he sinks down some, planting his heavy boot clad feet better onto the red carpet of the confessional box. He sends you a quick wink before he begins pounding into you with almost inhumanly, rapid thrusts making you cry out into the stuffy air.

Your hands dig into his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as he fucks you like an animal, with complete carnal hunger. A chill runs down your spine all the way to your toes as the fire in your lower stomach begins to consume you. You don’t care who hears you now, you just care about you and Eddie and working each other's bodies to gratification.

“Your close baby, I can feel it. C’mon, let go for me and cum on my cock.” He demands as his length throbs with each clench of your walls around him. He’s too close, but he’d rather die than cum before you.

“Oh! Yes, Father Eddie.” You squeak before crashing your lips into his. The long haired man’s eyes roll back into his head and a growl escapes his chest at the use of his not so future title. If he can’t have this then being a priest just won’t do, not anymore.

Eddie breaks the passion fueled kiss to suck his thumb into his mouth, slicking it up before bringing it to your swollen clit. The first gentle circle makes you jump, causing your walls to tighten even harder around him. His toes curl in his boots, he was so close, so on the edge to stuffing you full of him.

“I’m gonna cum inside your pretty little pussy, do you want that?” He asks roughly, but his eyes are so soft and so full of adoration and you want whatever he’s willing to give you.

“Yes, please Father Eddie.” You plead as you meet his thrusts, aching legs be damned. You can feel that high that’s teetering so close, you’re so desperate to fall off the edge.

“Who’s the naughty one now, huh? Begging a church priest to cum inside you? You bad girl.” He tsks, with a faint chuckle. His words knock you over the edge, coming so hard on his cock you see a white blinding light as your eyes tightly shut.

“Mm, that’s it baby!” Eddie growls, his thrusts faltering as he cums inside of you, your walls now coated with his white, hot release.

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, “oh my god!” He exasperates before wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly into him, as his softening cock is still buried inside of you.

“Shh, you can’t use the lord's name in vain in a church!” You playfully reprimand, as if what you both have just done wasn’t grounds for going straight to hell.

“Hey, watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me, young lady! Or I’ll give you ten of these…” he scolds before bringing his palm down harshly onto the sensitive skin of your ass, making you gasp in surprise. He grabs your chin tightly before continuing, “and ten Hail Mary’s, I’ll make you say each one with my cock down your throat.” You clutch at your chest like you’d never been so offended, but the words caused you nothing but arousal as your cunt began to drip at the thought.

“You really are a naughty boy.” You purr, shaking your head as if in disappointment. You were both so deep in your own little world that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the confessional door.

The handle was jiggled and quickly ripped open as a loud gasp rang out from behind you.

“Sister!” The nun hisses in absolute disbelief and disgust. The tone of her judgment awoke something deep inside of you that you thought had been buried. You hop off of Eddie’s lap, his spent cock plopping out and falling back onto his lower stomach. You quickly pull the habit over your head as Eddie stands up to inch himself back into his pants.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The nun you now recognize as Sister Claudia, snarls with a look of revulsion.

Eddie swiftly takes your hand and pulls you away, abandoning your veil and his vestment. His now shirtless and tattooed chest on display for the judgmental nun.

Without another thought you throw her the middle finger as you and Eddie run down the row of pews and out the heavy doors.

You weren’t sure where you were headed, but as long as it was with him. You were ready for the new journey.

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n

[soldier-poet-king]

I love my Nonna dearly but I also just got my first real "here's how you should find a man" advice so truly 2023 IS my Charlotte Lucas year

To be fair, I'll give them credit, this is one of the first times my family has pulled this shit on me. I suppose my "I'm too busy focusing on school" excuse that I used through all 8 years of undergrad and grad school doesn't really work now that I've been working full-time for a year. And she also didn't bring it up in front of everyone or out of the blue, it came up because we had been discussing how insane my motherhas been about babies lately and my Nonna said "oh it's BC she's waiting for grandkids"

And like??? Just because my mother got married and had kids by my age (which may have been the right decision for her, this isn't judging even if I think her life went to shit bc of it) doesn't mean it's the right decision for ME

In fact, it is the ABSOLUTE WRONG decision for me. Theres a whole long list of reasons why I'm not getting married + or having children, including but not limited to: the trauma of my parents marriage and my childhood, my own ongoing health stuff, the whole religious queer anxiety guilt complex I've got going, the fact that if I were to get pregnant the resulting mental health crisis and dysphoria would undoubtedly make me *** y'know not soemthing that is frequently a source of nightmares for me or anything, my inability to take care of myself let alone CHILDREN, and the anxiety of raising children religious when I don't even know wtf is going on with me, CHILDREN??? IN THIS ECONOMY????

Ofc I can't exactly say any of this to my Nonna who, while incredibly sweet and loving and Good, is also like. Not at all exposed to these concepts and would probably freak out if I was like hello yes I am a big fat queer and I rlly hate the concept of gender and societal ideas of womanhood :) it also doesn't help that rlly the only single, middle aged woman my Nonna knows is this lady who works at the church who is DEFINITELY a badly closeted lesbian but also she's super fuckin mean and condescending and no one likes her BC she's a bitch, on top of the whole being a badly closeted lesbian in a conservative heteronormative religious environment

Like even IF I were to get licitly Catholic married to a man. You wanna find one for me??? My Nonna was like "go to church more to find a man" HELLO??? WHERE??I GO TO MASS EVERY WEEK?? Every religious man I know irl is a radtrad women can't wear pants type or is a manchild. Even if I COULD find a normal man, he'd have to get real cool about some stuff real quick. In that forever dilemma of too leftist queer for the religious and too religious for the leftist queers. (Obvs your partner doesn't have to be your duplicate but I'm like. Generally being on the same page. The same BALLPARK. is probably conducive to having a healthy relationship, y'know?)

Besides a significant part of my having 0 social life is because I am living in my parents basement which is in a shitty not-a-suburb of mostly immigrant families with youngish kids or super old folks from when the neighborhood was built, so it's poor and run down but also super fuckin far from anything To Do, so it's the WORST of both worlds of urban sprawl. And I have no car. And I already spend 2.5 hrs a day commuting for work. And I'm chronically tired. And joining a fencing club or taking art class or whatever costs MONEY y'know the thing I'm trying to SAVE by living in this hell place???? She literally said in the same convo "live here as long as possible to save money" like??? YOU CANT HAVE UR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO as long as I'm living here I'm NOT going out and meeting ppl BC there is literally Nowhere To Go. Big box stores like Walmart? Yet another strip mall? The highway??? THIS IS SOULLESS HELL of neither nature NOR accessible city amenities

And anyway, I would rather be in a long term marriage for tax benefits relationship anyway. Not platonic, not romantic, but a secret third thing (jk but also serious). Like. Mutual devotion that blurs the lines and transcends labels. It could be completely chaste. It could not be. It's not a dealbreaker really. It's about trust and devotion and companionship and love. But also I'm insane and I KNOW how insane and obsessive I sound, and society prioritizes nuclear family relationships and not the weird ass shit I crave, and I feel too much too fast and would ruin any relationship I had even if I WERE to somehow find someone who prioritizes those things too

So like. It's fine. Most days (not all ofc, but I'm trying) I'm okay with this and being on my own and learning to cultivate my own peace and Goodness and I know who I am and what I believe and what I trust to be Good and I'm working toward that and I'm not sacrificing it for anything. But also. Can you give a bitch a break. Please. I'm so fkin tired

#franposting #my bday isnt even til JUNE #im going to bitch anyway #im genuinely really upset but part of that is bc my headache has come back #and its worse than ever #i might cry but my head already hurts too much #i got really good news at work and only the men in my family made a big deal #the women were just. meh. and ofc none of them have careers so why should ot be important to me? #as the only granddaughter ofc :)))) #i am going. to crawl into bed. hair washed. lavender candle on. #do a lil meal planning. and then read or maybe just sleep. #tmrws goals after church are gym and grocery shopping before dnd #have to make my body hurt so much i cant think again #ofc bro 1 has claimed the car. so maybe i cant go #god. gos. i fuckin need to get out of here #but i literally cannot afford even studio apt rent in the city #and moving to one of the boroughs doesnt gwt me any closer to anything esp without a car #literally. just like. fuckin kill me #or find me a decently paid not soul killing job in a smaller city or even a town #where i could have a garden #or a porch swing. sit in. the sunlight

[briamichellewrites]

20

2012. Brie woke up alone. Mike had already left since he wasn’t supposed to see her before the wedding. He had everything he needed because he had laid it out before going to bed, but he double-checked just in case. The doorbell rang, so she got up and walked downstairs. It was Jessica and Patti. They were helping her get ready before going to the hotel. They hugged her. How was she doing? She inhaled before exhaling. Nervous was an understatement!

That’s because it was the most important day of her life! Patti had her eat a big breakfast because she wouldn’t be able to eat again until the reception. She had a bowl of oatmeal with cut-up apples. They would be meeting Elisa and Linsey at the hotel, where they would be getting their hair and makeup done before getting dressed. Should she change out of her pajamas?

No, they were fine but she should brush her hair and teeth. Patti would get everything together while she did that. She sent Jessica up with her. Mike got to the hotel and greeted his groomsmen. He came wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants with his tux, tie, shoes, and dress shirt. Muto hugged his son. Today is the day! Yes, it was. How was he feeling? It was a mix of nervousness and excitement. That was more than understandable. The thing he needed to focus on was getting dressed.

Brie and her bridal party had gone through a test run with their hair and makeup a few days before. She bought them all matching robes to wear to keep their dresses from getting dirty. She chose to have a braided headband because it looked bohemian. After putting her shoes on, Patti helped her into her dress. She then buttoned it up in the back.

They all took pictures of her with their phones because she looked beautiful! They hired a photographer, who was taking pictures of the entire day from getting ready to the reception. Bruce looked at his son-in-law. He looked great. Thank you. Did he eat breakfast? Yes, he did. He also took a shower the night before. Jason had the rings. He double-checked. Yes, they were in his pocket! He showed them to his brother. Don’t scare me like that! Sorry.

Where were the dogs? They decided last minute not to bring them because they wouldn’t cooperate. That was fine. They planned for that to happen. The photographer got a picture of him looking in the mirror with his father behind him with pride in his eyes. His son was getting married.

The afternoon before, they rehearsed the wedding with their officiant. Though she wasn’t religious, his family was. Muto asked them if they would have a Christian officiant. It was the only thing he asked for, so they agreed. Thank you. He worked with them on what they wanted for a ceremony. They chose a bible verse for their vows.

Finally, it was time to go. Brie followed her bridesmaids and flower girls, Brooklyn and Regan. They both looked so adorable in their matching dresses! They both had baskets with flower petals, which they threw on the floor as they walked down the aisle. Just like they practiced the day before. Jason then walked down with Jessica, Evan with Linsey, and Sam with Elisa. Brie took Bruce’s arm. He asked if she was ready. Yes. He kissed the side of her head before walking down.

Everyone had stood up to see her. Mike put his hands over his mouth because he couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked! Oh my god! Patti wiped tears of happiness from her eyes. Bruce took her hand and gave it to Mike. You look so beautiful, he whispered. After their guests sat down, the officiant started the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses to join together Michael and Brie in holy matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God, since the first man and the first woman walked on the earth. Therefore; it is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly. Into this holy estate, these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore, if anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace”

He read scripture on love. Love was patient. Love is kind. Chester wiped tears of happiness from his face. He hadn’t intended to cry but he was so happy for his best friends! They had been planning everything for a year! Brie thought of every little detail and she had moments where she had anxiety and stress because she wanted it to be perfect! They were kept up to date because she was so excited, she had to tell them.

Mike had found the perfect woman to marry! Their engagement had come out of nowhere but they all believed he had made the right choice in asking her to marry him. During the ring exchange, Jason handed the officiant the rings.

“Do you Michael take Brie to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Do you Brie take Michael to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

You may kiss the bride! Everyone cheered as they shared their first kiss as a married couple. They walked down the aisle holding hands with their wedding party. The stressful part was over. Now, they could celebrate with their guests! First, they had to take wedding pictures with their families and wedding party. They followed their photographer outside.

After a half hour, they came back in. Donna hugged her daughter-in-law. Congratulations! She thanked her. During the reception, they sat at the head table with their party. They were both starving because they hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast! The food also looked delicious! The caterers had done a great job getting everything together. Since her feet were killing her, she took off her shoes and put them on the floor beside where she was sitting. Bruce got on the microphone after everyone was seated.

“Thank you all for coming. I’m going to start the toasts. Brie has always been very unique. Wherever there was a group of people, she would always want to be in front performing for them. My wife and I joked that she gave us gray hair because she was never afraid of anything. Even if it meant jumping on a horse and almost falling off.”

Everyone laughed.

“Watching her grow up has been an honor. Yesterday, she was yelling at us in French because her toys weren’t listening to her. Today, she’s getting married. Mike, congratulations and welcome to the family. If you need any advice, don’t hesitate to ask.”

They laughed again. Mike got up and hugged him, as did Brie. They both said I love you. Jessica and Jason also toasted them. Jason joked about with his older brother, while Jessica did the same for her little sister. It was all in good fun and they saw the humor in it. They both congratulated them and wished them a happy marriage. They both thanked them.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

[riotshotguns]

Okay you know what I feel like I should repay you because you've in the past inadvertently helped me by letting me gain enough vague knowledge of R6Siege to pretend I've played it to get like 50¢ from a survey so: Tell me about Lion! He seems like a guy you're eager to talk about

OH BOY TYSM glad i could help you get like 50¢ from a survey with my insanity . i’m sorry for all the information you’re about to lesrn he sucks so fuckign bad but i love him so much

so basically lion was a super rebellious teenager in a very well-off conservative catholic and he ruined his life when he was 18 by fucking up and getting his at the time girlfriend pregnant. he begged her to get an abortion because his family is so religious they’d absolutely kill him if they found out, she said no, he tried to pressure her into it and she left, it was a whole thing. they did find out and disowned his ass and he, now faced with being kicked out of the house with absolutely nothing at 18, went on a depression and fear fueled bender and landed in the hospital . absolutely sucked 0/10 bad time

so when he got outta this hospital he decided he ws gonna clean up his life by joining the military and try to be a good person. wild choice but yk its a military fps game what do you expect . he also became catholic again which i mean yeah sure fine i guess thats his choice. after a while (like a Long while) his unit’s chaplain arranged a meeting with the ex girlfriend and the child, and he was like “oh SHIT my actions have consequences this child almost didn’t exist” and now makes an effort to be in his son’s life even though the kid grew up calling someone else dad bc the gf got married at some point i think? idk regardless lion tries to be a good parent despite his past fuckups and i like that about him

but anyway so lion joins the gign, then gets recruited for cbrn which is like . anti-bioterrorism basically, where he meets doc and twitch (two other gign operators that r in the game) during an ebola outbreak. lion, being a quarantine specialist, decides to quarantine a bunch of infected people to prevent the spread of the virus. doc is NOT happy about this because hes hardcore humanitarian and wants to try to help them. because of lion’s shitty quarantine practices they wind up dying, and doc has blamed him ever since which is totally fuckin fair . they both had a lot of mean things to say to each other, namely that lion lacks empathy and that doc’s belief that People Should Not Die If It’s Preventable is a liability. the two have been actively hostile towards each other for a long time, but have reached a stable point in the past couple seasons. theyre both beginning to move on and work together to lead wolfguard, which is rainbow’s rescue unit essentially

so now with all the backstory shit out of the way, what i like about this wretched beast; he sucks, he fucked up a whole lot, but he’s trying so very hard to do better for the people he cares about and for himself. he’s confident and even cocky when it comes to his combat skills but he absolutely does not trust his civilian instincts because of the things he’s done in the past so he���s really, really bad at interacting with people . he tends to come off as an arrogant asshole (which is kind of true honestly) and has gotten into fights with so so many other members of rainbow because he’s just so full of fuckin attitude. he also canonically likes heavy metal and cats and is fascinated by virology and vector control :] and when he’s not doing stuff for team rainbow he tries to help his community by volunteering for various stuff

in conclusion; i love this wretched beast. he’s the reason i got into r6 and i rotate him in my brain every day because he is just Inch Resting to me. i could talk about my nighthaven lion thoughts BUT tahts not even canon adjacent that’s just me being insane so i will save that for another day . sorry for the 800 page essay i just fjskgkakkgks lion my beloved . i will leave you with this picture of him bc i like it :]

#trailcam recordings #babylonbirdmeat #long post #i have no fucking idea how to tag any of this . #lion r6siege #<- this tag is just a category for my mental illness at this point .

[countessofravenclaw]

Like the Red Rose blooms in the Oxford Garden: Chapter fourteen

Note here in the beginning if you some how missed the A/N after the last chapter. The last chapter ended in the way that all of you probably are expecting this chapter open up with the proposal. This won't because the proposal has been published in it's entirety alreay. You can find it at the chapter 2 of the ¡Sí! - La Trinidad del Amor

I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you

The sunlight was trickling in through the blinds. It was shining so brightly into Nina’s face that she had to open her eyes. 

Everything about yesterday felt like a blur. Had that all actually happened?

It had. Nina pulled her left hand from under the covers and looked at the ring on her left ring finger. There it was. She was finally taking a good look at it, and it was beautiful. It was alike no ring she had seen before—Gastón had said he had gotten it custom-made—and the bigger sapphires in the middle and small diamonds around them reflected light gorgeously. 

“What are you smiling at?” Arms wrapped around her waist as Gastón pulled her into him. 

“You know.”

“Do I?” Nina felt his breath on her right ear, “I think I might need a reminder.”

“Does this give you a refresher?” Nina smiled and rolled over so she could face him and wrapped her arms around Gastón’s neck. “I said yes.”

“Yes, to what?” Gastón brought his face closer to her. He was being stupid on purpose.

“That I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, that became very clear yesterday,” Gastón brushed some hair out of Nina's face. Well, it was completely his fault that it was all in knots in the first place. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.” 

Then he kissed her. 

“It sits perfectly on you,” Gastón held Nina’s left hand, “I should not be surprised. Everything looks good on you.”

“It’s beautiful.” Nina responded, before looking at Gastón questioningly, “This was what the mysterious face time calls were about. You don’t talk to your cousins that much. I should have realized that they didn’t have the accent.”

“Maybe.” Gastón smiled. “You know, sapphires are the stones of wisdom, so I thought it was fitting. They also symbolize hope, faith, focus, faithfulness, and even mental stability.”

“You really did your research.”

“I did…some of it,” Gastón responded, “Maria did the rest. She’s really into this kind of stuff. I’m not gonna get into all the “healing and spiritual properties” since those don’t make any sense...or are real. I kind of sometimes wonder how she and Mom get along so well, given how religious Mom and Dad are, but I guess they don’t talk about “healing crystals” in their everyday conversations. I promised to text Maria once you had said yes. She wants to start on wedding bands.” He laughed. 

“We’re already talking about those?” Nina questioned, “It hasn't even been 24 hours. I’m still wrapping my head around it.”

“So, you’re not one of those people who has had their wedding planned their whole life?” Gastón raised an eyebrow at Nina, with a gleam in his eye.

“No!” Nina laughed, “I mean I know that I have always wanted that, but I never really truly thought about my wedding. I don’t even know where to start.”

“I can tell you from where,” Gastón pulled her tight against his chest, “From not worrying. You’re not going to be alone. I kind of have to be there, that’s how it works. Plus, I know that Mom is already just waiting for us to ask her to do anything. She singlehandedly planned their wedding and vow renewable. Anyways, I do not want to see you become extremely overwhelmed, that’s not the point of this. I love you, and I want to marry you, that’s it. If it starts being too much, we’re eloping, I mean it.”

“My Mom would kill us,” Nina had to laugh. 

“So would mine—” Gastón joined in her laughter, “—but that’s just detail. We don’t need to think about all that now. Let's just enjoy the moment.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Nina ran her fingers through his hair as they kissed again. Gastón rolled her over while running his hand lower and lower on her back—

“Why on earth do you have an alarm?” Gastón asked as Nina’s phone started alerting for something.

“I don’t have an alarm,” Nina stated, confused, while reaching for her phone, “Or, I shouldn't have one. I would never set one for 10:30… oh noh.”

“What is it?” Gastón sat up on the bed.

“It’s not an alarm,” Nina stared at her phone, “It’s a calendar reminder… 

“What?” Gastón stared at her. 

“About that I am supposed to meet up with Marlee and Ariana for coffee—in 30 minutes. I don’t remember when we ever agreed on that,” Nina shook her head, “But it’s happening now. I’m not gonna make it on time.” She got up from the bed and ran to the closet.

“You can’t blow them off?”

“What reason would I give?” Nina looked at herself in the bathroom mirror after coming out of the closet. A ponytail would need to do. She didn’t have time to start brushing through all the knots. “I’m not gonna tell them. Only your parents and my dad know. Don’t you want to keep it between us for a little while?”

“Yes,” Gastón was looking at her from the bed, “But you do need to tell your mother, otherwise I am definitely getting murdered, since I didn’t talk to her beforehand.”

“I’ll do that,” Nina came out of the bathroom. 

“I’ll miss you.” Gastón grabbed her hand. 

“I try not to be for long.” She honestly didn’t really want to go meet up with Marlee and Ariana right now. She wanted to stay here…with her fiance. 

Nina leaned down to kiss him and was met with an extremely passionate response. The kiss was clearly meant to get her to melt back into his arms, and… it was very nearly working. The fact that he didn’t have a shirt on also didn’t help the matter. 

“I’ll have to go now.” She very reluctantly detached herself from Gastón and started walking toward the door while pulling a coat on. “And I am taking the car, because otherwise I’ll never make it.”

*

“For a second there we thought you were not going to show up.”  Ariana remarked as Nina finally saw her and Marlee sitting at a table. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Were you in a hurry?” Marlee smirked.

“Yes, I in fact was,” Nina thought it was best just to nod, “Just a little bit.”

“We can tell,” Ariana laughed, “We don’t see you with the glasses that often anymore. What kept you, because surely you weren’t late by accident? It would be the first time.”

“Just got caught up with packing,” Well… it wasn’t a complete lie. They had been packing, before everything. “There is so much we still need to do.”

“I can’t believe you’re really going back,” Marlee shook his head. 

“It has always been our plan,” Nina smile sympathetically, “But we still have over a month before we do. You can always visit.” 

“I have to admit that we will miss you two.” Ariana sipped her coffee. 

“I'll miss you too. But, it’s our home. England is lovely, but neither of us, Gastón and I, ever meant to stay. Even without each other, since that was not my intention when coming here. It’s your fault that it happened.” Nina finally took her coat off and started pulling her gloves off her hands. It was still quite chilly early in the month. “As I said, you can come to visit. Wouldn’t you want to see some Argentina? We’ll surely come back here as well…”

“Nina?” Marlee suddenly interrupted her, “What’s that?”

“What?” Nina stared at her. Please let it not be something on her face.

“In your hand.”

“Gastón gave me the bracelet when I turned 20,” Nina started speaking, confused. “You have seen it thousands of times.”

“You sure were packing alright,” Ariana remarked, “Don’t play dumb…we aren’t talking about that. Or are you completely missing the ring that’s on your finger? So, mind explaining that?”

Nina looked back at her hand. She had forgotten to take the ring off. Technically, her mind being on other things was Gastón’s fault, but that didn’t help matters now. Obviously, anyone with eyes would notice it, the ring was quite eye-catching, and clearly expensive—not that she cared about that.

“Uhm,” She opened her mouth, but couldn’t quite find the words… this was not supposed to go like this. Were Gastón and she never allowed to reveal the things on their own time? “So…yes…we, um…Gastón—he, he proposed.” She had to smile as she said that. It really was real and making her so happy.

“OH MY GOD!” Marlee and Ariana almost made the table fall when they lunged to hug Nina. 

“Explained why you were late,” Ariana smirked after they had settled back down, “perhaps had some hard time getting out of bed?”

“That really a question?” Marlee rolled her eyes, “I can’t quite believe this! I mean we have known Gastón and those other three idiots for six years at this point—well I have known Jacob for longer but that’s irrelevant. Never thought this was going to happen. All you straighties, like Oliver and James have GIRLFRIENDS now and you are getting married. This is the end of the singles club, truly.”

“It ended when those two first got together…” Ariana noted while looking and Nina, “...or more like got back together.”

“I love this ring,” Marlee was examining Nina’s finger, “You know, it kind of gives the Princess of Wales vibes, with the sapphires and diamonds.”

“You mean the current one, right?” Ariana furrowed her brow.

“Of course I do,” Marlee rolled her eyes, “You think I would be talking about the King’s failed marriage at the time like this…although it is the same ring.”

***

“Gracias. Te veo después.” Gastón walked toward the living room, still on his phone. He was talking to the same representative from the Castillo Corporation that had called him a year ago when he had declined the job offer…It had been the right decision at the time and he definitely had not been regretting it, but to his surprise, as soon as he had handed in his resignation (To quite a lot of pushbacks. They really wouldn’t want to let him go, but he was moving out of the country, there really wasn’t anything that could have been done) from Renishaw, the Castillo Corporation had called again, repeating their offer. This time he had accepted without hesitation. “Espero con ansias de verdad. Gracias por darme este cambio.”

Nina was on her tablet in the living room. Gastón's phone call had taken quite a long time, given they had been through all the details now—as he had accepted the offer about a month ago—on when he was starting and the document signing and stuff like that. Hadn’t she been talking to Luna? They were supposed to talk about Nina’s upcoming graduation…

Arrangement for that had been their own story. The date for the degree ceremony had been changed at least twice to accommodate the bank holidays and all the other stuff that came with the coronation of the new king. That should have not been surprising, Nina’s class and his work schedules had been completely thrown out of wack during the fall because the mourning period for the Queen. Marlee had even dragged all of them to view the lying-in-state. 

“They can’t come.” Nina suddenly said putting her tablet down. Her voice would have sounded emotionless, almost robotic to an outsider, but not to him. She was his fiancée, had been almost a month at this point. Gastón definitely couldn’t call himself a guy who deserved to have her as his wife if he couldn’t decipher the different undertones. 

“Who?” Gastón sat next to her and as soon as he saw her face, it was clear that she was holding in tears.

“Luna and Matteo can’t make it to my graduation,” Nina said again.

“What?” Gastón asked. “Last time they said they could. What happened.”

“The dates overlap with the shows Matteo has,” Nina explained. 

“No, they don’t,” Gastón tried to understand. Four of them had talked about this four days ago.

“Now they do, as the date changed,” Nina kept talking in a defeated tone, “I can’t fault him about it. Those are for charity, for cancer research.”

“Of course not,” Gastón nodded. Charities for cancer were especially close to his family, because both of his paternal grandparents had died of cancer while his parents had been at college. He had never got to meet them. “But Luna doesn’t need Matteo to fly over. Didn’t she get the days off?”

Luna had been skating in a roller-skating treatment of an ice ballet called the Ice Queen during the winter and spring. She had been playing a mink in a full furry costume and having the time of her life. 

“No, because she already has used her days off for this month or something. I don’t get it either,” Nina shook her head, “She thought she hadn’t. Simon and Ambar are in and out of Mexico for the wedding, so they obviously aren’t coming either… I guess it’s going to be just us and Mom and Dad. Mora is trying to make it.”

“I’m sorry.” Gastón brushed his fingers in Nina’s hair. He felt awful, given that they all had come to his graduation.

“I feel so stupid to get worked up about this,” Nina continued, “I can’t expect everyone to put their lives on hold for me. I just thought they would make it. I wanted them there.”

“I know,” Gastón put his arm around her and pulled her closer, “You’re allowed to be sad. You don’t control when the monarch dies and when they decide to crown the next one…but we’ll see them when we’re back home.”

“We should have told them already.” Gastón knew what she meant. They had been engaged a month soon, and had not told Luna and Matteo yet. They had been waiting on telling them when they were going to be there for Nina’s graduation, but now they weren’t. 

“We can just pull then up on face time and tell them right here, right now, if you want,” He suggested.

“I feel it’s like something we need to tell them in person, especially as we have been living separately for the past years. They weren’t there for the proposal…”

“They were never going to be there for the proposal,” Gastón shook his head, “I was not going to take a chance of getting strangled by Luna while I was already nervous.”

“Fair point,” Nina laughed and laid her head on his chest. 

“We’ll tell them once we’re back,” Gastón continued, “And they will be happy for us. I know it.”

“I know it too.”

“I have been thinking,” Gastón continued, “Do you think that it’s absolutely necessary to have a summer wedding?”

“No, not really,” Nina shook her head, “Why?”

“Because I don’t think I wanna wait a year,” he said, “It just seems such a long time, looking at how long Simon and Ambar had been arranging everything. What do you say about the winter? It still won’t be too cold.”

“I actually quite like that idea,” Nina nodded, “but that would leave us maybe about eight months…but on the other hand…it’s not going to be very big.”

“And doesn’t need to be. I think we could, but we don’t need to put anything to stone right now.”

***

“Stay put… there.” Lisa was helping Nina to pin the graduation rope on, because it had been much more complicated than she had expected. Gastón had warned her about that, but she hadn’t realized how many knots and buttons there actually were. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually finally graduating!” Lisa continued as Nina put her phone away after reading through all the messages that Luna had been sending her apologizing about her not being there and wishing them luck. Nina didn’t mind at this point anymore. Schedules had just not matched and that happened. They’d see each other really soon as they were finally going home, and Luna had already insisted that she and Matteo stay in Mexico with Gastón and Nina for another additional week after Simon and Ambar’s wedding. They could properly catch up then.

“I can’t fully believe either,” Nina responded, “Five years are now done.”

“Yep, now we can start living and starting our career,” Lisa nodded before rolling her eyes, “Except some of us are already real authors with successful books.”

“I wouldn’t say successful,” Nina blushed slightly. Her book had actually done well, more than well. She had never expected that. Agreements about the sequel had already been drawn. Nina was thinking that at this point that story would be a trilogy. 

“You can say that,” Lisa rolled her eyes again, “But mark my words, you don’t know what's coming yet. When you become famous, I have the dips on your autobiography. The remarkable story of Nina Simonetti—”

Lisa suddenly stopped as Nina ran her left hand through her hair. It was so humid, it was bound to become frizzy, even with the hair due Ariana had taught her how to do. 

“—or will it be Simonetti?” she quickly snatched Nina’s left hand. “When were you going to tell me?”

“It happened so recently,” Nina smiled while looking at the ring, “Haven’t had the time. I haven’t even told my best friend yet.”

“What are you screaming about?” Jess was walking toward them. 

“Nina’s engaged! They are getting married!” Lisa reminded Nina of Luna immensely at that moment, as she was jumping on her stilettos. Hopefully, she was not going to fall. 

“What?” Jess looked in quite big disbelief before she walked close enough to see the ring. It wasn’t that hard to miss, given that it kind of clashed with the rest of Nina’s outfit. She was wearing an emerald green wrap dress with white wedges and gold and pearl accessories…but the engagement rings weren’t supposed to match with your outfit… Goodness, she was starting to sound like Jazmin.

Everyone absolutely freaking out and being so happy about her and Gastón’s engagement made her feel so good. This is how her life was supposed to go. Everything she had ever wanted and more. 

“Time to move into our seats!!” Someone yelled and everyone seemed to be moving toward the door. 

“You can tell me everything while we sit until we die of boredom,” Jess grabbed Nina’s arm. They were sitting next to each other given their last names. Jess’ was Smitson. 

*

“...In the end we all write in our own way to make our own story. Now go out there and do us proud. The 2023 graduating class from the faculty of English Language and Literature of Oxford!”

The Dean’s speech had not been that different from what had been said at Gastón’s graduation. Nina guessed that the faculties didn’t have time to write different things to say to every ceremony since there were many of those. 

Lot of screams and yells of victory sounded across the auditorium as they all stood up and threw their hats into the air. 

Nina felt bit strange, she guessed that was the bittersweet feeling that Gastón had told her about. Oxford had so much meaning for them now, outside of academics. It was where they had found each other again and put their lives back on track toward a bright future. It was also the place that had broken them up in the first place.

Whether or not any of that would have happened in the first place if they had stayed in Buenos Aires… they didn’t know. Nina and Gastón had had many conversations about that and came to the conclusion that they could never know, and it didn’t really matter, since they were happy now and that was all that mattered.

The Oxford journey was now over. For Gastón it had been technically over for a year already, but now they were free to go back home. The six-year adventure was finally complete. 

Nina squeezed her diploma tighter in her hand than she had her key on the freshmen' moving day. The day she had first set her foot into Oxford, and met Ariana and Marlee… who technically had led her toward her happiness. 

No one could have known that Gastón had made friends with the two specific girls who had become her roommates. 

“We did it!” Lisa had run to Nina and Jess from her place two rows behind them. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“We will see each other again, right?” Lisa nudged Nina, “I mean I might know a wedding that is happening.”

*

“You were amazing!” Gastón had picked Nina up as soon as she had reached where he had been waiting for her with her parents. Nina had grown to expect it at this point, as he always did it, be it his or her graduation—and she absolutely loved it.

“You truly were icka,” Her mother said after Nina got done hugging her, Mora, and her dad. 

“You’re all exaggerating, “Nina shook her head as she wrapped her arm back around Gastón’s arm. “I walked in a straight line, accepted a piece of paper, nodded and shook some hands. Nothing more than that. 

“It’s not about that,” Gastón laced his hand with hers, “It’s what this all implies and how much work you have put into it. You have reached huge accomplishments. I couldn’t be prouder of my future wife.”

“WHAT?” Ana and Mora had whipped their head around as soon as Gastón had said the last words. They were now staring at both of them. 

“You haven’t told them?” Gastón looked at Nina questioningly. No, she hadn’t. She had meant to, but then it had just slipped her mind. 

“I forgot.” Nina said under her breath. Her dad apparently was just standing on the background enjoying the scene… well, he had known. “I’ll handle this.” 

She squeezed Gastón’s hand before letting go of it. “Mom…” she started saying, “you heard right, we’re engaged.” she showed her left hand to her mother…actually it was quite of wonder why Ana had not noticed it sooner. 

“Did you know about this?” Ana shot a look at Ricardo who had a big grin on his face. 

“I did,” He nodded, “Our future son-in-law is a gentleman.” 

Nina could see that her mother was very happy for them, but she also was in pure shock. She sometimes did have a hard time accepting that Nina was an adult now. Full grown adult with a master’s degree and a book series in active publishing. 

“Anita aint this wonderful?!?!?” Mora jumped in, “Besitos el aire for both of you… now weed need to find a cafe at this second! Good thing I brough the necessities, because we need to get to discussing the dress.” 

Mora surely had internalized the news quickly. Nina was taken a bit aback. “Isn’t a bit early for that? We haven’t even decided on a date or anything about the wedding.”

“Darling, it’s never too early to talk about the bridal gown. That’s the best part of a wedding.”

“Should I feel insulted?” Gastón asked and Nina shot him a look, “Anyways, how about we talk about all of that when we’re back in Buenos Aires… Now we should just focus on celebrating Nina and her accomplishments.”

“You know I have some new ideas for alternative tuxedos…”

“I can take care of that myself.”

***

“Okay,” Gastón looked at his watch as he lifted the bags on the conveyor belt, “Those were the last.” 

Nina who had been standing behind him came closer and he took her hand. Their flight was leaving in about an hour and a half. “It’s time.”

They turned around and watched the group a little further away from them. All their friends had come to see them off at the airport. 

“There isn’t any way we can convince you to stay?” Jacob asked as he hugged Gastón. 

“Kind of too late for that.” Gastón laughed. “But it’s not like we’ll never see each other again. You all are coming to the wedding.”

“If only we still lived together—” Oliver remarked as he hugged Gastón on his turn, “—we could lock you up.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Gastón chuckled, “But honestly, we have had some great times.”

“We finally grew accustomed to your face, and now we won’t see it anymore. We will miss you.”

“Yo también te extrañaré. Ustedes dos.” Flor hugged him next, since she had been standing next to Oliver, “Give Matteo and Luna my regards…plus you and Nina are going to be my inside source for tea from this point on. Thank you for taking care of me here.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

“Yeah, Gastón, thank you,” Oliver said while wrapping his arm around Flor’s shoulder. 

“I’m glad we met. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” James said after hugging Gastón. He was sure this was going be the hardest goodbye. Through the six years, James had become quite important to him. “I probably would have never graduated.” 

“I am sure you would have found a way,” Gastón patted him on the back. “But I’m glad we met too.”

“I’m going to miss you… but at least I can say at work that I have a contact at Castillo Corporatios now.”

“Through one of the lower tier energy division members… but exploit it as you want,” Gastón laughed, “I know I’ll miss you too. Isabel, can I trust you to keep James out of trouble?”

“Of course.” Isabel—who had come with James—nodded before hugging Gastón herself quickly, “We haven’t known for long, but I’m glad that we do. Será raro no tenerte…around or something like that.”

“Good enough,” Gastón laughed, “If you ever want to come and see Argentina, hit me and Nina up. You and James can come and stay with us in Buenos Aires. Couple of our friends are adoptees themselves who have been investigating their past.” 

“We’ll take you up on that sometime.”

“We have raised you well.”

“We truly have.”

Marlee and Ariana jumped to hug him at the same time. “Treat our girl well.”

“That will be my life’s mission.” Gastón nodded. 

“We should probably get going,” Nina came behind him and took his hand, before the TSA line becomes extremely long. 

“You’re right.” 

They turned to look at everyone for the last time.

“Bye everyone! We will miss you all!”

“And we’ll you at the wedding!”

Then they started walking toward the security gate.

About an hour later their plane took off. Gastón was definitely feeling a bit sad. He had lived at England for six years; he had become an adult there and experienced so much and found new friends… On the other hand, it had never been his home, Buenos Aires was. He couldn’t wait to go home, especially with Nina. 

“Do you feel a bit sad?” Nina asked him while leaning her head on his shoulder, “Because I do.”

“Yeah, I do,” He answered, “It’s pretty normal. It has been quite of an adventure. This will always be part of us. We’ll tell our children about these years someday.”

“Yeah,” Nina responded, “When I was younger, I never would have dared to think that all of this would happen. That we’re here, like this.”

“You can’t know the future…No matter how we got here, there’s no other place I’d be right now. Except with you.” He raised her left hand and kissed it, right next to the ring. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

{}

I guess it's over now. I was debating about having an epilogue, but right now there isn't one. Tell me if you want it, because I can change my mind. This is the story I have been planning on writing ever since I started writing prose. Gastina deserve their happily ever after and now they have it. This will also not be the end of Marlee, Ariana, James, Oliver, and Jacob. We will see them again in some other stories. So thank you to anyone who has been reading this and been supportive. Onto other stories I go, please read them, And if you have anything to say about this, please comment and tell me what you think.

#Soy Luna #soy luna fanfiction #Gastina #getting back together #because they are soulmates and nothing can keep them apart in the end #University fic #Through Gastón and Nina's years at Oxford #Other ships are included in the side: #Lutteo #Simbar #Pelfi #Red Rose blooms in the Oxford Garden

[mjvnivsbrvtvs]

thinking a lot of thoughts about familial legacies and filial piety and debts owed to the dead re: Brutus today

#'thinking a lot of thoughts' a phrase which here means 'im tired of studying italian renaissance era law practices' #twitter got this one but im posting it here too bc. you know. thinking thoughts #me 🤝 brutus: familial legacies pressuring us to behave in certain ways #the main difference is brutus was actually semi decent at following thru lmao #i just kind of refuse to behave as people think i should now #'oh you should get married' no. 'you should join in the religious life so that it can bring status and honor to the family' also no. #i am doing a painting of caligula and thinking about dead romans #also i am both trans and gay and that nixes my chances at a religious career i dont want and also marriage dates which i ALSO DONT WANT #did i ever tell you how i was in kabankalan one summer #just for a day bc i wanted to visit my favorite cousin's fiance #anyway so like. i ran into her mom while i was there. i cannot stress this enough: i had NEVER met this woman before #but five seconds after saying hello she was trying to set me up with her sister's twin sons #on the logic that if i didn't like one i would like the other #like MA'AM IM JUST TRYING TO VISIT MY FAVORITE COUSIN'S FIANCE. YOUR DAUGHTER. I WANT TO EAT SNACKS IN PEACE......PLEASE.... #anyway. the snacks were good and i had fun! kabankalan had some REALLY good sweets that i CRAVE. that said: #i'll get married if i ever meet someone who's willing to put up with the fact that im a little in love with machiavelli #forget the engagement ring the only proposal i want is with a replica of the eid mar coin

[therenlover]

In Sickness And In Health (An 18+ James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)

This is 18+ content! If you are a minor, this work is not for you !!!

This fic is a sequel to my oneshot Heartsick, but it can be read as a standalone oneshot!

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Tags: Smut with Plot, Weddings, Fluff, Ghost Smut, Cunnilingus, Sick!Reader, Obnoxious Titanic Knowledge

Rating: E, 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Major Character Death, Romanticization of Death, Murder, Unsafe Sex (it’s with a ghost, but just to be safe...), Mentions Of The Reader Having A Long Term Debilitating Illness

Word Count: 5500~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3 under the same title

-------

“How are you feeling, my darling?”

James’s voice was soft as he entered your suite, slipping off his shoes before joining you on the bed. He smelled like antiseptic, hair and hands still damp from a recent wash. Underneath, though, was the sharp, coppery tang of blood.

You stretched as you answered, weak muscles shuddering with effort. “It’s a good day. Not great, I still feel like absolute shit, but I don’t feel like I’m actively dying anymore,”

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement,”

Your fiancé offered you a rare, genuine grin. Seeing him smile made the lie worth it.

In truth, you still felt truly terrible.

It had been almost three weeks since Mr. March had proposed, and true to his word he had been glued to your side helping you recover ever since. He helped you bathe, fed you meals, gave you medication, kept you entertained; days with him were filled with small, simple pleasures. You had never experienced anything like that attention before. Unfortunately, though, the time spent with James only seemed to help your mind, and not your body.

After close to two months of bed rest, your muscles were weak. It still took significant effort to do simple tasks like walking to the bathroom or using cutlery. Some days were better than others, but everything generally tended to end up as part of the indistinguishable haze of pain that clouded your memories lately. If nothing else, at least the fevers were less extreme.

The only light at the end of the tunnel was your wedding. It was still two weeks away, (“That’s plenty of time for you to recover fully, my dearest,” James had insisted) but once you were married that meant you could die. Oh, what a happy day that would be. There would be no more sickness, no more achy muscles, not another day of forced bed rest, just peace and quiet and plenty of sex. God, how you missed the sex…

Every day was another day closer to your peaceful end, and yet they seemed to stretch endlessly. Deep down, you worried that you might not even make it long enough to walk down the aisle alive. You shuddered at the thought. If James ended up having to carry you down the aisle you might just die of embarrassment before he had the chance to kill you.

“I can’t believe you killed someone without me,” You huffed, reaching out your shaking arms and inviting James to lay with you. He happily obliged.

“Would you have preferred me to let him live?” James pulled your torso gently onto his chest, letting you rest against him.

“No, but you could have at least let me watch. I’ve been stuck in here for weeks, James. I get bored,”

He ran a hand through your hair. “Perhaps next time darling, but hopefully, you will be well enough to join me before our next victim walks through the door,”

“Who was it this time?”

“A florist. Liz invited him to bring over a few samples before hiring him to do arrangements for the wedding, but they were atrocious. You should have seen them, my love, they were simply grotesque, not to mention that the color schemes didn’t even slightly match the carpets in the entrance hall. Who puts pink and yellow tulips in a wedding arrangement at a hall filled with reds and oranges?”

You gave a soft hum. “Were they all really that bad?”

“Well… perhaps I was a bit harsh, but can you truly blame me? I want our wedding day to be perfect. There shouldn’t be a single flower or ribbon out of place,” He emphasized his question by gently squeezing you to his chest.

“Is it really that important?”

James went still. “What do you mean by that, dearest?”

A sigh pushed through your lips, your chest aching from the effort. “I just don’t understand why we have to wait for this perfect wedding when we could just get married now. I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy a big ceremony, I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I’m just so tired James. Why does it matter if we say our vows in front of other people? There’s not gonna be anything legally or religiously binding between us anyway. Getting married to you, in my mind, is just promising to be by your side forever, so why does anything else matter besides you and me?”

Looking up, you noticed that Mr. March seemed to be deep in thought, lips pressed into a line as his thin eyebrows furrowed together. Your heart sank. Did a wedding ceremony really mean that much to him? In an instant guilt began to flood your stomach. You were really ruining a special moment in his life to die faster? Hell, did he even really want you to die? He had always relished in your warmth, enthralled by the thudding of your weak, living heart. Of course, he would hate you for rushing into marriage just to throw your life away. Or maybe he was stalling because it would be too much for him to kill you himself…

“James-” you placated, lifting a hand to his face, but he quickly snapped out of his thoughtful haze.

He gazed down at you with love in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips. “You’re right! We shall be married this afternoon!”

A jolt of shock ran down your spine.

“What?”

“As you said, our wedding is a binding of souls, my darling! Our love is sacred, withstanding time and mortality, so who are we to bend to the rules of the common man? If an intimate ceremony for two is what you desire, I shall not deny you,” In one smooth motion, James rolled on top of you, arms boxing you in as he loomed above. He looked absolutely unhinged, eyes glinting wildly in the yellow lamplight.

You knew then that there would never be anyone else. No one could compare to James, your James. He would devour you whole and you would thank him all the while. With a sudden burst of energy, you reached up and pulled him into a scorching kiss.

It was sloppy, all battling tongues and clashing teeth, nothing like the soft pressing of lips that you had been sharing lately. How had you gone almost two months without this? Your heart felt like it was about to burst right out of your chest. As James bit down hard on your lower lip, you pulled fistfuls of his pinstripe suit into your hands.

After a few more seconds of desperate, breathless kissing James pulled away. You panted for air below him. “Why’d you stop?”

To your dismay, he climbed off of you. His hard-on was fully visible through his thin dress pants as he stood. “As much as I would love to ravage you now, dearest, I believe we have vows to exchange,”

“Can’t we just do them in bed? I want you now,”

He chuckled at your whining. “I may be willing to compromise on many things, but this is not one of them,”

“Please, Mr. March,” Your words were loaded, innocent doe eyes boring into his very soul, “for me?”

You could tell it was a difficult decision, but James stood strong. “I can’t say you haven’t thoroughly tempted me, but I’m afraid not darling,” he said firmly, “Forgive me?”

With a sigh, you nodded. “Of course,”

The instant you gave in, he beamed. “Splendid! Now, it’s a shame that we don’t have your dress, but I believe I have given you several gowns that would serve nicely,”

“You’re not gonna let me get married in my pajamas?”

“Would you prefer that to wearing a dress?”

The genuine concern in James’ voice was enough to make you fold. The things his voice did to you….

“Darling,” you groaned, fighting your weak muscles as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, “look in the closet. There should be a black zip-up garment bag in there,”

He quirked up an eyebrow.

“Just do it,”

“As my bride commands,” James rushed to the closet, thumbing through gowns. By the time he found it you were on your feet, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “This one, darling?” he asked, pulling it from the rack.

You grinned. “That’s the one. Open it up for me?”

James undid the zip quickly. Once he saw the contents, he gaped. “You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding,”

Slowly, you made your way to James and hugged him from behind. “Well, it’s a good thing the wedding is happening now... can you help me get the dress on?”

He happily obliged.

In less than 15 minutes you were laced into your wedding dress and sitting at your vanity. James was by the phonograph looking at records while you finished pinning up your hair. It was finally time.

“What would you like me to play, darling? We don’t have the wedding march, but there are some decent options. Let’s see… The Swan? You always have loved Saint-Saëns. Or perhaps Songe d’Automne?” James asked. He had been strangely lenient; bending to your will on the wedding, letting you pick the music, allowing you to tease him with no repercussions. You shrugged it off.

“You would really play the song that played as the Titanic sank at our wedding?”

“I find it strangely fitting,”

With a soft laugh, you put the last pin in place and turned to your groom. “And so it is. I’ll compromise. We have Mon Coeur S’Ouvre A Ta Voix, don’t we? You’ll get your morbidity while I get my romance,”

“That sounds delightful, my dear. Good choice,”

James found the correct record and set it on the phonograph, placing the needle and cranking the arm with a well-practiced hand. Then, as the music began to play, he stood. It was like he was devouring you with his eyes, drinking in every detail of you as he approached. He offered you his hands. “Shall we begin, my darling?”

You joined him in the center of the room without hesitation, taking his offering with a smile, “I think we shall,”

“I admit,” James said, voice sweet and low, “that I am well out of my depth here, but before we begin may I say that you, as you are now, are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you?”

Your face flushed. “What’s gotten into you, James? Are you getting soft on me?”

“We can only hope not, I have a reputation to uphold you know! I just can’t help but think…” his sentence drifted off as his gaze fell on yours, “I am a hard man, one of custom and habit. My life has been filled with monotony for as long as I have lived. Even killing has become commonplace for me. Things do not phase me the same way they phase you, darling, in all of your softness and perfection. I wonder if this is what will truly make you happy,”

“James!” you dropped his hands in order to cup his face, “I love you. I want to be with you. What would make you think I’m unhappy here?”

He covered your small fingers with his own, voice wistful. “I love you too, Y/N. Don’t misunderstand me, this wedding brings me more joy than you know. I simply wish to say that you will only get married once and I want it to be exactly to your liking. I have been engaged thrice and married once before, all of the pomp and circumstance is old news to me. For you, though, in all your youth…”

In a rare moment of openness, James bared himself to you. It was only right for you to do the same.

“I have never been more sure of myself than in this moment,” you whispered, leaning to let your forehead rest against his, “You are enough. I don’t need guests, or flower arrangements, or a cake to know I love you and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side. You’re right, I’m young and I’ve made a lot of dumb choices in my life, but loving you isn’t one of them. Take me, James, make me yours. This is where I belong”

As you spoke, you felt him relax against you.

“Well, you’ve certainly convinced me,” he murmured before pulling back and bringing your hands to his still, unbeating heart, “now, on with the show… my queen, the woman who has tamed my heart, you are the only one of your kind. No one else could move me the way you do. The moment I saw you walk into my hotel I knew that you would be mine, but I had no clue of the things you would do to my heart. You have changed me, mind, body, and soul. I can only hope that I’ve changed you in similar ways,”

While he was speaking, it suddenly hit you that this was it. Usually, brides had months of build-up to their weddings, filled with cake tastings and dress fittings and family and friends. You, though, had had only a few weeks to prepare, most of which were spent on strict bedrest while James took care of the planning. Even then, you had disregarded the plans. Tears of joy began to roll down your cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right in your whole life.

“Oh darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m just so happy!”

“And you shall continue to be happy. As long as you remain by my side, you will want for nothing! I shall be with you in sickness and in health, through life and through death,” Suddenly, his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “You, Y/N, have captivated me. I wish to never be without you again,”

“You never will be,”

James smiled, squeezing your hands. In an instant, you realized it was your turn. You hadn’t given much thought as to what you would say, but as you gazed into his dark, hopeful, hungry eyes the words came to you as clear as day.

“James Patrick March,” you said, “I have never met anyone quite like you. When I first saw you, I had nothing. I was destitute. The Hotel Cortez was my last hope in life, but then, I spoke to you in the Blue Parrot Lounge and I suddenly knew exactly what my purpose in life was. Somehow, someway, I realized that I had been made to find you. You’ve given me so much, James. You showed me that life was worth living. I can’t think of a future for me that doesn’t include you. From this moment on, once I’m finally Mrs. March, we can finally be what we were made to be… one heart, one mind, one soul. I’ll never let you go. Marry me, James? Stay here with me until the world ceases to turn?”

“I will, darling. I do,” while he spoke, he reached into his pocket. “I had hoped that this ring would be sitting on your finger sooner. It belongs to the woman of the house, the holder of my heart… you, my dearest Mrs. March. Please say you love me, and that you’ll stay with me until nothing of this world remains?

You responded with a grin. “I love you, James… I do,”

Slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger. It was the first time you’d actually seen it up close, and it was more stunning than you remembered. A large, square-cut diamond sat on a bed of smaller rubies, and it was all held together by a delicate silver band that fit your finger perfectly. The red stones were a new addition. Had James had the ring altered just for you? You were about to ask when you caught his gaze.

“May I kiss the bride now, my darling?”

Instead of responding, you surged up and kissed him yourself. It was like none of the kisses you had ever shared before.

There was a passion to it, but it wasn’t desperate. It was more of a low, roiling thing, a time-bomb ticking down to explode. In seconds James’ cool hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer and messing up the pinned curls you had put in earlier. You found you didn’t quite care.

Your limbs were beginning to feel weak as you ran out of air, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your long-forgotten illness or if it was just the power James held over you. Part of you didn’t care anymore. As you pulled back for air, your husband reached around to the lacing at the back of your dress and began to pull at it, earning a few giggles as he loosened it enough that it fell from your body, leaving you almost bare in front of him.

“How I’ve craved you, my lovely wife,” he growled, palming your breasts through your bra, “it’s been far too long,”

His touch felt electric against your thin, soft skin. “Please, Mr. March, more,” You pressed yourself against your husband, feeling how your words affected him. He was rock hard. Something about that satisfied an ache in your heart. Even with you sick and weak, he needed you as much as you needed him.

In a swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, setting you down gently before settling himself between your legs. You whimpered as he sucked a deep bruise into your neck. He was an expert with his tongue, licking and sucking the skin like a man starved. It felt delightful, but you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel elsewhere.

As if he could read your mind, James grinned.

“All in good time, you little minx,”

Ever impatient, you fisted a hand into his hair in an attempt to get him to move lower. He stayed put.

“Does my lovely wife want something from me?”

You groaned as he wrapped his teeth around your bra strap and tugged before letting go, the elastic snapping against your already sweat-slick skin. “James, please,”

“Ah, ah, ah! Use your words, dearest. What do you want?”

His tutting made you flush from your cheeks to your chest. There was only one way to get what you wanted, and you knew exactly how to do it. With as much innocence as you could muster in your debauched state, you whispered, “Please sir, will you eat my pussy?”

James couldn’t hold back as he snapped his hips against the sheets. “That’s it darling! How could I say no to such a polite request?”

You released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. In a blink, your husband was undoing your bra and pulling it off, working his sinful mouth down to your breasts. His teeth grazed your nipple, drawing a high-pitched whine from your throat as your back arched, pushing you up towards his touch. It was like your body was a live wire. Every nerve was alive, buzzing at the slightest touch. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Thankfully, he was quick to move once again. He left a trail of gentle, sloppy kisses down your ribs and stomach before arriving at his desired destination. His hot breath against your soaked panties fanned the flames of arousal building within you. Once again, you whined.

Your husband had always loved eating you out. He never seemed happier than when he was buried between your thighs with his tongue buried between your folds, and once again he was faced with his favorite activity. The hungry look in his eye told you that he wanted it as much as you did.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to remove your garter in front of the hotel. I would have so enjoyed showing them all just how lucky of a man I am. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise though… I do hate to share” he murmured, pressing a few torturous kisses to the hot skin of your inner thighs as he skimmed your panties with his fingers, “I suppose these will have to do,” Then, in a sudden movement, he was dragging them down your legs by the lace with his teeth. Once they were removed, he tossed them aside to be collected later. The way he looked at your wetness was reverent. It only made you wetter.

“What do we have here,” he muttered, letting the tip of his nose just barely brush your core, “what could possibly be making you this wet, my darling?”

His taunting was, surprisingly, less severe than usual. On any normal day, it would have taken a good 10 minutes for him to be anywhere near your heat, but you could tell he was obliging your whims as a treat. It was a special occasion, after all.

“You,” you groaned lowly as his breath ghosted over your pussy.

“That’s right, my dear heart, me,”

In an instant James had buried himself in your lower lips, suckling your clit with vigor as your hips bucked to meet him. For once, he let you chase your pleasure with reckless abandon. It had been months since your last proper orgasm, so you were extra sensitive as he licked long stripes up your slit. Soon enough you were keening as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.

“James- James, please!” you shouted as he finally worked a finger into your tight, wet hole, his tongue lazily circling your clit as he gazed into your eyes across the planes of your body.

He pulled off momentarily, making you groan. “Please what, dearest?”

“I wanna cum! Please- OH!”

His lips were back on your clit instantly, his eyes smiling as he pumped in and out of you with his fingers and sucked with reckless abandon. Every muscle in your body felt poised for action, your hands gripping James’ hair at the roots with enough force that you were surprised it was still attached to his head. You tipped over the edge into pleasure the second he curled his fingers upwards, roughly pressing into your sweet spot as he hummed, his voice vibrating against you in the most heavenly way.

Your orgasm was like a wave of pure bliss rolling over you as James pleasured you through it, milking you for everything you had. Only once you stopped convulsing did he remove his mouth. Even then, he continued to fuck you gently with his fingers. “Did that feel good, my love?” he asked, rubbing circles into your still-shaking thigh with his free hand.

“Yes, James! Your mouth is perfect,” you whimpered.

He seemed to enjoy your answer because he slowly pulled his fingers from your sensitive pussy before climbing up your body and rewarding you with a passionate kiss. You enjoyed it thoroughly but suddenly became aware that he was still fully dressed. “James,” you whined against his lips, “you’re wearing far too many clothes,”

He tasted like tobacco and absinthe as he kissed you again, guiding your hands to the buttons on his suit jacket before tugging at his cravat. “Perhaps we should remedy that, darling?”

You were quick to undo each button before ripping the jacket from his body and tossing it on the ground. His dress shirt and cravat were quick to follow. He focused on undoing his pants while you relished in his bare chest, running your hands down the firm planes of flesh. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whispered, biting down gently on his collarbone.

“No need to call me God, dearest,” he chuckled, shoving down his pants and boxers to free his leaking cock, “though I don’t oppose to it,”

He was a big man, long and thick enough that fitting all of him in was just slightly painful but more than enough to make you feel deliciously full. You drooled as you reached between your torsos to stroke him, but surprisingly James caught your wrist before you could touch him.

“I appreciate you taking my pleasure into consideration, my love, but I won’t last long as it is,” he crooned, holding your wrist to the bed with one hand as he lined himself up against your dripping heat with the other. He ran the head of his cock against your folds a few times, gathering up your wetness in the hopes that it would ease the stretch when he finally pushed in. To you, though, it was just torture, and how James did love to torture his victims.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. March,” you groaned, “I need you! It’s been so long,”

“Such a good little minx,” his voice rolled low as he smiled down at you, “using your words just like I taught you. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” Then, as he locked his hungry eyes with yours, he pushed fully into your heat.

You cried out in ecstasy the second he filled you up, your head lolling back against the headboard as he rocked in and out, letting you ride out the initial pain as he warmed you up for the main event. It wasn’t long before the sting was gone. It was replaced with a dull ache, but that was mostly overshadowed by a sweet, building fire spreading through your abdomen again as James pounded into you with reckless abandon.

Every muscle in your body felt weak, loose and slack as your husband found that spot inside you. Each thrust was a shock through your overstimulated body. It was like you were toeing the line between pain and pleasure, always an instant from falling fully into one or the other. When James picked up his speed once again, you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Mr. March!” you wailed, body jolting as he released your wrist and instead used his hand to steady your thigh and hold you wide open, “ Mr. March! Oh god, please let me cum!”

Surprisingly, despite the fact that he was dead, James seemed almost as breathless as you while he purred into your ear. “Close your eyes, Y/N. Let the pleasure take you. Cum for me, Mrs. March,”

With one last sharp stroke from James, you wailed and let your orgasm overtake you. This time, though, it wasn’t a wave. Instead, it hit you directly like a ton of bricks. The feeling was heady, a high derived from the shockwaves of pleasure mixing with the sweet pain James always provided when he lost control. Distantly, you could feel your thighs covered in your wet essence as your husband gripped them and drove himself into you ceaselessly, quickly reaching his own climax.

Maybe it was that you hadn’t been satisfied so thoroughly since before you were sick, but you felt absolutely exhausted as the last remains of your release drained from your body. Perhaps you had gone too far with the enthusiasm after being on bed rest for so long… Something deep inside you felt whole, like a piece of you that had been missing all your life had finally slotted into place. You fell into a dreamless sleep as that satisfaction resonated through your thoroughly fucked-out body.

When you woke, you almost felt disconnected from time. It was like waking up from an unexpected nap that went on longer than you had intended it to. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the familiar ache in your lungs and muscles that had been your constant companion was gone, replaced with a cool, tingling numbness. You chuckled a bit to yourself. Had sex been the answer to your problems all along?

Slowly, you rolled onto your side, stretching out your arms and legs before curling up in the sheets. Five more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Unfortunately, your plans for rest were foiled as you felt the bed dip beside you.

“How do you feel, my darling?” James asked. His voice was soft. If you didn’t know him better you would have thought he sounded frightened.

You smiled, letting your eyes flutter open as you took in his face. “Surprisingly, I feel great. I don’t think I’ve felt this good for a long time,”

James smiled back at you, his brown eyes glimmering with some distant emotion. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re starting the road to recovery,”

There was something strange about your husband, you noticed as you sat up, looking around. You definitely weren’t in your own bedroom anymore. Instead, you were tucked nicely into a four-poster bed with soft, red sheets, surrounded by dark wood and art deco accents. Distantly, you touched your chest and registered that you were wearing one of James’ shirts.

“You brought me to your room?” You propped yourself up on his headboard as you took in your new surroundings, watching the golden evening sun filter in through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains.

“Our room, my sweetling,” James corrected.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I like it. I know I’ve technically been here, with Devil’s Night and our little trysts and all, but I’ve never slept in your bed before. It’s soft… nice,”

He offered you a tinny false smile, his hands fidgeting nervously with the edge of the bedspread. “I’m glad you think so, dearest. What’s mine is now yours,”

Distantly, you smelled the faintest traces of the antiseptic soap James used to rid himself of blood. You raised an eyebrow. “How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours. I took the liberty of calling Mrs. Evers to turn down your sheets while you rested,”

“You had time for a kill in just a few hours?”

“Y/N, I-”

As he spoke, you reached out to touch his fidgeting hand only to yank your fingers back to your chest. No… this was wrong.

“Y/N, please, stay calm-”

“Why are you warm?” You asked, breathing heavily, “James? Why are you warm?”

James steadied himself with a deep breath before reaching over to rub gentle circles into your thigh above the blanket.

“I… I may have taken the liberties of… Y/N, please understand that I only did what I must. You were wasting away! And a promise is a promise…. What I’m trying to say is-”

“You killed me?”

“Precisely,”

Your husband bit down on his lip, averting his gaze in the hopes of avoiding your wrath. To his surprise, though, you threw yourself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses as you laughed joyously. You were free! Free from pain and sorrow and th e endless trappings of mortality. And James was the one to free you.

“You brilliant man!” you shouted, excited giggles escaping from your lips as you squeezed his frozen body to your own, “I didn’t even notice! Oh my god, and on our wedding night too? That’s so romantic! How did you do it? Did I have a heart attack and die from the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my whole damn life? Well… existence. I’m not quite alive anymore, am I? What did you use? Did you send me down the body chute?”

As you babbled, James slowly began to function again. You truly were his perfect match. “I slit your femoral artery just as all your muscles began to contract,” he explained, reaching up a hand to cup your cheek, “and I came to my own climax as you showered me in your blood. You didn’t feel a thing,”

You happily settled yourself against James’ chest. “You’re right. If anything, it felt kinda good…” you paused, “What about my body?”

He grinned. “You’re dead now, darling, we can revisit killing you during your little deaths at any time you like. As for your body, I didn’t put you down the chute. I cleaned you up, retrieved your ring, and took you to your casket. It’ll be bricked up in a wall within the week,”

“Aw, James, you had a casket ready for me and everything!”

“I commissioned it the day we first met. After we slept together and I led you to your suite, I went right to Liz and had her make an order. I spared no expense. Dark wood, red velvet lining…”

“Mmm,” you hummed, “It’s a shame we’ll never get to christen it… unless…”

“Darling, you cannot truly be thinking what I presume you are thinking,”

You giggled, pushing James flat onto the bed. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go fuck over my dead body?”

James Patrick March had never gotten hard quicker in all his 126 years of existence.

-------

a/n: Welp! That’s the first smut I have ever written in my entire life. I hope it wasn’t terrible! This oneshot was great practice for a future instillation of Till Forever Falls Apart, so look forward to that lol. Let me know if you liked this and what types of oneshots you’d like to see next! Also, I love comments, so feel free to comment if you feel so inclined.

Please do not upload my works to other sites, thank you!

#james patrick march #james march #james march x reader #james patrick march x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #ahs #ahs hotel #smut #ahs smut #fanfic

[everlarkficexchange]

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up  

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though. 

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death. 

  “Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago. 

  The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

  A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod. 

  That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face. 

  “Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

  I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother. 

  Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

  Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain. 

  It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister. 

  I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life. 

  I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning,  watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children. 

  I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate. 

  We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying. 

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

  “We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag. 

  Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

  I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully. 

  I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles. 

  We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor. 

  My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up. 

  “No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

  I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man. 

  He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me. 

  “My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

  I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names. 

  “Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

  “Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

  Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

  As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

  Marvel nods, grimly. 

  “We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes. 

  “Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

  I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps. 

  “Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

  After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

  I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly. 

  Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?  

  Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

  These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

  “Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk. 

  “Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

  I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow. 

  I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile. 

  “I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly. 

  My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head. 

  Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,” 

  My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers. 

  “Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?” 

  My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

  “Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?” 

  I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

  “Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”  

  I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12. 

  I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be. 

  I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things. 

  Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night. 

  ————————-

  Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings. 

  We talk about baseball:

  “You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?” 

  I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

  “Wow, beautiful and smart!”

  We talk about cars:

  “I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

  “The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?” 

  No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

  We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child. 

  Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly. 

  I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up. 

  “Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

  We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight,  alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden! 

  I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting! 

  Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches. 

  “Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

  “Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

  His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

  “You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!” 

  It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed. 

  A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here. 

  “I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants. 

  I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us. 

  “You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

  “You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

  “My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

  I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

  Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

  I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise. 

  “That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!” 

  We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house. 

  He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound. 

  But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried. 

  ————————-

  Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down. 

  Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

  I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

  I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

  But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something! 

  I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth. 

  I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure. 

  I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes. 

  My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare. 

  At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

  One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

  “Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs. 

  I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

  “I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.” 

  ————————-

  Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face. 

  I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

  “I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,” 

  “Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

  “The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

  “I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…” 

  I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence. 

  My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

  ——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news. 

  I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way. 

  The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters. 

  “It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says. 

  At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long. 

  Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. 

  I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad. 

  Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

  “Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack. 

  I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary. 

  My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!” 

  “Katniss, what’s going on?” 

  I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

  I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

  “At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

  I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care. 

  “That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically. 

  I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t. 

  I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now. 

  “I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

  “Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

  She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath. 

  I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

  ———————-

  My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough. 

  I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold. 

  In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day. 

  There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption. 

  “Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper. 

  “Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

  Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father. 

  I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly. 

  She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation. 

  “Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly. 

  I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?” 

  “It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

  “This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?” 

  My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

  —————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

  “Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

  I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth. 

  “Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

  “Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command. 

  I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,” 

  I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade! 

  Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason! 

  I shudder at the thought. 

  But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

  My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name. 

  Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

  I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible. 

  “Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment. 

  I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

  He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

  A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here. 

  “Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

  “Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.” 

  Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

[asmo-ds]

(1) okay so mc and dia are married, this is their first christmas as a married couple but dia is feeling very overwhelmed and stressed out (they have a pact since they're married and mc can feel to an extent how dia feels bc of it) bc he's basically the king of hell, so they suggest they go and spend christmas in the human realm at mc's house. and since mc is an average person they do normal person things, and they're just very domestic and cute.

Home For The Holidays

Diavolo x MC Fluff

Word Count: 1468

a/n: I really hope you like this I really enjoyed writing it! It was very relaxing and nice to imagine :)

Summary: Though he wants to celebrate the human holiday, Diavolo fears he would be offending his kingdom by celebrating a holy day; so his lovely spouse, MC, suggests they return to their home for the Holidays so he can truly feel the Christmas spirit that humans feel annually

Diavolo stared over his kingdom with sorrow as he drank a cup of hot cocoa. Little did he know his spouse stood in the doorway watching the mopey behavior he’d been showing for days.

MC knew how badly Diavolo had wanted to celebrate Christmas in the Devildom, but they also knew he couldn’t celebrate the birth of a religious figure in Hell. As they made their way towards the large demon he heard their footsteps he shook his head and put on a fake smile.

“Dia, you seem troubled,” MC wraps themselves around him, nuzzling his voluptuous chest with their cheek.

“Do not worry, my love, I was just lost in my thoughts I suppose,” he sighs heavily.

“You know, even demon princes need vacations sometimes, perhaps you could finally see my home in the human world and we could spend Christmas there! What better way to understand the human holiday than witnessing humans celebrating it!” Mc leans back to look at him, keeping their forearms resting on his broad shoulders. His eyes sparkle with excitement as he lifts up his spouse, spinning the, in the air with joy.

“You’re absolutely right! Then it is decided! Tomorrow morning we leave for the human world!” Diavolo loudly proclaims as he leaves kisses all over MC’s face. “BARBATOS,” he calls as he runs off.

“If anything happens to him in the human world,” MC spins on their heel to look at Lucifer who had been standing on the other side of the wall eavesdropping, “the punishment will be severe, MC.”

“... Lucifer I’m married to him you don’t have to threaten me like when we first started dating.” -

The couple emerged from a portal in front of a tiny home that resides in a quiet neighborhood, snow filling their vision which caused MC to groan.

“Shit I can’t even see the driveway - here, Dia, take the bags and this key and head inside I have to shovel before anything else,” Diavolo stares at them, astonished. He nods and opens the front door while MC grabs their shovel and begins to move snow away from their car and their access to the street.

“Demons aren’t built for the cold... so I’ve never thought of coming here during winter,” Diavolo walks back outside murmuring to himself as he watches his lover shovel from afar. He crouches down sticking his hand in the white that coats the doorstep, “Snow...” His eyes glimmer with joy as he brushes the snow around with his bare hand.

“Dia, dear! You’ll catch a cold like that!” MC falls to their knees taking Diavolo’s snowy hand in their own. They lift it up to their face and breathe hot air across the back of his fingers, rubbing the rest with their own cold hands to create heat. Diavolo admires their rosy nose and cheeks as they sniffle occasionally before he looks down at the spot he swept away. ‘Home Sweet Home’ the mat that had been previously hidden read and he smiled as he looked back at his spouse who was now shivering as they attempted to warm them up. He nuzzled his cold nose against their own lovingly before leaving a soft kiss on their lips.

“Come on, let’s head inside!” Dia drags MC to their feet and heads inside, abandoning MC’s mission to shovel their driveway.

When they get inside Diavolo finally takes a look at MC’s small home.

“Wow it’s so...small,” he says, making MC blush and wave their hand in an embarrassed matter.

“Sorry I know it’s not much we can totally head back to the castle if you’d like haha!” MC nervously laughs before Diavolo puts a hand on their cheek, both still cold from the outdoors.

“No no, my love, it is wonderful! It feels so homey and less like a workspace made to hold the responsibility of a whole realm,” he laughs, “I feel more at home here than I do at the castle to be completely honest.” He takes in the scent of MC as it now surrounds him.

“This was my childhood home- my mother and father passed away when I was a teen so I’ve lived on my own until you summoned me for the exchange program,” MC blushes as they look around at the home they’d left behind a few years before. 

“So your entire life was spent in this one home?” Diavolo looks at MC with a small smile. “Well, I’m honored you allowed me into such an important piece of you,” He gives a big goofy grin, and MC giggles.

“We’re married you, dork, of course, I’m going to give you all of me - no matter how small of a piece it may be I will share it with you.” 

After putting their things away MC realizes they have no food that hasn’t expired in the three years they’d been gone. “Oh, do you want to see a human world Grocery store, Dia?” His face brightens up as he nods enthusiastically.

They make their way to the grocery store, Diavolo constantly pointing at random human world winter things and expressing his joy to see them in person.

“Ah, MC, what is this?” He smiles pointing at a candy cane a man in a Santa costume was giving out for donations to some charity.

“A candy cane! Here try it- it’s sweet!” MC exclaims- knowing damn well that it was minty as all hell and their oblivious husband was about to get a very cold mouth instead of the sweetness he was expecting.

Their plan worked as Diavolo immediately spat out the minty treat in surprise, “What is this flavor?! We don’t have things that make our mouths cold where I’m from!” He shouts -  grabbing his water bottle and chugging it and spitting it out as the ice-cold water made contact with his minty mouth.

The whole time Diavolo was flipping out MC was crying with laughter as they watched their husband try and figure out how to get the cold sensation out of his mouth.

After they had finished grocery shopping (which took hours as Diavolo kept asking what every single food was) they headed back to MC’s home and MC offered to cook him a human world dinner that was typically served on Christmas.

Diavolo sat at the dining table as MC placed a plate in front of him with various human world foods he had yet to see.

“MC, what is this?! This mushy buttery stuff?!” He asks through a mouth full of mashed potatoes. “YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE BROWN MISHAPEN EGGS YOU GOT AT THE STORE TURNED INTO THIS?!”

“Yes Dia, they’re not eggs they’re potatoes and don’t talk with your mouth full,” MC giggles reaching over with a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth before placing a soft kiss on the freshly cleaned spot.

As they finished Diavolo offered to start a fire in MC’s fireplace as they set up blankets and pillows in front of the heat with a Christmas movie playing on the tv that hung above the fireplace. 

“Your cooking is very good, MC! Perhaps I should hire you to cook for me instead of Barbatos,” Diavolo pipes up with a hand on his tummy- rubbing the full organ softly.

“If you think my cooking is good wait until tomorrow. Tonight was Christmas eve so we stayed here but tomorrow you’ll get to meet my grandmother- she’s the one who taught me how to cook and I could never prepare.” Suddenly Diavolo sat straight up, staring down at the human.

“You really want me to meet your family?” He softly says looking as if he were about to cry. He was honestly so touched that MC trusted him enough to bring him home to their family.

“Yes of course! You’re my husband and I always talk about you, my grandfather seemed excited to meet you when I called yesterday to tell him I would be home this year-” MC is interrupted by slightly chapped lips on theirs.

They kiss the demon prince back and they lay there for a few minutes making out, relishing in each other’s passionate embrace.

Afterward, Diavolo lays back down, wrapping his arms around his spouse and holding them close. “MC, I am so completely and utterly in love with you, I couldn’t be happier to call you mine. Thank you for allowing me to come here with you. I haven’t felt so relaxed since my father left me as a young boy to carry the responsibility of all evil. I hope you will allow me to join you like this every year.”

“Of course, Diavolo. For the rest of my life and after I swear I will show you what its like to be relaxed and truly loved,” they respond with a big yawn at the end.

After a few moments he looks down to see his lover fast asleep with small snores falling from their slightly parted lips. He chuckles softly and brushes some hair out of their eyes before placing a kiss on their forehead and closing his own eyes, falling asleep to the sound of a dying fire and the credits of a Christmas movie.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #diavolo #obey me fluff #christmas #obey me fanfic #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me oneshot #obey me one master to rule them all #om #om diavolo #om! diavolo #diavolo fluff #obey me diavolo fluff

[kittyprincessofcats]

She-Ra S5 E09 - An Ill Wind

In which the Best Friend Squad’s back on Etheria and I’m back to writing up my thoughts about it. (The real question is whether I’ll manage to finish these posts before season 5’s one-year-anniversary.) I probably really don’t need to say this anymore, but there might be spoilers for the rest of the season in this post.

- I think it’s funny how Catra can’t stand teleporting, but what’s even more important is how visibly concerned for her Adora is each time. Have you seen how she touches Catra’s shoulders and looks at her with such a worried expression? D’awww.

- “Wow, you don’t trust the princesses? I am shocked.” No Glimmer, Catra’s 100% right. This has nothing to do with trusting the princesses; you really don’t know who’s chipped and which places are occupied by clones. Perfuma literally told you the rebellion was compromised.

- “Catra’s right.” THANK YOU, ADORA! (Also, I love Catra’s satisfied little smirk in the background when Adora says this.)

- I just paused the episode when they arrive in Erelandia and counted the Horde flags you can see hanging all over the town: 14, plus one giant Horde sign in the sky and a spire not too far away. Prime, are you compensating for something? (Also, Adora has an arm on Catra’s back again. Cute.)

- Is it a little disappointing that all the rebellions against Horde Prime on other planets got reduced to one brief exposition scene where a clone mentions they’re happening and a few quick images? Yeah. But I also get why the show just didn’t have the time for more and wanted to focus on Etheria.

- Speaking of, are those the magicats we see in the second image? Interesting… I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of Catra potentially being an alien as well. But then again, the show never clearly answers it one way or another, and there’s no reason magicats couldn’t have existed on multiple planets.

- Also, am I understanding this right: The Star Siblings started the intergalactic rebellion after meeting the Best Friend Squad? And now there are already rebels on several planets? Nice job, Star Siblings!

- “My heart aches for these misguided children.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever properly addressed the heavily religious symbolism around Horde Prime and his cult, but… that right there is *such* a Christian-extremist-coded line, holy hell…

- So Prime says he wants to use the Heart of Etheria “to bring peace to all the universe” and at this point I’m not entirely sure what his exact goal is. Does he just want to destroy all the planets with the Heart? Because I’ll be honest, I tend to find “I just want to destroy everything” a bit boring as a motivation in villains. What’s the point of him ruling the universe if there’s no one left to rule over? I mean, I know Prime had his whole “If there’s no one left, there are no wars, etc.” speech in an earlier episode, but that’s also just so dumb.

- Where did the Best Friend Squad even get those cloaks? Either way, Catra looks adorable with the outline of her ears showing under the hood. 🥺

- “I hope you, too, are full only of love for Horde Prime… and have no crippling doubt eating at your soul.” / “Brothers, there is nothing to see here!” Like I said in an earlier post, all of Wrong Hordak’s lines are absolute winners. Also, I love how the other clones just keep falling for his very obvious bluffs.

- Wrong Hordak learning to wink so quickly makes me jealous because I can’t wink. (No, I really can’t; I’ve tried. Whenever I try to only close one eye, I always end up closing both. If anyone has good advice on learning to wink, let me know.)

- I love the character designs of the mushroom people.

- Catra wasn’t wrong about the locals selling them out and not telling them anything useful. The others should listen to her more.

- Bow posing as the “average traveler passing though” is especially funny because I’m pretty sure there are no “travelers passing through” in times of Horde Prime.

Catra: “A town that hates princesses? Should I buy property here?”

Everyone else: *glares*

Catra: “Is what I would have said before I joined you. Go, team.”

😂😂😂 Catra’s quiet little “Go, team” in the end is what gets me most about this moment 😂. She’s adorable and trying her best, okay?

- I love how Wrong Hordak just calls everyone “brother” regardless of gender. Also, Adora’s little “Did you just wink at me?” / “That’s not how winking works!” moments are hilarious and adorable.

- “You’re wearing hooded cloaks, it’s highly suspicious.” Okay, mushroom lady’s not wrong, though. And I love how someone finally points this out, since hooded cloaks are so often used as “undercover” disguises in shows like this.

- That said, both she and mushroom guy earlier did try to sell the Best Friend Squad out super quickly. Like, I get that the locals are scared, but still… They could have tried to stay safe without running towards the clones to tell them everything right away.

- I’m just noticing that Erelandia has mushrooms everywhere. Obviously the people are mushrooms, but there are also mushrooms growing outside in the streets everywhere, and the shop they’re in is selling mushrooms and clothes with mushrooms on them as well.

- Both Bow and Glimmer blowing their covers almost immediately and Adora just quietly shaking her head at both of them in the background is amazing.

- Love Catra (and Melog) just casually stealing a mushroom from a mushroom lady.

- So Catra’s just chilling in a tree and eating stolen mushrooms and Entrapta wants to analyze samples that’ll be ready in 4-6 weeks – neither of them’s really helping right now. But then again, Catra wanted to leave in the first place because she thought the locals would sell them out (and she was right about that), so she probably thinks it’s not worth the effort.

- Also, you know who this scene with Entrapta and Catra is missing? Scorpia. If there is one problem I have with season 5, it’s that we didn’t get any Super Pal Trio reunion / moments with all of them on the same side now. (Or just in general, that we didn’t get to see Scorpia and Catra properly talking things out.)

- “That’s the windy one, right?” Okay, am I the only one who finds this line weird? Spinnerella literally has Adora, Bow and Glimmer trapped in a tornado as Entrapta says this. Obviously she’s “the windy one”? Entrapta can literally see that??

- “Lord Prime has given me peace.” Oh, I’m just realizing that’s just what Catra said when she was chipped. That’s got to be awful for Adora to hear again.

- Glimmer grabbing Bow and Adora’s hands and teleporting them out of the tornado was badass.

Adora: “How are we supposed to fight our own friends?”

Catra: “It never stopped you before.”

OMG. I love that Catra still considers their time as enemies as “being friends”.

- I really love Netossa’s entrance. What makes it really cool to me is that at that point the Best Friend Squad didn’t even know if there were any unchipped princesses left, so Netossa jumping in there with a casual “Welcome back, guys” was just an amazing moment.

- Also, I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I really like that this season finally made Spinnerella and Netossa more important characters. (And I wonder how much network censorship of LGBT+ storylines had to do with them not being that important earlier on.)

- Hordak getting flashbacks of Entrapta again (while Prime looks at his older body’s memories) is just 🥺. I like how Prime talks about Etheria while Hordak slowly remembers more and more about his own life on Etheria.

- “So, the only person I’m fighting here is… my own wife.” I love the on-screen confirmation that they’re married! But also, Netossa wanting to attack Catra and Wrong Hordak at first was pretty funny.

- Catra and Glimmer’s respective expressions when they hear about Scorpia and Micah being chipped are a gut punch. Also, Netossa talking about how she has to get Spinnerella back is making me tear up.

- “Where are the rebels?” “Right beside you!” 😂😂😂 Amazing, just amazing.

- Love to see Catra taking out those bots. She’s so badass ❤️.

- “Be careful.” “Always am.” I wonder at what point Netossa started to realize what’s going on between Catra and Adora.

- Love Netossa whistling at She-Ra’s new look. Your wife’s right there, darling. But then again, who wouldn’t whistle at She-Ra’s new look?

- Honestly, why did anyone ever say Spinnerella and/or Netossa were weak? Their fight here really shows how powerful both of them are when they don’t hold back.

- “Stop holding back. She won’t.” Looking past how hard this must be for Netossa, this line really sums up why so many characters in shows like this seemingly become more powerful when they turn evil (or less powerful when they turn good): Because the bad guys have no reason to hold back.

- Adora firing a rainbow beam from her sword was amazing. I wish we’d gotten to see a bit more of She-Ra’s new powers this season.

- “Please. I love you. Come back to me.” I’m crying 😢. That’s a nice first taste of all the “I love you”s to come in the finale. And I love that it works (even if just for a bit). The whole “power of love helps you break free from mind control” thing might be a cliché, but it’s a cliché I love, so…yay, awesome!

- But also, and I’ll probably talk about this more when I get to the next episode (that I had a few problems with), I like how Netossa doesn’t only rely on the power of love, but still realizes she has to first fight Spinnerella without holding back to get her into a position where they can even have this talk.

- Yay, mushroom town is saved!

- Catra reassuring Netossa that Spinnerella will be okay was so sweet. She’s really trying to be nice and I think she’s doing great 🥺. (Also, Adora looks at her so proudly.)

- I just noticed that when She-Ra replaces the Horde symbol in the sky with her sword symbol, all the Horde flags around town are already gone, too. Did Catra, Glimmer and the others just like… take all of those flags down in between fighting the bots? Or did Wrong Hordak maybe walk around taking off the flags while the others were fighting?

- That said, the rainbow sword in the sky looks amazing.

- “I think Horde Prime is going to know She-Ra’s back.” “Good.” Love Adora’s determined expression here.

- Geez Horde Prime, no need to punch the screen. The screen didn’t do anything to you.

- Okay, so Horde Prime finally decides to go to Etheria himself, and when he announces that, Hordak looks at the crystal in his hand – it’s all coming together.

- “This is where the rebellion is hiding out?” “Yup. Why, have you been here?” The looks on Glimmer and Catra’s faces here are amazing. People have of course already written all kinds of amazing metas analyzing their expressions, but the short version is that Glimmer seems to remember their fight fondly, while Catra seems embarrassed.

- Perfuma trapping them all in vines and demanding to see their necks is not only hilarious, but also shows that the rebellion has learned from their past mistakes. 👍

- All of their reunions (Bow and Perfuma, Glimmer and Frosta, Adora and Swift Wind, Entrapta and Emily) were super sweet – I like big reunion scenes 🥺. Wrong Hordak meeting Emily was adorable. Perfuma clinging to Bow and crying about how she doesn’t want to be in charge anymore had me laughing so hard 😂.

- Okay so, I know Frosta’s punch breaks the mood a moment later, but I really think Adora wanting to officially introduce Catra to everyone after seeing her standing there alone while everyone else was having big reunions was super sweet. The way her face falls when she sees Catra standing there sadly, the way she asks her to come here so gently… it’s just so sweet. 🥺

- Also, unpopular opinion, but am I the only one who didn’t really find Frosta punching Catra funny? (And the same goes for Scorpia electrocuting her in the next episode, by the way.) I know these moments are meant to be cathartic “drag the former villain because some people are still mad at them” moments, but Catra’s whole story is largely about being a victim of physical abuse. Wasn’t there some way for the story to make fun of her without having other characters physically assault her? I like how Catra’s redemption was handled overall, but moments like those kind of rub me the wrong way. (Netossa trapping her in a net was fine though, because that didn’t actually harm her.)

- That said, Adora’s “Catra’s with us now. Okay? Hmm.” was hilarious. I love how she just gives the briefest explanation and then turns away from Frosta with a smile and little “hmm”, just completely expecting Frosta to be fine with this now.

- That ending shot of all of them together is epic.

So, what changed this episode is that Erelandia was freed, the space group has reunited with the remaining princesses, and Horde Prime is heading for Etheria. Good episode!

[Previous episode]   [Next episode]

#spop #spop s5 #spop s5 spoilers #An Ill Wind #Spinnetossa #Spinnerella #Netossa #Catra #Adora #Bow #Glimmer #Entrapta #Wrong Hordak #Scorpia #Frosta #Perfuma #Catradora #Horde Prime #Hordak #Best Friend Squad #Erelandia #long post #actually this one didn't even get that long

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

WATCH THIS FIRST TRUST ME: Taylor Tomlinson On Growing Up Religious & Abstinent | CONAN on TBS.

Five, trying to explain to Lila why joining their family is a terrible mistake that she will surely regret for the rest of her life no matter how similar she may be to them in spirit: I love my siblings, because I am an adult, I’m a grown-up, yeah -

Five: My siblings, grown-up men and women, say things like

Five: “UGH. I hate my brother.” And I’m like

Five: What are you, four? (The age, not the number, we all know Klaus loves all of us, we’re not idiots.) (Well, mostly.) Nobody got enough hugs, hug yourself, walk it off.

Five: People who hate their families have unrealistic standards; they think families are made up of these superior beings, and they’re not!

Five: They’re just people, who suck, like the rest of us! That’s how we should introduce them, just like

Five: “These are my people! Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Ben, and Vanya! They do what they can.”

Five: Set the bar low. Have you realized that your family messed you up yet?

Five: Yeah, you find a strange dent in the back of your head, you’re like

Five: “What happened there?” They’re like

Five: “We did our best, that’s what happened there. You were slippery, so.”

Five: You ever have this happen to you as an adult, where you realize your family messed you up based on how other people react when you tell them stories about your childhood?

Five: Stories you thought were fine, cause when you’re a kid you’re stupid?

Five: You’re just like, *does a stupid little dance* “Everybody gets tied in the yard!” Like, you don’t know!

Five: Fast forward ten years you’re at a barbeque, everyone’s goin’ around swappin’ stories like

Five: “Oh my god, my mom was crazy. She used to make us take our shoes off in the house!”

Five: And you’re like, *fake high-pitched laugh* “I know! We wore muzzles at night!”

Five: *keeps laughing hysterically* What happened, why’d everyone get sad? What is it?

Five: *completely serious once again* My siblings are cool. My dad, not so much.

Five: My dad’s very conservative, he still thinks gay people shouldn’t be allowed to get married, which

Five: You’re gonna be real disappointed, buddy, cause all a your kids are gay. Seriously. Allison and Luther are datin’ Ray, Vanya’s got a girlfriend named Sissy - okay well you’d love her name I’ll say that much - Diego and Ben are both mooning after Klaus and Klaus is, well, Klaus. Plus there’s me, and I don’t feel any a that cause I’m lucky, and also I’m not your perfect little girl Dad, never was because I’M A BOY anyway back to the matter at hand

Five: I don’t know, you ever hear older people say stuff and you’re like

Five: “Oh, someone missed a software update!” Like that’s not, can’t just say that anymore.

Five: *spacing out* Out loud.

Five: We’re in a Target. Be quiet.

Five: *back to full-blown peppiness*

Five: It’s crazy! He tortured all of us for eighteen years, and the whole time, he was like

Five: *creepy old man voice* “Homosexuality is a sin.”

Five: And we’re like

Five: “Without homosexuality, you would not have a job. Us sparkly teens put food on your table, don’t bite the jazz hand that feeds you.”

Five: Growing up, he encouraged us to abstain from drugs, and alcohol, and sex, and enjoyment, and we really took all of that to heart, uh.

Five: I mean, Klaus is a recovering addict, Diego smokes weed to sleep, Ben is dead and therefore does whatever the fuck he wants, I’ve drunk more alcohol than there is on the whole ass earth and I know that because I drank every bottle I ever came across in the apocalypse, Allison and Vanya both smoke, I don’t know why, really only Luther followed all the rules and then he got all depressed because Dad sent him to the moon or whatever so now he’s all fucked up too, anyway -

Five: But it’s so easy to mess kids up, I have a lot of respect for my mother - not my father, he was a piece of shit - even babysitting -

Five: I just babysat my siblings, I was so nervous about it, I’m like

Five: “I don’t wanna mess these kids up. (Well, more than they already are.)”

Five: So I’m just gonna do everything myself, and I’m not gonna talk to them.

Five: And everything’ll be fine.

Five: So I go off to do my thing. My siblings, they’re idiots, adorable, they come running after me five minutes after I show up and go

Five: “Hey Five, what was the apocalypse like?”

Five: What? How do I explain severe isolation, desperation, desolation, depression, and survivalist coping mechanisms including assassination and imaginary friends to these children?

Five: How I even begin to explain the pain of loss and loneliness and the helpless hopelessness of knowing you will always be alone and that there’s nothing you can do about it?

Five: It’s complicated! I time-travelled, they died, I was sad, like, whatever, you get it.

Five: But I wanted to be honest, so I thought about it carefully, like

Five: What was the apocalypse like that’s similar to something they’ve done? Like, okay

Five: “Do you remember when you got lost at the grocery store? That was scary, right? But then do you remember the feeling you got when you finally found one of us? How safe and happy and relieved you were? And how you ran up to whoever you found and you grabbed their arm and then you looked up and it wasn’t one of us?”

Five: *takes a sip of scotch* Yeah. Not my best moment. They wouldn’t let me sleep alone that night, all cuddled up around me like a bunch a octopuses. Fuckin’ annoying.

Five: *waves a dismissive hand* Anyway. I love them. You still wanna join the family?

Lila:

Lila:

Lila:

Lila: *slowly shakes her head*

Five: *grins*

Five: Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks for killing your mom for us though!

Five, teleporting away: Bye!

Lila:

Lila:

Lila:

The Handler’s ghost: You need to get better taste in men.

#source: taylor tomlinson #obviously #i'm not even sorry anymore guys #just #this is our life now and we all have to deal with it #tua #the umbrella academy #the hargreeves #the hargreeves siblings #but if lila joined the family #aka apocalypse numero tres #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #lila pitts #the handler #enjoy this fuckers #have a nice day y'all #bye ✌

[metelis-favorite]

am i so bad? (that you hate me?)

Summary: Zane found himself at the outskirts of his family for most of his life. Maybe this time, they'd break away with him. Word count: 2796 Warnings: Transphobia, Islamophobia, misgendering, reference and results of past emotional abuse to children, discussion of weight in a negative tone Author’s Notes: This was not planned to be the first installment of the streamer au!! In fact, it has little to do with the fact that they are streamers at all.  This was written as a vent fic and turned into something a tad nicer than that.  Give me a comment or kudos on Ao3!

“Hey, mom.”  Zianna burst through the kitchen entrance as Zane closed the door behind him.

“Oh, Zuzu!” she exclaimed running over to wrap him in a hug, nearly lifting him off the ground.  He withheld the urge to wince and hesitantly wrapped his arms around his mother, patting her back awkwardly.  She set him back firmly on the ground but rocked them back and forth and something in Zane’s chest sunk as he felt something wet soaking into his sweater.  “Oh, Zuzu, you never visit anymore.” She pulled back, clutching his arms.  “Though it seems like you’ve been feeding yourself just fine!”  Zane smiled shakily, but he felt it coming out more of a grimace.

“You should see Garroth,” he tried to joke, “pretty sure being a father made him gain a few.”  Immediately Zianna’s face dropped into a disapproving pout and she tightened her grip on Zane’s arms.

“That is not funny, Zuzu,” she scolded. “Your brother is working as hard as he can for that little boy.”  Zane scowled.

“Malachi isn’t a boy, mother.”  Zianna elected to ignore him, giving his arms a punctuating (and painful) squeeze before letting go.  She walked back towards the kitchen and Zane felt five years old all over again, trailing after his mother in hopes she would pay attention to him. “So…” he started awkwardly, clearing his throat, “how’s dad doing? He’s at work today, right?” Zianna nodded excitedly, opening a packet of deli meat.

“Oh, yes! He and Garroth have been working on a brand-new acquisition for the company and it’s just taking up so much time.” She turned to smile at her son. “But you know how much your father loves his work.   It’s such a charming quality in a man to see him so dedicated.” A distant memory of a tenth birthday without his father flashed through his head.  He shoved it down.  He could bitch about it later to his therapist.

“Yeah, that’s- that’s cool.  Good for him.”  Zane leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. He waited for a second, the air between the two of them stale and tense.  Zianna kept smiling, placing pieces of ham into sandwiches. “What are you- uh, what are you making?”

“Oh! Well, you know Gar-Gar and his son are coming by as well, right? I’m making some sandwiches for him!” Zane winced, his lips curling into a scowl.

“Mother, Malachi isn’t a boy, we’ve been over this.” Zianna just waved him off.

“Oh, kids are kids, Zuzu, he doesn’t know anything yet.”  Zane’s shoulders hunched up and he subconsciously rubbed his sweater where he knew his top surgery scars lay underneath. Speaking of which, he needed to make a deposit to Vylad and Garroth’s accounts today.  It should be one of the last payments before he’s not in debt anymore.

“That’s not-” Zane started, his voice small. He shook his head and cut himself off.  It wasn’t worth it. “Malachi doesn’t eat ham, either, mom.” That made Zianna stop mid-second, a piece of ham in her hand.

“What do you mean?” Zane shrugged his shoulders.

“Malachi is Muslim, mom, Garroth told you about this.  They don’t eat pig meat.”  Zianna scoffed, but he could see the shake in her hands.

“Well, that’s just silly,” she said, her voice rising in pitch.  Zane swallowed nervously.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts.  “Why doesn’t he just follow Irene?”

“Uh- because they don’t have to?” Zane said.  “They’re not forced to follow whatever religion Garroth follows, mom, they were religious before they met Garroth.” Zianna shook her head rapidly before Zane even finished his sentence, closing her fist around the meat in her hand.

“No, but- Why wouldn’t Garroth have Malachi convert?” The question made Zane’s stomach flip a few times.  The spot where the cross on his chain necklace would have rested on his collarbone burned.

“Because he’s not an ass, mother,” Zane said, his voice taking on a sharper tone. “Malachi doesn’t have to do anything they don’t want to and Garroth certainly isn’t going to force his child to join a religion that they don’t believe in.”  Zianna made a noise and Zane could see her shoulders tensing. The room went quiet for a moment before Zianna opened her fist, letting the ham drop onto the counter.  She stalked over to the opposite side of the kitchen, ripping a trash bag from the container.  She walked back to the counter where the sandwiches and in one movement, she swept the sandwiches, chips, and packages of deli meat into the bag.  Zane flinched at the sound of the food hitting the bottom of the bag.

“Well, I guess I did all of that work for nothing!” She said, her voice squeaky and shaking with barely-contained anger. “Gratitude means nothing anymore, apparently.” Zane leaned forward onto the balls of his feet, ready to make it to the front door in less than five seconds if his mother decided to move his way. He didn’t say anything.

She tied up the bag, dropping into the garbage bin he knew was underneath the sink cabinet.  Zianna brushed her hands off and then propped them onto her hips.  Zane stayed silent.  She turned towards him, her breath shaky and her smile as false as the Louboutin heels he saw by the door. “Well, dear?” she prompted. “How’s work been?”

The change in topic made Zane’s head spin but he was pretty sure this was the only time she would ever ask him about his job and any chance to escape her fury was latched onto with both hands. “It’s- uh, it’s been good,” he said, his voice stumbling. “Subs have been going up at a pretty steady rate and if it- uh- keeps up for a few more months, I might be able to move into a better apartment.” Zianna nodded but he could tell she wasn’t absorbing anything he said. “Aph would move with me, I think.”  That caught her attention.  She squealed.

“Oh, you’re still dating Aphmau? Oh, that is so amazing!” Zianna giggled. “I can’t wait to be a mother-in-law.” Zane blinked a few times.

“You are a mother-in-law,” Zane reminded. “Garroth is married, you do know that, right?” Zianna’s smile seemed to turn cold and Zane beat himself up for even saying anything. “Besides!” he rushed to push past his mistake, “Aph and I aren’t dating or anything, she’s just a good roommate.” Zianna just shook her head, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“Oh, but I’m sure you’ll end up dating soon! That Aphmau has always had a thing for you, you know.” She winked dramatically and Zane wrinkled his nose on instinct.

“…Sure, mom,” he said at last, not willing to get into another argument with her.  Zianna wiggled in her space.

The sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway broke the tense atmosphere that was starting to build up and Zane’s shoulders untensed.

Garroth and his relationship was difficult.  His relationship with Vylad was even more so.  But one good thing that came out of them both being adults and living away from their parents was the chance to finally say shit to each other and not have their parents constantly scolding them (read: Zane) for starting a fight.  There were nights were they just screamed at each other, mourning the childhoods they never got.  Zane better knew the pressure shoved onto Garroth and while a part of him would always feel like his brother was ungrateful for the opportunities he was given as a child, Zane didn’t know if he wouldn’t react in that same way in Garroth’s position.

In a similar vein, he finally got the apology he had been craving for so many years.  They were both on the ground, drunk out of their minds, and Garroth just erupted into sobs, saying that every day he woke up with guilt eating away at him.  That he knew what an awful brother he had been and that he was so sure that whatever relationship they might’ve had was crushed because of his arrogance.

Zane wasn’t faultless and he knew that their relationship as kids could’ve gone a lot smoother had he not gone out of his way to antagonize his family.  But the feeling of relief when his big brother arrived at their childhood home, instead of dread or jealously, wasn’t something he’d trade for anything.

Zianna bustled over to the door, pulling it open and waving to Garroth, who was assumedly getting out of his car and unbuckling Malachi.  Zane followed her, standing behind her with his hands still shoved firmly into his pockets.  He saw Malachi practically bounce out of the car, ignoring Garroth’s call to slow down as they ran up the steps to the door.  Zianna opened her arms and knelt down for a hug, but Malachi bolted past her to attach themself to Zane’s legs.  “Hi, Uncle Zane!” they exclaimed.  Zane blinked a few times, before patting his nibling gently on the head. They cocked their head to the side. “Is it a no-touch day? Dad says sometimes you have no-touch days.”  Zianna moved to open her mouth, having risen from her knees, but Zane cut her off.

“It’s alright, kid,” he said gruffly, resisting the urge to smile as Malachi tightened their grip around his knees. “You want- You want up?” Immediately, Malachi’s face nearly split in half from the grin they bore and they unlocked their hands to reach up towards Zane’s face, making a grabby motion.  Zane bent down slightly, grabbing the kid underneath the armpits and lifting.  A muscle in his back twinged, but he shifted his weight onto his legs and pulled himself and Malachi up the rest of the way.  The eight-year-old wrapped their arms around Zane’s neck, resting their head on his shoulder, and Zane swallowed harshly, trying to keep down tears from welling in his eyes.  Zianna was practically glaring at them but she didn’t say anything as Garroth stepped into the home.

“Dad!” Malachi exclaimed, lifting their head up. “Hi!” Garroth laughed, reaching a hand out and Malachi reached their hand in return, giving each other a gentle squeeze.

“I just saw you, bud,” Garroth said, grinning. Malachi shrugged, tucking their head back under Zane’s chin.

“I know,” they said cheekily.

“Did you say hi to Ms. Zianna yet?” Garroth asked and Zane wrinkled his nose.  His brother shot him a ‘I know what you’re thinking and I’m thinking the same thing but I have to be a good influence on my kid’ look over Malachi’s shaking head.  “Can you say hello please?”

Malachi looked over to Zianna and she waved softly. “Hey, sweetie!”

“Hi,” they mumbled, shoving their face into Zane’s hoodie.  Zianna’s face dropped into a disapproving scowl, but Garroth stepped in, his nerves showing all over his face.

“I think Malachi is just a bit shy today,” he said, his voice bordering on shaking. “They’ve had a long day.”  Zianna harrumphed slightly, crossing her arms, and if Zane weren’t focused on not pissing off his mother and not dropping his nibling, he might’ve laughed at his six-foot-three brother cowering in front of his five-foot-four mother.

He thought of his own five-foot-eleven height and the scene of him hunched over while his mother threw the sandwiches away and dismissed the thought of laughing entirely.  Malachi tightened their grip around his neck and he adjusted his grip so that they were pressed closer to his chest. “I see Malachi plenty,” Zianna complained. “Why won’t he give me a hug?!” Malachi made a noise and Garroth looked pained.

“Mother,” his brother said gently, “we’ve been over this.”  Zianna shook her head.

“Honey, I’m the mother to one of those kinds of people, I know how this works.”  Zane inhaled sharply.  Garroth gave a full body wince.

“Can we not have this conversation in front of them, please?” Garroth pleaded, his voice small.  Zane maneuvered Malachi to one side, slipping his hand into his basketball shorts to pull out his phone.   His mother shot back something, but he was too busy sending off a text to Laurance.

 2:58 P.M.

Outlawed in-law: SOS.  Mom’s saying shit.

Gar’s boytoy: :thumbsup:

  Judging from the kid trying to – affectionately – choke him, it wasn’t good.  Looking at Garroth, who was looking at their mother like he wanted to cry, Zane made the executive decision to back away and make his way to the stairs leading up to his old room. “Wher’we goin’? Malachi said, their voice muffled by their face being mushed into his hoodie.

“We,” Zane said, hefting the child further up his hip, “are gonna go check out your dad’s old room.” Malachi perked up, lifting their head.

“Daddy lived here?” Zane nodded.

“So did me and Vylad.”

“Avie Vylad?” Zane nodded again, stepping up the last stair and walking towards the back of the hall.

“The very same.”  Zane stopped in front of a door still decorated in medals and stickers of achievement.  He expected to feel some sting at the blatant representation of everything younger Zane resented but he found nothing there.  Blinking slightly, he reached out for the knob and pushed the door open.

The walls were bare – Garroth had taken down most of his posters when he moved out for college – but his old bedspread and desk were still there.  “Is this where daddy grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Where were you?”

“I was the room to the left.”

“With all the black stickers with bad words?” Zane snorted.

“Yep.” Malachi wiggled, unlatching their hands from behind Zane’s neck.  He bent over slightly, letting Malachi slip from his arms and land on the floor. “Your dad and I had some pretty different ideas on what constituted good décor.” Malachi peeked into the closet while Zane sat on the bed.

“Oh, woahh, there are some boxes in here!” they said excitedly.

“Yeah, your dad left some stuff here when he moved out.  I think he’s forgotten about it to be honest.” Malachi turned around, giving Zane a quizzical look.

“How could he forget his stuff?”  Zane shrugged.

“We had a lot of stuff as kids.”  Malachi looked down at the ground, their tiny brow furrowed.  They grabbed at the green scarf-slash-shawl wrapped around their shoulders.

“I have a lot of stuff now,” they said after a few moments. “I guess that makes sense.”  Zane scooted back on the bed, so his back could rest against the wall.  “Were you n’ dad friends?” Zane furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard papa saying something once about you n’ dad not being friends but you guys seem like friends so I wanted to ask.”  Zane blinked a few times, not sure how to respond.  Two decades of pain and anger and betrayal seemed to flash before his eyes and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain that to his eight-year-old nibling.

“I guess…” he started, “I guess you could say we weren’t friends when we were your age.” Malachi frowned and moved over to the bed to sit next to Zane.

“But are you guys friends now?”  Zane moved to rest his hand on Malachi’s head.

“I think we are, yeah.  We did some mean shi- stuff to each other when we were kids because we were angry at other people and took it out on each other.  But we’ve talked about it now.  We’ve said sorry.”  Zane patted Malachi once before resting his hand in his lap. “If you wanna know more, you should ask your dad.  Not all of this story is mine to tell.”  Malachi got a confused look on their face, but something must’ve clicked because their expression relaxed.

A knock sounded from the door.  Both Malachi and Zane looked up to find Garroth there, a soft smile on his face.  Zane squinted and saw the tired look in his eyes, the dark eye bags of nightmares that Zane saw mirrored on his own face near constantly seemed to have been amplified by whatever conversation he had with their mother.

“Papa called, bud, we gotta head back to the house.”  Malachi pouted, crossing their arms.

“I don’t wanna go,” they whined. “I wanna stay with Uncle Zane.” It took a second for Zane to process the statement, but before he could start sputtering nervously, Garroth just laughed.

“Uncle Zane can come with us, if he wants.” Zane gave Garroth a look and his brother shrugged good-naturedly.  Malachi wiggled and looked up Zane excitedly.

“Please?” they said and Zane was surprised by the earnestness in their voice.

“Sure,” he said, surprised once again by the fact that he actually did want to go with them, “I’ll come with.”

#tw weight #tw transphobia #tw islamophobia #tw child abuse #mys streamer au #mys #au installement #my writing #zane ro'meave #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvahl #malachi aphmau #trans zane ro'meave

[hotchley]

that’s okay

Oh my god it’s out before midnight!! Are you proud of me?? Once again, it has not been proofread, but that’s fine, this is for fun! Also, the same line where Aaron says he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore is also where I lost the plot so erm... yeah

Once again: little plot. Not much point. Low-key hate the ending. May have fucked up Hotch’s character. But I had fun writing it so we’re just... yeah we’re going with.

Title comes from That’s Okay by The Hush Sound (would 10/10 recommend), and I have to thank Caitlin ( @themetaphorgirl ) for that one because I was sat there like: I have everything but a title and then I remembered That’s Okay and was like AHA

Trigger Warnings: trauma, trauma responses, child abuse, religion, religious trauma

read on ao3!

When he finishes his speech, he meets Erin's eyes, determined and angry. At her, for pushing him and doubting his abilities in the one place he felt like he could maintain control in. At Jason, for once again putting him in a situation where he has to take the fall and piece things back together. Because he has to play this stupid game of politics. At the team, because it is easy. 

But most of all, he is angry at himself because he shouldn't be angry at them. He shouldn't be angry at Jason or Erin. He shouldn't be angry, because anger means he's creeping closer and closer to the line that separates himself from his father and if he goes too far, he will lose everything and he won't be able to come back. Ever.

"Aaron," she says, and his glare loses its power. She says his name, his first name, like it means something. With a gentleness that he had never felt before Haley softly repeated it to herself, as though she was trying to test out each syllable before she got too close.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "That comment about your son was unfair. I know you love them all equally."

She shakes her head. "Don't apologise. You know I don't enjoy doing this. Undermining you like this. Asking these questions, saying these things. But if we are both going to keep our jobs, then I have to."

At that moment, she is not Strauss. She is Erin, just another victim of bureau politics, trying to keep her head above water. It's what causes Aaron to reply, instead of just walking out.

"I know," he says. "I know."

"Why don't you ever let Jason take the fall for his mistakes? I'm not an idiot, I know these things aren't your doing. He's a grown man. He can accept the consequences that come with acting the way he does. You don't need to take them."

She doesn't understand. He does. He needs to take them because taking punishment is the only way he can atone for the multitude of sins he commits every single day. He needs to take the blame because he is the only one that can come back from it. The only one that can be replaced with ease. 

He needs to take the blame because it reminds him that this, just like everything he has been stripped of in his life- his childhood, his ability to love, his warmth, his innocence, his faith in both something else and humanity- this can and will be taken from him the moment he puts a foot wrong.

The Bureau, much like the small town in Virginia that he will never refer to as home because he never once felt safe, not even when Haley held him with gentle and unblemished hands, does not show anyone mercy. Least of all those that dare to speak out against injustice.

"I do. Jason Gideon is nothing without the BAU. I can't take that from him," he says. 

He hates to be vulnerable with her, but she is the only one left that he truly trusts. That remembers the boy he was when he first joined. That knows the lock on his drawer is not because there is alcohol, but because he keeps the file with his incomplete profile of George Foyet in there.

"And you?" she asks.

"And I?" 

"What are you without the BAU?"

And isn't that the question he wishes he knew the answer to? He is not a father, he knows that much. A real father wouldn't have hesitated to transfer after Jason returned. A real father would kiss their son goodnight without feeling guilty and hug them without fear. And he is not a husband. On a technicality, he is, but even he can see that Haley isn't happy. The day where she leaves will be sooner rather than later, and he will be powerless to stop her.

A part of him doesn't want to fight. It will be easier on both of them if she leaves before the inevitable happens. Before the pieces of himself he gives up to do this job become irretrievable. Before he is more than just his father's mirror, he is his father's son. 

Before the job he is nothing without ruins her life beyond repair.

"I don't know," he confesses. In some strange way, he feels like a child again. Being asked by the priest what he thinks his punishment for lying about what really happens in the Hotchner family home should be, even though he wasn't lying. He was never lying. They were all just too afraid to confront the truth.

The same way he was.

"Get some rest. I'll speak to the Director and other higher-ups. You'll have a job to come back to. I promise."

It is an impossible promise, one she may not be able to keep, but her tone is gentle and her words soothe him the way a parents' declarations of love never had, so he simply nods and exits her office. 

He doesn't look at any of the team when he gets back to his office. He doesn't bother to knock on Jason's door to make sure he isn't looking through the Book of the Damned. When Derek calls his name, he speeds up, knowing that out of all of them, he owes him the most answers, but finds himself completely unable to give them.

Haley doesn't know that he is returning. He doesn't have the energy to tell her. As he turns onto their road, he is almost tempted to keep going. Past their house. Past her sister's apartment. Past her parents' house and his father's grave. Past everything that keeps him grounded.

The idea of giving into temptation was something drilled out of him long ago. So he turns into their driveway, wondering what the neighbours will say when one of them inevitably moves out. Will they find it sad, that the young couple they had all hoped would last, had fallen apart? Will they wonder what the final straw was?

Haley is still in her work clothes when he enters the living room. She had already picked Jack up from his daycare on her way back, and her son- as far as he's concerned, he's nothing more than the sperm donor- babbles away happily as he plays with the toys his mother and aunt had picked out for him on their last day out together.

"You're back early," she says, without any malice. 

"Strauss told me to get some rest," he replies. "How are the students?"

She smiles at the mention of her class. "Glad to have me back. Excited for your next Southern treat, because no matter how many times I tell them I also lived in that town, they only want it if you made it."

"Well you moved there for your junior year, so I can understand why," he jokes, but instead of wiping away the bad memories of the case, it leaves him more exhausted than before.

"Aaron, what happened today?" she asks him, so attuned to his moods and feelings that he often wonders why she doesn't become a profiler.

"It's nothing," he tells her. No matter how many times she begs for him to tell her why he wakes up in the middle of the night, to share why he can't touch her without showering for a longer amount of time than can be healthy, he won't.

"You don't need to say specifics. But please don't lie to me."

"I'm sorry. I- can we eat first?"

Her mouth parts with shock. Of course they can eat first. She would do whatever was needed if it meant he would finally, after so many years of being married, tell her the truth about his job. She understood his need to keep it a secret. But when he came home, looking more defeated than he had at sixteen, she worried.

He puts Jack to sleep before climbing into bed beside her. She puts her book down- she hadn't really been reading it, just holding it to give her something to do- and turns so she's laying on her side. Absent-mindedly, she starts drawing circles on his stomach. His hand trembles as he removes it, placing it on the bed sheet.

"I profiled the team today," he begins.

Haley sits up properly. "I thought you had a rule against that."

"We do. But Erin… pushed. And before I knew what was happening I was sharing information about all of them. Things that- I don't know if they know that I know. And Erin is too good to use it to blackmail any of us but she isn't a profiler. They'll realise she knows."

"What did you tell her?" is all she says. She knows her husband. Knows how he takes everything personally, and how he will hold himself to unreachable standards because he was never allowed to be anything but perfect, and anything less than that is failure.

He tells her, in almost perfect verbatim, the same words he told Erin. Towards the end, his voice starts to get choked up. She knows he stutters when he feels under pressure or anxious and she knows he hates it. So instead of speaking, she takes his left hand, clasps it with both of hers and rubs circles over the knuckles.

For a moment, he stops speaking, staring at their interlocked hands instead with a look of slight wonder. Like even after all this time, he still couldn't believe he got to touch her. That she wanted to touch him, in spite of his devils and darkness.

It gives him the strength to finish.

"And you?" she asks, after it becomes clear he won't offer any more information as to why it hurt him so much.

Her question is an echo of Erin's, and he closes his eyes, giving himself a few moments to get lost in his head, where it is not necessarily safe, but is where he can be alone and not pretend to be good. 

"And I?"

"What did you say about yourself?"

"I said that if she could find someone better, then I wished her luck," he says, voice completely flat and monotone.

Haley tries to not be offended that he is speaking to her like she is an officer of the law, or a suspect, instead of her husband. "Why didn't you say more?"

"More?"

She nods. "You're feeling guilty because you profiled the team, but you didn't. You shared the pieces of them that make them human. That make them good agents and even better people. You didn't say anything like that about yourself. Why not?"

"Because I'm not like them. My trauma- I'm just not like the rest of the team, okay?"

"I know enough about trauma to know it affects every person differently, so I won't dispute that one. But if you're saying that you're not like the rest of your family, not team, then what are you like? Because from where I'm sitting, you are."

"I'm not," he repeats, growing slightly agitated.

She needs him to understand he is. "Aren't you?"

"No." this time, there is venom in his words. But it doesn't frighten her. It never has. The only time his words have such hatred injected into them is when he's afraid of himself. She's never been afraid of him. She never will be. Because to her, he is good. He is trying.

"How?" she pushes one last time.

And the dam explodes.

“I’m not soft! I’m not beautiful or kind or good or any of the things those stupid, stupid motivational quotes say! I’m not- I’m not like the others and all I want to know is why. Everyone else is good. They’re light and sweet and good. We’ve all been- we all have trauma. Why can’t I- why am I different? Why did mine make me violent and scared and- why can’t I move on?”

It was not what she was expecting. It was not what she thought he was going to say, and now she doesn't know what she is meant to do. She doesn't know how to piece him back together. Not this time. Not when his words are a confession he has been clinging to since the day he met Spencer.

"Aaron," she begins, for lack of other words to say.

"Don't," he cuts her off. "Please. Just don't. I can- I'll sleep in the guest room. You shouldn't have to deal with me when I'm like this."

"You're having a bad day. It's what I signed up to deal with," she says.

He shakes his head. "Not like this. Not like- Haley, what kind of father avoids his son the way I do because they're afraid? What kind of man doesn't know the difference between safety and happiness? How broken am I if my twenty-five year old subordinate can move on better than I can?"

"You're scared. You're a victim of child abuse. It's not- it's normal that you feel like this. I think. Aaron, I don't know. I don't know what kind of person this all makes you. But when I look at you, I see the man I married, the one so terrified of everything, thriving. I see someone that suffered atrocities that nobody should ever be put through fighting with everything they are, to break that cycle. I don't know how to make you feel better, but I vowed to be honest with you. And this is me doing that."

"You're the first person to tell me it wasn't my fault," he whispers. "Everyone else always said that I must've done something to deserve it."

"You were a child Aaron. You all were."

It was the wrong thing to say. 

"We were all children, but they're all better. They haven't closed themselves off. They- I see them, with their unfailing faith in humanity and it hurts. It physically hurts. What am I doing to them? What happens when the evil they see outweighs the goodness?"

"It's okay, Aaron," she laughs, because if she doesn't, she will cry and she will not do that. Not in this moment. "It's- the trauma and the hurt and the heartbreak doesn't always give you faith. It doesn't always make you a better person. Yes, they are still positive and happy and beautiful and good, but so are you. It's just buried somewhere. Because sometimes the trauma just hurts."

He stares at her eyes, and she sees the tears that had been threatening to fall since he got into the bed start to spill over. With one cautious hand, she wipes it away. She counts it as a win when he leans into the touch without flinching.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispers.

"That's the beautiful thing about love. We are all entitled to it. It's just about whether or not we'll take it."

"I don't know how to stop being so broken," he adds.

"You're not- people are not broken. Not ever. They are damaged by life and the terrible things that other people do, but they're never broken. Not beyond repair. Do you hear me? You are not broken. You never were. You were just hurt. But there are so many people that love you. That want to help you. All you have to do is ask."

"I know. I just- I wish he didn't have such a tight hold on me. I wish I could be more like Penelope. Or Derek. They're so beautiful, with their faith in love and goodness. Derek didn't have anyone. Not in the way I had you."

She didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about. "He was your father. Even despite everything, he took time off work when you had chicken pox and played with you when you were old enough to remember the snow."

"I know. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Do you think I'll always be like this? Cold and unapproachable and full of darkness?"

"The only people you are ever cold and unapproachable with is unsubs. Suspects. And there's nothing wrong with darkness. There's no light without it." she can't say anything more than that. Not without lying.

"You always know what to say," he says to her, hesitantly pulling her closer towards him.

She smiles. "It's because I love you."

His own smile fades, and he doesn't reply, instead brushing her hair off her face. She tries to not let it sting. The words had never been something said freely in his house. Never used to actually express love, only as a plea for mercy. There are a few minutes of silence, and she think he's finally fallen asleep. 

Then he speaks.

"Haley, what if I can't save them? I've already failed once. What if this, part of me, means the next time they need me, I can't be there? I can't save them?"

She thinks her answer over for a few minutes.

"Sometimes the way to save other people is to save ourselves. You need to save yourself first. But listen to me." 

She can tell he's fighting sleep now, so she speaks quickly.

"There is nothing wrong with you. Yes, you are flawed and you make mistakes, but that is because you are human. We all make mistakes. We are never perfect. You are not the only one to screw up. But this part of you-" she places a hand over his heart "-this part of you is not broken. It is not wrong or anything that you were led to believe it was. You are exactly what and where you need to be. And I love you for that."

"Do you promise?"

She swallows. "Of course I do." 

She's not entirely sure whether she's lying, but he drifts off with a smile, so she decides she doesn't care. There are certain lies she is willing to tell, if only so her husband has one night of peace.

Thinking of him as her husband is painful, because she knows it is only a matter of time before one of them snaps. Before this balance he has fought so hard to achieve topples like Jack's building blocks. She knows which way it will topple. She isn't angry.

But the balance hasn't toppled yet. It won't for a few weeks. So maybe it is wrong, but instead of pulling away, she lets herself hold her husband, the steady beating of his heart sending her to sleep.

She is right though. Even when she's no longer there, he knows she is right. That sometimes the pain is not poetic or character-building. Sometimes, it is just pain, and the only way forward is directly through it. It is not easy, but it is possible.

Everything is possible, so long as he lets himself feel without guilt.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #hotch x haley #haley hotchner #erin strauss #tw trauma #tw trauma response #tw child abuse #tw religon #tw religious trauma #sad aaron hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #sumayyah writes cm

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Boys are raised to be men. Part 1 - Two broken people

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Things are different outside the city. When Bucky moves out of the city to live closer to his father’s best friend, Steve, he meets a peculiar girl from a strange family. She’s loved by everyone in the village and like him, she’s missing a limb. And, to Bucky’s surprise, she’s determined to make him part of her life.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2377

Author’s note: I am not disabled and I couldn’t ever imagine what it’s like. If you have anything to not about that aspect of the story, please send me a message so I can fix possible mistakes or misunderstandings in upcoming chapters. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates.

‘Good morning mister and misses Rogers.’ You smile and wave at your next-door neighbors who are enjoying the warm spring sun on their porch. In your hand is a plate of cookies. You have always liked baking and often bring a plate to your neighbors on Sunday so they have something to enjoy with their tea after attending church. You would join them at church but you are simply not religious and you can’t stand the pastor in this town. He’s a dick and after his son spent the night in your bed once, you can’t look him in the eye.

‘Morning Y/n,’ Steve replies with a smile. His wife, Peggy, gets up from her seat and shuffles inside to get another cup. She does this every Sunday. Well, she’s been doing this every Sunday ever since a few months. It seems her memory is declining quite rapidly but Steve doesn’t mind reminding her to do mundane tasks. He’s as happy as can be. From what he’s told you, their love story hasn’t been sunshine and butterflies at all. He was nearly killed in the war and just barely survived. When he came back, Peggy was engaged to another but they still found each other in the end. It’s beautiful. You could only hope to marry a man as kind as Steve, who will look at you like he still has a crush on you. Because damn, Steve looks at Peggy like he’s a schoolboy with a crush, like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, like she’s the only woman in the world. It’s wonderful. You’ve seen that look on Tony’s face when he looked at your mother and you’ve been seeing it more and more from him when Pepper comes around. ‘How have you been Y/n,’ Steve asks, patting the chair next to him to gesture you to sit down on the straw chair. You put the plate on the table and take a seat. The chair barely budges under you even though the thing looks ancient. Good craftsmanship. ‘I’m doing well,’ you say with a smile, ‘I might not be a Christina but I do think the Lord has put an angel on my shoulder.’ ‘Well, you know we pray for you and Peter,’ Steve tells you with a gentle smile, ‘you deserve happiness after everything.’ Peggy steps back outside and shuffles her way over to you two. And of course, in true Peggy fashion, she’s heard everything. ‘I agree,’ she says as she puts the third teacup down on the table with shaky hands, ‘you two are wonderful children.’ Steve smiles at his wife and holds her hand to help her sit down comfortably, only turning back to you when he’s made sure she’s properly seated. ‘Say, how’s that man of yours? Ehm, Samuel, was it not?’ Steve nudges you like you’re two teenagers gossiping. You chuckle and shake your head. ‘Sam and I are still friends,’ you tell him, ‘nothing is ever going to happen between the two of us.’ ‘Maybe you should try living in the city if you’re not interested in the men here,’ Peggy suggests as she does every Sunday but you are perfectly content here. You’ve always liked the little life you’re living. You don’t need and don’t like the big fancy cars, busy streets, and small apartments. ‘I’d rather stay here,’ you shrug, ‘and there are enough people to choose from here.’ ‘Let’s go down the list of potential suitors for a second,’ Steve suggests but he’s not really interested in your opinion. He just wants to know who is with who and what the drama is. He just wants to know about the “youngsters.” Youngsters being people in their mid to late twenties. ‘First up, Thor Odison.’ ‘Lovely guy but he’s in love with Jane. You know, the farmer’s daughter.’ ‘Oh, those two are never going to work out,’ Peggy chimes in, ‘she’s way too much of an individual for him.’ ‘Agreed,’ Steve nods, ‘Loki Laufeyson?’ ‘No way,’ you laugh, ‘that man is a trickster. He’s a great friend but I could never date him.’ Peggy shrugs at Steve’s confused look. ‘Okay, that’s fair,’ Steve agrees with a sigh, ‘Natasha Romanoff?’ ‘She’s dating Bruce Banner. Besides, you do remember she’s my ex, right?’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Steve says with a sultry look and pats you on the shoulder for a second. ‘Don’t you work at her flower shop?’ Peggy looks quite confused as she asks you about it. ‘Yes, we’re still friends. We just came to the conclusion that we weren’t going anywhere. She’s great but just not for me,’ you explain. ‘How about the Maximoff twins? They seem like something you’d be interested in,’ Peggy asks. ‘They’re fine but Wanda is already dating Vision and Pietro, well, he’s cute but not quite my type,’ you explain but there’s a blush pulling up on your cheeks. Steve picks up on it right away. ‘Is that so? Didn’t I see Pietro sneak out of your house a few weeks ago?’ He grins, sipping on his tea. Gosh, for being elderly the two are awfully gossipy. ‘We’re not talking about those kinds of endeavors on the day of the Lord,’ you say to try and laugh it off while simultaneously admitting to Steve’s indication. Steve seems satisfied with this answer but Peggy seems lost in thoughts. ‘What about Bucky?’

‘Dad! Did you know we have a new neighbor,’ you yell into the house from the hallway while kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket most hastily. You walk into the living room to see Tony sitting on the couch with a rugged-looking man. The man only has one arm, which has her surprised for a second but she isn’t one to stare as she is also missing part of a limb. Besides, there’s enough else to stare at. This man is a gift. His hair is a tad bit long and he has a bit of scruffy facial hair. And his lips. There’s something about his lips. The corners look upturned at any given moment. It makes him look friendly and approachable. You are certain he either is or used to be quite the ladies’ man. For a short second, you get lost in his icy blue eyes. Wow. Just wow. This man is beautiful. ‘I do know,’ Tony says a bit annoyed at your loud entrance, ‘Y/n, this is James Barnes. James, this is my daughter, Y/n Parker.’ James looks a bit confused at the introduction as his eyes flicker from you to Tony until you shake hands. He doesn’t ask about the difference between the names though. ‘So you’re Bucky?’ He nods at your question. ‘Would you prefer I call you Bucky or James?’ ‘Bucky. Thanks for asking.’ A faint smile appears on his face. ‘He’s already met Peter,’ Tony tells you to explain the confusion on his face earlier. ‘Ah,’ you chuckle, ‘I understand. We aren’t the most usual bunch.’ ‘James- I’m sorry, Bucky here is from the city.’ Tony completely brushes away the whole conversation and hops right into a new topic as you take a seat next to Bucky. ‘Why’d you decide to move somewhere so boring?’ Bucky seems hesitant in answering but something tells you it has a lot to do with his missing limb. You can tell by the way he’s slowly retreating into his jacket. ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ you assure him, ‘I don’t mind.’ ‘Thank you,’ he smiles gratefully and sits up a little straighter again like bricks have been lifted off his shoulders. You can’t help but wonder if your dad was interrogating him up until now. The poor man must’ve been stressed out of his mind. ‘So what do you do, Bucky?’ Tony asks it while he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the kitchen to get the grocery list you put on the fridge whenever you need something. After all, you made a deal yesterday. You cook, he gets groceries. ‘Not much these days,’ Bucky admits, ‘I used to be in the army.’ Ah, that answers a lot of questions. ‘Sow hat do you do to pass the time,’ you ask as you hear the front door close. Of course Tony wouldn’t tell you he was leaving. He’s just glad you took the unexpected guest off his hands. ‘I paint,’ he tells you, looking slightly more at ease now that Tony left, ‘I’m not great but it’s a nice way to pass the time and get some emotions out.’ ‘You’ll have to show me sometime,’ you say with a wink. It catches Bucky off guard. Did you just flirt with him? ‘Would you like some more tea?’ ‘Oh, no, I’m good,’ Bucky says and quickly gets up, ‘I only came by to introduce myself.’ You nod and get up to show him out. You notice he’s still wearing his shoes even though you never wear shoes inside the house. Tony probably felt bad about asking him to take them off so he didn’t. You watch him step outside but you just can’t let him walk away. He’s just too… Wow, he’s too beautiful for you to let him walk away. ‘If you don’t have anything to do tonight. Most of us hang out at the pub downtown every Sunday around seven pm.’ Bucky isn’t sure what to say and you feel obligated to keep talking. ‘It’s just a bunch of stupid people getting drunk but it’s fun’ And now you’re oversharing but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. He shows a friendly smile but doesn’t look too sure of what to say. ‘You don’t have to but if you want to, I’ll leave here at seven,’ you tell him, ‘so I guess I’ll see you around?’ He smiles and nods to you. You close the door as he walks down to the house next door. Old man Steve’s house. ‘Ah, Bucky, how do you like the Parkers?’ Steve calls out to him before he can make it down their driveway. Bucky and Steve go back a long way. Bucky’s father was good friends with Steve and the man had always been like a backup dad to him. So when his father passed and he got overwhelmed in the city, the next best option was to go look for Steve. ‘They’re a strange bunch,’ Bucky admits, ‘but the girl, Y/n, she’s really sweet. She invited me to the pub.’ ‘You better go punk,’ Steve says in a tone that’s close to warning, ‘you won’t get a better offer to meet the youngsters in town.’ ‘Youngsters? From what you told me, they’re all nearing their thirties.’ ‘You know what I mean,’ Steve argues and waves it off. Bucky takes a seat with Steve on the porch, the chair creaking under his mass. ‘So what’s up with that family? I mean, I know of Stark industries but I never expected to find Tony Stark in a small town like this.’ ‘It’s not my place to tell you.’ Steve looks pained as he says it and it surprises Bucky. Sure, three people living in a house that don’t all share the same last name, there’s a story there. But Steve’s reaction makes him think it’s more than that. ‘Those three have been through a lot. They aren’t related by blood but they’re more of a family than most others down here.’ Bucky gazes over his shoulder at the house next door and watches as the door to the Parker residence opens and the two siblings come running out. The two are like spitfire as Y/n chases Peter for something that doesn’t seem to matter much to them judging by the smiles on their face. ‘I can see that.’ Then, suddenly, they hear Y/n yelp and she falls in the grass in front of their house. She lets a string of muffled curses fall from her mouth as her brother runs up to her. The two seem to be concerned about her leg. Steve tries to call Bucky back but he’s already running up to them. Peter sees him coming and tells him they’re fine but Bucky doesn’t want to go back to Steve. Instead, he kneels down next to Y/n. ‘Hey, are you okay?’ She doesn’t look at him. His eyes fall to the strange picture in front of him. It looks like her leg has been snapped in half at the knee but last time Bucky checked, ankles aren’t made from metal. ‘Yeah, fine,’ she grumbles as she pulls her flared jeans up to her mid-thigh to reveal the prosthetic that came off, ‘it just got stuck and I tripped.’ She grabs the metal leg and pushes it back into place like it’s nothing. Something stirs inside Bucky. “She’s like me,” he thinks, “she’s broken too.” But he doesn’t speak. He understands now why Steve tried to call him back and why Peter tried to tell him it was fine. He wouldn’t want help either. Because when you’re broken, people feel the need to treat you like a child, like you can’t do anything on your own, like you’re not a grown adult with a brain. You lost a limb, not your brain. ‘I’m sorry, I was worried you hurt yourself,’ he says softly and offers his hand to help her up but she politely declines and gets up herself. ‘It’s fine,’ she huffs and pushes her smile back on her face, ‘did you make up your mind about tonight?’ He smiles back at her. ‘Yeah, I’d love to join you. Steve wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I declined.’ ‘You know him well, right?’ ‘Yeah, he used to be friends with my dad.’ ‘Explains the pictures on the fireplace,’ she teases, ‘and all the stories.’ ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Bucky groans, letting his arm drop to his side, ‘please tell me these friends of yours aren’t close to Steve.’ ‘Just Sam but I think you’ll like him,’ she tells him, ‘he’s the same kind of chaotic as you.’ She pats his shoulder and walks back to her house, Peter following her closely behind. ‘Great, just great,’ Bucky sighs.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fnafic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x fem reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes fanfiction #james barnes x y/n #james barnes fanfic #james barnes x female reader #winter soldier fic #winter solider x reader #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x y/n #marvel

[templepurohit]

Somvar Vrat or Monday fast is practiced to propitiate Lord Shiva. Bhagvan Shiva is also recognized with names like Mahadev, Shankar, Umapati, Rudra, BholeNath, Bhole Bhandari, and so on. Mahadev is the supreme Lord for Hindus. Millions of Hindus admire this Lord from the depth of their hearts with extreme devotion. Every Monday a massive crowd of devotees is noticed in shrine or temples of Mahadev, because Monday is very dear to Mahadev. The Panchakshara Mantra “Om Namah Shivaya” is repeated on this day in the name of Lord Shiva. People who are facing obstacles in their married life or facing delays in marriage can observe the Monday fast. Fasting on Mondays is also beneficial for accomplishing the wish of getting a desired partner. There are three types of Somvar Vrat and the Vrat Katha associated with them are : Somvar Vrat Once there lived a wealthy merchant in a city. He always had immense wealth and prosperity. However, despite all the worldly possessions, he remained sad because he had no son. He regularly observed Monday fast to have a son. He went to the Shiva temple and worshipped Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati there with full faith. Goddess Parvati was extremely pleased with his devotion and implored Lord Shiva saying, “My Lord, this wealthy merchant is your faithful devotee. He regularly observes Monday fast but still he has no son. Please fulfil his desire.” Hearing the implorings of Parvati, Lord Shiva said, “Let your desire be fulfilled. I grant him a boon. He will be the father of a son, but he will live for twelve years only”. Fortunately, this wealthy merchant could hear their conversation. As time passed on, the merchants wife gave birth to a beautiful son. He celebrated his sons birth with great pomp and show and distributed food, clothes and money among the poor. All prayed for his sons long and happy life. But the merchant was still sad because he knew that his son would not live beyond twelve years and that Yama, the god of Death, spares none. Knowing what the situation was, the merchant started observing the Monday fast with greater zest but there was no let up in the worship of Lord Shiva. At the age of eleven, the merchants son looked quite smart and mature. All desired that he should be married to a beautiful girl. The merchant’s wife also wanted her sons marriage. She insisted for it again and again but the merchant did not agree to this proposal. He sent for his brother-In-law and said, “Accompany my son to Kashi. Arrange for his best spiritual knowledge. Take enough money from my treasure. Arrange devotional gatherings on your way to Kashi at every halt and distribute alms among the Somvar Vrat Kathabeggars.” The merchant’s son started his journey for Kashi with his maternal uncle. They arranged devotional gatherings and distributed clothes at every halting camp. They also arranged best eats for the Brahmans and made enough offerings to them. One day they made a halt at a capital of a king. The marriage of the King’s daughter was to take place that day. The marriage party had already reached the city. The bridegroom’s party was terribly disturbed because the bridegroom was blind, of one eye. They were in search of a beautiful boy to replace him. The bridegroom’s father sent his men in search of a beautiful boy. The men spotted the merchant’s son who was camping in an inn with his maternal uncle. The bridegroom’s father was a rich person. He said to the boy’s maternal uncle, “My prestige is at stake. I need a handsome bridegroom in place of my one-eyed son. I shall give enough wealth if your ward agrees to have a temporary marriage with the kings daughter. He shall be free immediately after the marriage ceremony is over.” The merchant’s brother-in-law convinced the boy for a temporary marriage. The bride’s party praised their luck when they saw a handsome bridegroom with the marching band at the head of the marriage procession. The merchant’s son and the kings daughter were, thus, married around the holy fire. At the time of departure, the merchant’s son picked his brides scarf and wrote, “Now we are husband and wife. I am not the son of a king. I am the son of a rich merchant. I was on way to Kashi for spiritual studies. Your real bridegroom is blind on one eye.” The bride noticed her bridegroom writing something on the scarf. She could not read his message at that time. When the marriage party was about to depart, the bride read the message. She was shocked to know the reality. She refused to accompany with the one-eyed bridegroom. The marriage party returned without a bride. The boy reached Kashiji and devoted himself fully to spiritual studies. His maternal uncle arranged devotional gatherings in the name of Lord Shiva and gave donations everyday for the well-being of his sister’s son. On the last day of the twelfth year, the merchant’s son felt pain in the chest. His maternal uncle was performing the religious rites as per his routine. As he went inside the room, he found the boy dead. He was full of grief, but kept silent as the Brahmans would not accept food from such a house. With courage, he completed his routine. When his routine was over, he started crying. Many people gathered around him and shared his grief. Fortunately, Lord Shiva and Parvati were also passing by that house. When Parvati heard the cries, her motherly compassion got aroused. She was a mother, after all. Having known the facts, she said to Lord Shiva, “My dear Sire, please ask Yama to return his life. Yama is always at your command. Please do this favour to me. You are the protector of all creatures.” Lord Shiva agreed to this because of the family’s devotion towards him and sprinkled water from the holy river Ganga on the dead body. The boy got up as if he was making an excuse for sleep. The spiritual education of the merchant’s son was over. They started their journey homeward. They arranged spiritual discourses and distributed aims among the needy throughout their way. Now, they were back in the city where this boy was married. The king recognized the boy immediately. He took him to his palace with full honor and on an auspicious day, he arranged to happy departure for his daughter. He also gave adequate dowry. The merchant’s son reached his city along with his bride. His father could not believe it. He was sitting on the roof of a big mansion with his wife, waiting for his son. They had decided that they would not come down until their son supported them himself; otherwise they would commit suicide. Therefore, finding him alive, his parents were glad and thanked Mahadev. Som Pradosh Vrat ‘Pradosh’ means ‘the dusk of the early night’ or ‘evening tide’. This fast is observed in the evening twilight, and so it is called Pradosh Vrat. It is observed on the 13th day of each lunar fortnight. It is practiced to propitiate Lord Shiva, in order to obtain his blessings and boons leading to fulfillment of one’s cherished desired and spiritual upliftment.Those who practice it with unflinching faith and devotion are bound to possess wealth, health, happiness. Solah Somvar Vrat – 16 weeks Monday fast Once Lord Shiva visited the famous city of Amravati. Parvati also accompanied him. On their way, they saw a beautiful Shiva temple and decided to spend some time there. One day, Parvati found Lord Shiva in a playful mood. She said to him, Oh my Lord, let us have a dice game. Lord Shiva obliged her and the game started. Meanwhile, the priest of the temple had come there. Parvati turned towards him and said Please foretell who will win this game? The Brahman gave no serious thought to her question and abruptly said, Lord Shiva will win the game. Incidentally Parvati won the game. She was angry because the Brahman had told a lie. Lord Shiva tried to pacify her, but she cursed the Brahman that he be a leper. In due course, the Brahman became a leper and spent a miserable life. After some time a few fairies descended on the earth and pitied the fate of the priest. On asking him, the priest narrated the whole episode. One of the fairies said, “You observe Monday fasts for sixteen weeks without break. On the seventeenth Monday, prepare some holy food or Prasad with flour mixed with ghee and gur. Distribute this prasaad among the members of your family and take some yourself. You will be free from this leprosy.” The fairies disappeared and the priest followed the instructions. Soon, he regained his normal health. Once Lord Shiva and Parvati again visited that temple. Parvati was surprised to see the priest. He was his normal self. She enquired about this feat and the priest narrated the whole story. Parvati was happy, she also decided to observe Monday fasts for sixteen weeks. Incidentally, on the seventeenth Monday, when she broke her fast, her beloved son Lord Kartikeya, who was displeased with her, appeared and said, “Oh dear mother what is that power with which you have called me? What is the mystery?” Parvati said, “Oh my dear son, all this miracle is due to observing Monday fasts for sixteen weeks without interruption.” Kartikeya’s Brahman friend had been in a foreign land for quite some time. Kartikeya said, “I shall observe Monday fasts for sixteen weeks for happy reunion with my friend.” He, then, observed the 16 weeks fasts as per rules and to his great surprise, his friend returned hale and hearty.Solah Somvar Vrat Katha The friend enquired about the miracle and Lord Kartikeya told him the modalities to be observed for Monday fast. The Brahman friend was very curious about his marriage. He decided to observe the Monday fasts for sixteen weeks. On the seventeenth Monday, the Brahman friend went to a city. The ruler of the city decided to marry his daughter to a person on whose neck his well-decorated elephant would put the garland. The Brahman joined the show. Incidentally, the elephant garlanded him. The ruler of the city gave him his daughter and also a lot of money. The couple departed the next day and were back in their home. On the honeymoon night, the bride said, “Oh my dear, how is it that the elephant ignored all the princes and garlanded you? How did you succeed on the auspicious moments?” The bridegroom said, “I observed fasts on sixteen Mondays. Monday is Lord Shiva’s day. It is due to his blessings that I got a beautiful wife like you. My friend Kartikeya revealed this secret to me.” The bride too decided to observe fasts on sixteen Mondays for a beautiful son full of knowledge. Her devotion bore fruit and she gave birth to a beautiful son. As the son grew up, he said to his mother, “Oh my dear mother, what is the mystery behind my birth? Please reveal it to me.” The mother told him how she observed Monday fasts. The son also decided to observe the fasts to gain a kingdom for his parents. Incidentally, an old kings messengers from a nearby State came there in search of a beautiful and learned bridegroom for the princess. They proposed the princess hand for him and he readily agreed. The king expired after sometime and the boy became the king. The newly-made king continued his fasts for the next sixteen Mondays. On the seventeenth Monday, he arranged a large prayer party at a temple. All the arrangements were made well in advance. The king requested the queen to accompany him to the temple for breaking the fast after taking pras ad from the priest. The queen refused to go with him. The king had to go alone. The king heard an oracle who echoed, “Oh king, turn out the queen from the palace or destruction will fall upon you.” The king returned to his palace. He summoned a conference of his ministers and told about the oracle. All of them were taken aback, as it was due to that princess that he became the king of the state. They agreed to his proposal only with a heavy heart. The queen was ultimately turned out. The queen left the palace bare footed and in worn-out clothes. She was thirsty and fatigued. She met an old lady who had a load of spinned spindles on her head. She was going to the city. She felt pity on her and asked to help her in selling the yarn because she did not know the art of selling. The queen took that load on her head. Incidentally, strong wind blew away the spindles which disappeared in the dusty wind. The queen felt sorry and the old lady asked her to go away. The queen went to an oilman’s house and sought shelter. The oilman obliged her, but as she stepped in, all of his oil pots developed cracks and the oil began to flow on the ground. The oilman immediately turned her out. The queen was now disheartened. She went to the bank of a river to quench her thirst. As she touched the water, the water dried up. She then went to a deep jungle and saw a tank of water. As she went down the stairs and touched the crystal dear water, it became muddy. She cursed her fate and put a few drops of the muddy water in her mouth. She was now tired and wanted to take rest under a shady tree. As she went near the tree its leaves began to fall and soon it became leafless. The cowherds saw this incident and told the whole story to the priest of a nearby temple. The priest called for the woman. He was surprised to see that the woman had royal features. He consoled her and provided her with all the facilities. But after some days, he also got fed up with her because whatever the woman touched became impure, may it be milk, food or water. One day, the priest said, “Oh lady, what curse has fallen upon you? You reveal the mystery.” The woman told him how she rejected a proposal to attend Monday fast prayer. The priest understood the whole thing. He knew it was Shiva’s curse. He said, “Oh dear lady, you observe fasts on sixteen Mondays and Lord Shiva will absolve you of your sins.” The woman realised her mistake and observed the Monday fasts for sixteen Mondays. On the seventeenth Monday, the king said to himself, “My queen left my palace long ago. Her condition must be very miserable.” He called for his courtiers and ordered them to search out the queen. The courtiers reached the temple where the queen was residing. The priest refused to hand over the queen to them and said, “Let the king himself come to receive her.” The courtiers went to the king and related the whole story. The king was happy to hear the news. He went to the temple and requested the priest to return his queen to him. The king admitted that he deserted the queen to avoid Lord Shiva’s wrath. The priest trusted the kings words and the queen returned to the palace. She was given a royal welcome. The king distributed money among the needy and arranged food for the hungry. The king and queen now regularly observed fasts on sixteen Mondays each year and lived a very happy life. After their death they found abode in Lord Shivas city, Shivapuri. Since, then it is believed that a person who observes fasts on sixteen Mondays, gets all pleasures and enters Shivapuri after his death. Most devotees also observe fast during four or five Mondays of Shravan month. It is believed that worshiping Lord Shiva during Shravan month is very auspicious and observing Monday fast and reciting SolahSomvarVrat Katha during Shravan month can make Lord Shiva happy for sure. This is because Shravan month is deeply dear to Mahadev as it is believed that Goddess Parvati deeply wanted to marry to Lord Shiva, and thus she did solah somvar vrat with immense devotion to get Mahadev. Solah Somvar Vrat Timing It is believed that Monday fasting would be very fruitful if started from the first Monday of Shukla Paksh of Shravan month (June-July). Four or five Monday fasting can be done in a go. And as per willingness the person can continue this fast till 16 weeks of Monday starting from Shukla Paksh (waxing period of moon) of Shravan month. However, simple Monday fast can also be started from first Monday of Shukla Paksha of Hindi Months – Chaitra, Baisakh, Kartik and Margsheersh. https://ift.tt/3b1L686

#Hinduism #Hindugods #india #vedas #mantras #spirituality

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind  switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 22 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing