#they’ve been watching since october. this is a momentous occasion

[william26guzman]

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[gilligould]

my parents are finishing brba tonight 👀

#they’ve been watching since october. this is a momentous occasion #brba #k.txt

[fluffleforce-mysdrym]

Steadfast - October Writing Prompt

Thank you to @toastvogel for suggesting Chyrus. He is the best paragon <3 

..................

The Archon sits on no throne, but even without one, many kyrian often see her as a more distant figure. It is understandable. Even if she wasn’t a god, she is the leader of the realm. By her will is Bastion maintained, and by her hand are the ascended directed. There is more work that goes into doing even those two dealings than most will ever know, and she does so much more than that. It is a wonder she ever has time to address any of her subjects.

In that way, Chyrus can’t help but wonder—hope, really—whether she is at least somewhat protected from some of what is happening right now. She is not at the temples, watching their brethren fall before each other’s blades. She can feel the realm wither around her, in spite of her will, but she cannot see how that crushes the spirits of those relying on her unwavering resolve. She is spared their doubts.

Until those doubts become too powerful.

And then she is blindsided with the betrayal.

Because most anyone else could have seen something like this coming. Perhaps not on such a grand scale, but there were signs, clear as the skies over Bastion.

Chyrus frowns as the sound of a broken chime reaches his ears. With a quick inspection, he finds the culprit underfoot, half crushed under his large toes. Kneeling, he picks them up gingerly, the lute-like chimes tiny in his palm, and the ring they used to hang on broken.

It’s hard to imagine what could have damaged it so. Someone getting thrown into it and their weapon catching it just right? Or had one of their many attackers been so overcome with rage that the sound of the gentle instrument filled them with such animosity that they wanted to make sure they would never play again?

There has been so much heartache in Bastion throughout the eons.

Bastion’s pride is its noble cause, but perhaps it is because he does not cling to such emotion that Chyrus has always been able to see the melancholic undercurrent. The broken hearts sent back to Oribos to be judged anew because they could not relinquish the memories of their mortal lives has always been there. Friends and students alike have ‘fallen short’ over the years. He wonders where they’ve gone, sometimes—those he remembers.

And there are those who have done as was required of them, who sometimes quietly peruse their old memories, watching the foreign stories play out with a quiet resignation that their sacrifice was for the greater good. Still, sacrifices are nothing if they are not mourned from time to time.

As Chyrus peers around to see if there are any other pieces of the little chimes to be gathered—to be given to someone with smaller hands who needs so desperately something to focus on other than the present—the sound of large wings grow closer.

He catches the last bit of pipe beneath his foot as Thenios lands, unintentionally scattering the debris left in the forsworn’s latest attack with his great wings.

Chyrus offers him a word of greeting before picking up the chime. It wouldn’t do to forget it, and even though there was no proof of it, Chyrus has often felt like little objects could have a feel to them. They could know when they are broken and appreciate when they are repaired.

It’s a notion Visephone smiles to think of, and one that Xandria will mull over before irritably asking questions that have no answers. Simple things that cannot be done in front of their charges, but are held precious in those fleeting moments when the paragons are alone together.

This is not going to be such a moment, Chyrus can tell, if only by the thin line of Thenios’ lips.

That doesn’t stop Chyrus from giving him a simple smile himself. “What brings you all the way out here?”

Thenios stands tall and firm, armor shining in Bastion’s radiance.

That in itself makes Chyrus’ heart hurt. Thenios does not don his armor for any occasion.

Or he didn’t. Not before the forsworn, before Devos’ betrayal. Though he would never voice it, Chyrus often suspects that Devos fall from grace affected Thenios the most severely of them all, hitting him harder than even the Archon.

How often had the two visited each other’s temples in casual attire to sprawl out together and read. Thenios usually brought the scrolls and books, and Devos was always pleased to see whatever it was that he had for her. She’d once told him he could make even the driest, most technical of reports sound fascinating.

Chyrus can still remember finding them curled up together, feathers fluffed up as they read through something that wasn’t work related, and how Xandria had hounded them about how adorable they were for weeks after, insisting to Visephone that she had missed something absolutely precious.

When it was just them, of course. When they have those fleeting moments where they can simply be people instead of unyielding leaders.

Thenios hasn’t taken his armor off since Devos’ death.

The paragon motions for Chyrus to follow him, and they both take flight, soaring out into the fields where they will not be overheard.

Their feet have barely touched into the soft grasses when Thenios begins to speak, unable to contain himself any longer. His voice is a mix of its usual matter-of-fact tone used to inspire confidence among his aspirants and something else, something almost accusatory. “The Maw Walker has recovered some records for me. Salvaging what the forsworn are so hasty to destroy in their hunt for whatever they think matters more.”

“We are fortunate to have such help—”

“They brought me this.”

There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the record in Thenios’ palm, but Chyrus knows what it will be before it plays. Funny that he was just remembering this aspirant as he surveyed the damage to his temple. She had been close to ascension when she fell. She came to him, telling him that the path had taken everything from her, made her into someone she didn’t recognize.

She had been the latest in a long line of those who were not meant for the path after all.

Chyrus listens to his own disembodied voice recount the incident and remembers musing about whether there was another way for those within Bastion, a way that didn’t require a complete abandonment of the past.

The reasons for the path’s current route were valid, of course. No good came from ferrymen who judged the souls they collected.

It was a hard path, but it was one that had served them well for almost all of eternity. And if it weren’t for the lack of judgment in Oribos…

Chyrus makes no offer to take the record from Thenios, more than a little sure that if he did try, it would be denied him. Instead, he waits for Thenios to make whatever point he is there for. A chiding perhaps that such a thing was left where aspirants could find it?

“Did she ever talk to you?”

The question is a surprise, a reminder that Chyrus cannot predict everything his fellow paragon will think or do, and it hangs between them.

“No,” Chyrus finally replies. The word feels cruel somehow in its succinctness. “The first—and only—time I heard of Devos’ dissatisfaction with the path was when she told us of Uther’s injury.”

Thenios flinches at her name. No armor can protect him from his memories, and Chyrus has been worried about what will happen to him. Forgetting their fallen brethren will be nigh impossible. Their paths were far too entwined and to take her away would leave him with so much emptiness…

Chyrus has already lost so many, his heart breaks at the mere of thought of who else may fall, of who might be left a shell of their former selves because of hearbreak they can’t overcome.

“She told me.” Thenios voice cracks at the last word. He is quiet a moment before clearing his throat, his composure regained. “I told her to be careful the sort of thing she said.” His chin inclines, gaze skyward. “I did not think…I did not know that you had wondered about this very thing.”

“Haven’t we all?” Chyrus offers gently. None of them are above doubts, after all. He reaches out and lightly places a hand on Thenios’ arm, a connection his friend so clearly needs. The action startles Thenios out of his thoughts.

“If I’d listened…if I had let her talk…hadn’t let her feel so—” Thenios curls his fingers around the record, practically crushing it in his hand as he lowers it to his side, fist shaking. “How could she have… the Jailer.”

His voice cracks again, and this time he stops talking, a tremor in his jaw as he clenches it.

With a quick step, Chyrus reaches out and wraps Thenios in a hug, ignoring the way the bits of armor poke into his bare arms. There is hesitation, and then Thenios grips Chyrus back, clinging to him like a drowning man in a stormy sea.

There is not enough time. There may never be, but here, now, Chyrus is acutely aware of how damaged his friend is and how there are people who need both of them to be unbreakable pillars.

It is cruel that he can offer Thenios so little of his time. Chyrus makes himself a silent vow that he will be there for his friend, to properly mourn what they have lost when things are finally set right.

When Thenios pulls away, a shiver runs through his feathers and for a moment, Chyrus thinks he may take his helm off.

Instead, he takes Chyrus’ hand, surprised to find the tiny bits of broken chimes already there as he places the record among them. “I would hate the forsworn to get this and think you would be a good target to convert.”

Chyrus chooses not to point out that they have already tried. “Thank you, my friend.”

Thenios turns away and then pauses, looking back at him. “If you need someone to listen to your doubts…”

Chyrus wants to tell him that Devos’ fall is not his fault, but there is no way for words to reach, much less ease, the guilt there.  Instead, he gives Thenios a nod and a gentle smile. “Of course.”

Thenios attempts something like a goodbye, but when he can’t trust his voice to hold steady, he instead dismisses himself without ceremony. Chyrus does not insult him by watching his retreat, instead turning his attention back to his temple.

There is much to be done.

#world of warcraft #chyrus #my boi #thenios #devos #thenios x devos #kyrian #Chyrus and Thenios are bros #the best bros

[hollenka99]

A Mislabeled Hourglass

Summary: Fundy grows up faster than Wilbur was expecting but he is going to make the most of his son’s shorter childhood regardless.

Warnings: Mentions of hunting animals, implied character death

Wilbur is no stranger to growing up faster than most. In the midst of learning survival skills as a child, he was still able to play to his heart's content. His mum, and later Phil, never cared too much if he got dirty. Kids will be kids. Despite that, his first experience with grief is at 6, he causes an animal's death sooner than most would and he dies himself for the first time at the age of only 9 (stupid accident, he should have watched his step). He is perhaps 8 when Phil gives him his first taste of independence. At 11, Tommy enters their life and makes him a big brother. Phil's day trips gradually get more frequent, sometimes stretching out for longer durations too. Whenever it's just him and Tommy, he has to be responsible, has to play a more adult role despite being in his early teens when it becomes a noticeable habit. Then Technoblade shows up. You could argue that from around 17 or 18, Wilbur is practically becomes a young carer on a full time basis. However, this accelerated maturation was all mental. The earth had gone around the sun once when he spoke his first word, five times when he began deciphering sequences of letters as words, ten times when Phil told him what to expect over the next several years and it had completed its 19th revolution shortly before Fundy came into the world. Fundy was... different. First of all, he was a shapeshifter so right off the bat, he was never going to look fully human. Sally had fins and naturally red hair. Fundy was born with a substantial amount of ginger hair and ears that seemed slightly more pointed than they should be. When his son gets older, it will become apparent that his senses are stronger than Wilbur's too. Speaking of Fundy getting older... Wilbur has a hunch that something isn't quite right when his baby rapidly outgrows clothes meant for his age group. He initially dismisses it as Fundy likely inheriting his ridiculously tall genes. Because what else could it be, right? Then he is crawling at 2 months old. Wilbur's far from a baby expert but he's sure infants don't become that mobile that soon. A month or so later, Fundy takes his first clumsy steps towards him. Now that? Yeah, that undoubtedly raises alarm bells. He knows for a fact that that milestone was for those around 12 months old. Okay yep, something was definitely up. The books say Fundy should have been introduced to solid foods by now. He guesses that puts him in the Bad Dad category, along with temporarily using cows to feed him when he first got Fundy. He'd defend himself by pointing out he didn't have formula on hand the moment he became a father and was yet to learn non-human milk wasn't actually good for the baby but those excuses don't seem credible. He knows he's been going about this blinder than he would liked since day 1 but the accelerated aging might end up screwing him over even more. Ha, imagine having time to settle into parenting a baby before they graduate into toddlerhood. It's fine, he swears it's fine. It just means he gets to start having comprehensible, reciprocated conversations sooner than most, not to mention going through less nappies. There are stumbles for the first week or two after Fundy learns to walk but his son soon gets the hang of it. Only days after his first steps comes his first word. Noisy pattering paired with cries of "Daddy!" get more common. He could certainly get used to this. A one year old's way of running is potentially one of the silliest things he's ever witnessed. But look at his little champion go! When Fundy learns to crouch, Wilbur is crouching right beside him. Tommy comments that he looks and sounds like an idiot whenever he plays with Fundy. Wilbur pays him no heed because his brother is an absolute hypocrite. He has to say, Tommy is doing a great job for someone who was thrown in at the deep end just as much as he was and his brother doesn't even have the responsibility of having to care for a kid. He's always been a bit... rough and ready when it comes to playing with others. But with Fundy, he makes sure to be gentle around the toddler. Wilbur isn't entirely sure whether hanging upside down from someone's grip on a near daily basis is healthy for a little kid but Fundy's eruption of giggles each time suggest otherwise. When Tommy turned 11, he was not yet an uncle. The following April, he has a two year old nephew who complains he wants to help blow out the candles, nearly fighting for his right to do it instead of the actual birthday boy. It somehow leads to a pillow fight between them. So all in all, Tommy is taking it in his stride. By Fundy's second Christmas, Wilbur is able to start calculating. A 14 month old kid is supposed to be getting the hang of being bipedal, not receiving books that will help them learn how to read. Given that his son was walking at 3 months old, his best guess is that Fundy's development rate was four times that of other children. It seems consistent too since Fundy is approximately the equivalent of a 4 or 5 year old boy now. He recalls Sally once joking about how shapeshifters tended to live fast and die 'young'. He thinks he gets what she means now. Quadruple speed for Fundy though? Fuck. If he's got the maths right, they will be the same physical age when Wilbur is 25. The gap will only grow more and more from then on. At 30, he will have a child who is roughly 40. And when Wilbur himself is 40... he'd rather not dwell on the heartache his early 40s are set to bring. He has been given a 60 second hourglass that's been labelled as a 4 minute one. He's begun to comprehend this with 2 seconds' worth of sand already piling at the bottom. What is he even supposed to do? Does he bake a birthday cake every January, April, July and October 10th or just that last date? He guesses that will be for Fundy to decide in the future. Tommy has made a 'reverse leap day kid' joke before but it really is based in truth. While still a small child, one of Fundy's favourite places to rest is against his father's chest. There have been plenty of nights where the little boy has fallen asleep in his father's arms while being read a story. He's rapidly getting bigger and Wilbur frequently has to adapt how he holds him to accommodate. In the quietest of moments, his eyes will notice a tiny mischievous smile directed at him that will make his day or his ears will catch the softest of snores coming from beside him. As much as he tries to enjoy those occasions, peace often leads to a chance for overthinking to take place. When that happens, it all turns bittersweet with the desperate wish he could get several years of this, not feel lucky if he gets more than 2 or 3 of them. Of course, every time Fundy is resting against his chest is not necessarily positive. There are obviously the typical 'toddler having a breakdown because they scraped their knee' type stuff. Those are fine, all he has to do is soothe him and distract from what is usually an overthought 'injury'. But then there are the times where Fundy's fingers ache from the ordeal of slowly developing claws, Wilbur lets him dig his nails into his jumpers as hard as he feels the need to. The same happens whenever there is any significant growth with his ears too. The older Fundy gets, the more used to the flat of a small head pressing into his chest he becomes. He would do anything to alleviate his pain and discomfort if he could. And no, he definitely hasn't shed a tear or two when nobody is watching in regards to the matter. From here on in, it feels like he's on home soil. He's helped raise a kid from the age of 4 before. The only difference now is that this kid is his own flesh and blood. And a shapeshifter, which Tommy never was. They've begun entering the "Dad, look what I can do!" phase of Fundy's life, now that he is getting more capable with age. The first major instance is when he comes home from a hunt. Tommy has a smug look on his face and Fundy seems seconds from exploding with excitement. His son is let loose on him as soon as he's freshened up, dragging him to a chair where he is made to listen to the most drawn out reading session he has ever experienced. But Wilbur can't help but beam every time Fundy successfully gets through a word. The day he believes Fundy is old enough to start learn how to use a bow can't come soon enough. He knows fuck all about hybrids or shapeshifters other than the very basics. He can't tell you how to construct the most impressive of architectural structures. But this, archery and hunting? Now that he can impart wisdom on. He passes down second hand stories about Fundy's grandma and anecdotes about his trips with Phil when he was a young boy himself. As far as he can tell, Fundy laps it all up. Swordplay is soon added to the mix of training activities. The wooden sword he crafted for his son is slightly too big but eh, the kid will quickly grow into (then inevitably out of) it sooner than later. They gradually work up from technique and stance to improving accuracy and striking moving targets. Every bit of progress he makes, his dad is there cheering him on. Fundy only grows reluctant when it begins to get 'real'. That is to say, when Wilbur tries to take him on an actual hunt or attempts to introduce him to the subject of turning a kill into a meal. And yeah, he gets it. He wasn't the biggest fan of it either when he was being taught himself. Plus, he's aware Fundy's nose is more sensitive than his or Tommy's so yep, preparing a body's going to be even less pleasant for him. It's unfortunately a part of this sort of life. There's... well, there's always the option of heading down to the butcher's in town. Just keep in mind who got his first girlfriend indirectly due to the fact her dad would always give him money for helping supply produce. You've been doing great though. The important part is you're learning how to survive on your own if need be, not to mention how to defend yourself in case of an attack. Another part of Fundy's development to make him gush with pride is when he starts to really hone his shapeshifter nature. It's small at first, a furrier hand transforming into a paw here, a lump of a half formed tail spotted underneath a dressing gown there. He can't really describe how happy it makes him to see a child with a fox's head greet him one morning when Fundy jumps out from behind a door. There are features the young shapeshifter will keep in his human form obviously. Yet it's thrilling to have him keep coming over to show off a new shifting-related ability. The first time Fundy manages to morph fully into a fox, during the spring after his 2nd birthday, Wilbur promises the three of them can have an 'anything Fundy says, goes' type thing the following day in celebration. There are times where Fundy may, for instance, forget to include his tail as an animal or he'll walk around as his usual self, albeit with accidental fox eyes. It's simply a matter of practise, Wilbur believes. One of the best parts of Fundy gradually improving his shapeshifting is the fact he loves to curl up on his dad's lap while in fox form. Wilbur cherishes it. Fundy's getting older now (taller too, this kid is undoubtedly going to be at least 6 foot one day) but he'll always be smaller as a fox than as a human. Forgive a father with limited time to enjoy carrying his son around for wanting to prolong the inevitable. Fundy is 3 when he physically catches up with Tommy, age wise. It's not until he is the equivalent of maybe 15 that he passes his uncle's height. Tommy complains about it incessantly, especially whenever Fundy teases him about how much taller he's getting. It's all fun and games but Wilbur was an unusually large teenager once (only a few years ago really, though let's not dwell on that) so he understands what it's like. Going through growth spurts is hardly the most enjoyable thing out there and he can't imagine how it must feel to keep getting hit by them with even less time to settle into your new height. Not to mention growing pains. During a quiet evening, he checks in on his son and approaches the subject. It leads to him allowing Fundy to rant about the worst parts of growing up. Orange fur recedes on his arms to show a few stretch marks. Ah, he was wondering if the extra hair was deliberate or simply puberty taking hold. He assures Fundy stretch marks aren't something to be ashamed of. He got a bunch of them himself at his age. Although, they've pretty much all faded by now. It's fine, you don't need to stress about it. Besides, Tommy's going through the same kind of shit. The main problem with Fundy and Tommy being similar ages now is that they are arguably closer than ever. Which, no, isn't a bad thing. In fact, he's glad that for a few months they're able to hang out on more equal footing. The issue lies in the fact that Fundy takes after his uncle when it comes to causing mischief. The little rascal is turning into a bit of a prankster. And yeah, maybe Wilbur himself likes channelling hints of chaos into his life but you'll never hear the designated responsible adult admit to that in the others' presence. At one point, Fundy is a six year old gleefully explaining how Tommy helped him up so he could place that water bucket. Only a year later, there's an 11 year old revealing that yes, he was the one to make their chickens, cows and sheep switch enclosures during the night. He only gets more ambitious from there. God knows where he got all that dye from when he's in his mid-teens. Fundy is much like himself as a teenager. Both clearly love their respective fathers but both grow to varying degrees of resentment regarding the level of independence they are given. Wilbur always had too much. It was his job to take care of Tommy whenever Phil left on short trips until the avian hybrid pretty much said 'well, you're an adult now, you can take care of things all by yourself' before heading off with Technoblade for months on end. It's why Wilbur knows kids want a safety net, for an adult to be there to help them out if they need it (no matter how mature or independent they feel). Has he taken it further than he should have? Maybe. Fundy is the only one who can be the true judge of that. He just wants his little boy to be safe and happy. He didn't want him to grow up so quickly. However, even if this was happening in 15 years, he would have grown up too soon. It doesn't surprise him too much when Tommy and Fundy make the choice to go off on their own. He only allows it because they promise they will stick together throughout the journey. He supposes it was time. Phil snuck off to do the same around their age and his mum was roughly 18 when she set off to be a nomadic traveller. The thought to live a similar style life has crossed Wilbur's mind. His duty to the two boys under his care has always made him reconsider. But Tommy is 16 now and not as much of a child as Wilbur likes to say he is. As for Fundy, he's probably around the equivalent of 18 or 19 by this point. He hates to admit it but they've both grown up. Where the hell did the time go? So although it pains him to do so, he nevertheless sends them off with a smile. If they find anywhere nice in their adventures, they'll be sure to tell him. He might even join them if they choose to stick around in one area. He turns back into the house after they leave and fuck, has it always been this empty? He gets a letter in early July, telling him all about this place called the Dream SMP and their time there. He arrives and things seem to snowball as soon as he begins the 'drug business' bullshit. Suddenly, he's a general with his brother and son as soldiers, along with some new friends. They are at a disadvantage in this fight against tyranny but it's okay, Eret says she has a secret weapon. They might just pull through. Or... they might instead be brutally betrayed by a former friend and lose so much more than their possessions. He loses track of his battalion in the chaos. All he knows is screaming for everyone to flee. Then the agony a sword through his stomach. Tubbo's dead, as is Tommy. Where's Fundy? He can't see him anywhere. God, please say he managed to get the fuck out of here. Please let it be that he turned into a fox and scarpered away, something like that. Never mind his dad. If Fundy's alright, he'll be alright too. He loves his son, has done all he was able to ensure his little boy has never had reason to doubt this fact. Over the past few years, that love has been repaid in mischievous grins, unrestrained giggles and drowsy cuddles, among other quieter moments. It gets repaid once again as a boy playing a soldier struggles to join the side of his pretend general of a father in order to loosely grasp hands. It barely registers. Neither does the tiny pained smile or ginger hair that go largely missed by eyes preoccupied with the vain effort to keep them open. They all celebrate the independence they'd fought so hard for the next night. The bittersweet nature of this victory goes ignored. With all the cheerful chatter and singing declaring their land to be one of freedom from tyranny drifting in the evening air from the campfire, it feels like the good mood will never end. It feels like the only thing that may tear the father and son apart is Wilbur's desperation for just a bit more time with Fundy as his little boy, despite how painfully obvious he was already grown up into a man in less than 5 years. Arm slung around him as a toast is made, they are not yet a debilitatingly stressed president, increasingly suicidal exilee or secretly loyal spy. For tonight, they are still a relatively happy, loving pair. For tonight, there is hypothetically still so much time for them to stay like that.

#dream smp #wilbur soot #fundy #my writing

[taylizmasterpost]

Jake Gyllenhaal and Jealous Liz (October 2010 - February 2011)

Now, there’s a lot to say about Jake and Taylor. The time they got together was a time when he was promoting his movie, Love and Other Drugs, and she was about to drop Speak Now. So at first glance, it look a lot like a traditional PR stunt. However, they do not have a first public meeting -- something that Taylor has with a lot of her other PR relationships (think Calvin at the Fund Fair or Harry at the KCAs), and seemed generally more camera shy. 

Jake’s costar in Love and Other Drugs, Anne Hathaway, was also single at the time, and arguably a PR relationship between the two of them would’ve drummed up significantly more buzz for the film, so stunting with Taylor seems an odd choice.

Jake also reportedly annoyed Taylor with how much he wanted to hide from the press, which is interesting. I’m not totally certain if they were real or not, but I’ll put all of their stuff in here, because it’s interesting to note Liz’s reaction to all of it, despite her relationship:

23 October 2010 - Emma Stone hosts SNL. Both Taylor and Jake G show up to support her, supposedly they’ve already started dating at this point and this was their first public appearance together.

"They walked around together backstage, but they were careful not to be seen too close. It was hard to tell if they were together, but everyone was shocked that she brought him," a source told People magazine.

Notice the lack of public meeting. Strange that they just showed up together dating. 

24 October 2010 - Liz tweets about listening to Never Grow Up

October 2010 - Taylor writes All Too Well, the first of the three “Nashville songs” -- All Too Well, State of Grace, Stay Stay Stay-- that were written for the Red album before she moved to LA, based on the fact that she said she started writing for Red slightly before Speak Now was released.

We also know All Too Well has to have been written in 2010 because what the copyright record for it says:

Now, it seems to me that this is too soon to be about Jake. It’s obviously a breakup song, and Taylor and Jake have only just started dating (unless they had a secret dating history we don’t know about). It would be weird for her to be writing all this about him while they’re still dating.

All Too Well could be about any of the three women I’ve spoken previously about in this masterpost. However, I’m going to try to make the case that this song is for Liz:

All Too Well is Liz’s favorite song from Red. She has said so on multiple occasions. Years later, when she came to watch Taylor’s Reputation tour in Glendale, Taylor even played it for her as the surprise song. Sure, it could just be that Liz is just a fan, but the song fits where we are in the timeline. Liz has moved on with someone else. Taylor is trying to get over it, but she can’t help but think back to the past she remembers “all too well.”

If the song is about a woman, lines like “back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known” reads to me as Taylor making a (possibly unfounded) dig at closeting. All Too Well also carries the bad driving metaphor with “almost ran the red,” which runs throughout a lot of the other Liz songs on Red, and which Liz will later reference herself in her own music. The lines in the bridge about “asking for too much” and “running scared,” remind me of Taylor insisting she was single during Valentine’s Day, despite spending it with Liz, only to turn around and miss her once Liz got a boyfriend. Lines about loss of innocence are also interesting, when we think about that L Chat post about Liz from earlier...

Of course, obviously, you can think this song is about whoever you want. If you wanna claim it for JH or Joe Jonas or Taylor Lautner or maybe even some girl Taylor went to high school with, be my guest. I personally don’t buy it being about Emily in a post-Dear John world, and the timeline doesn’t read as Jake to me, so I’m giving it to Liz!

25 October 2010 - Speak Now is released. In the album’s prologue, she specifies that the song “Long Live” is for her band, which is interesting to me, considering that the bridge of the song sounds like it might be about a relationship, and the secret message of the song is “For you,” which sounds oddly specific:

Will you take a moment? Promise me this That you’ll stand by me forever But, if God forbid, fate should step in And force us into a goodbye If you have children someday When they point to the pictures, Please tell ‘em my name

The secret message for Mine is “Toby,” which is the name of the actor who played her love interest during the song, making it make no sense for the song to be about him (and, in my eyes, making it more likely she was trying to cover up who the song was really for). We’ve already discussed Story of Us having “CMT Awards” and Back to December having “Tay,” so I won’t beat you over the head with those.

Unlike the original handwritten lyrics to Sparks Fly, which featured the lyric “Get me with those brown eyes, baby,” the version that Taylor put on the Speak Now album had the lyric “hit me with those green eyes, baby,” with the eye color presumably being changed because Liz has green eyes:

The secret message for Sparks Fly is “Portland, Oregon,” which is where Taylor and The Agency covered Tom Petty’s song American Girl in May 2009 during the height of early TayLiz. 

26 October 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted together in Brooklyn getting lunch with Emma Stone:

Liz does a sound check for Taylor for the Today Show. A video later gets posted on YouTube and someone leaves this comment noting Taylor and Liz’s chemistry:

31 October 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted in Big Sur together and stay at California’s Post Inn Ranch. 

Liz spends Halloween with her boyfriend:

1 November 2010 - Taylor’s appearance on Ellen airs. Ellen asks her about Jake. Taylor says “I’m always optimistic about love. Yes, always, sometimes.”

2 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted in Santa Barbara together. They get ice cream, interact with fans, and Taylor reportedly laughs at everything Jake says.

16 November 2010 -  Jake attends the Love and Other Drugs premiere alone. This is interesting to me, considering if this was a PR relationship you would’ve thought he’d bring Taylor as his date. Still, Paula made some weird decisions in her time as Taylor’s publicist (like putting her with a carousel of 18 year olds), so this could just be Paula thinking that Taylor showing up at the premiere with him would be too obviously read as a stunt. Doesn’t rule it either way. Still, I think Anne would’ve been a better choice for PR for this.

Mid November - Perez Hilton alleges that Jake has picked up Taylor on his private jet to fly her to London because she was “feeling lonely.” Jake was in London promoting Love and Other Drugs so this seems very stunty to me personally.

22 November 2010 - Taylor attends the American Music Awards and wins Favorite Female Country Artist.

Liz tweets congratulations at her and seems generally excited.

24 November 2010 - Love and Other Drugs is officially released in theaters.

25 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake spend Thanksgiving in Brooklyn with Jake’s family.

26 November 2010 - Liz seems to have spent Thanksgiving with Jason:

27 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted in a coffee house in Nashville:

And, maybe in response, Liz makes this weird and vaguely jealous Tweet:

Now, I don’t know what this means. Maybe the “you” refers to Liz and she’s having what Carly Rae Jepsen would call “boy problems” -- feeling torn and overburdened between a best friend and boyfriend:

Or, perhaps, the “you” in this Tweet refers to Taylor, and Liz is trying to say that Jake is “using her up,” maybe meaning taking up her time. Or maybe Liz wasn’t referring to any of this. We can’t really know. Still, it’s interesting.

29 November 2010 - TayLiz hang out and Liz tweets about it. Perhaps to make up for the lack of time spent together since they both got boyfriends.

30 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake have coffee in Nashville:

1 December 2010 - Taylor writes a MySpace post about the CMTs.

Liz tweets about watching Glee, meaning she’s the one who got Taylor hooked on the show and therefore interested in Dianna. Hilarious.

2 December 2010 - Taylor calls Love and Other Drugs a “good movie” when asked about it, and won’t say anything more. She also adamantly refuses to talk about her personal life (This gives me 2018/19 Joe vibes, whatever that means).

3 December 2010 - Liz tweets that her favorite song on Speak Now is Last Kiss. She also tweets at Jason about his cooking:

5 December 2010 - Jake is asked about Taylor and says this:

“One of the greatest parts about being in a relationship is the intimacy you share, but it can be difficult if you’re being watched the whole time.”

This reminds me so much of what Taylor’s currently saying about Joe. Interesting, looking back on it.

7 December 2010 - Jake and Taylor do the “maple latte” pap walk stunt in Brooklyn with Maggie and her daughter. This is the only series of photos of them that I think was a set-up, but that means it’s pretty gross this is the one they chose to bring a child into:

I think the reason this was so obviously a pap walk was to get the “maple latte” in the shot. I’ve already speculated that Taylor had written All Too Well prior to her relationship with Jake, and this stunty pap walk would make sense if she needed to use him to cover for it.

8 December 2010 - Liz makes another weird vague possibly jealous tweet:

Now, in the context of Mine possibly being about Liz and Taylor saying that song is about her “tendency to run from love,” it’s possible Liz is shading Taylor’s pap walk with Jake the previous day. This tweet feels very “back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known.”

However, maybe she’s just really happy with Jason. I don’t know. I don’t know these people.

9 December 2010 - Taylor and Jake drive around LA, Jake yells at the paps.

Compare these to those photos with Taylor Lautner earlier in the timeline. These are not nearly as staged. Take away from that whatever you will.

13 December 2010 - Taylor turns 21. Liz and Caitlin bring her a pizza. Liz tweets at Taylor that she’s changed her life. This is supposedly the birthday that Jake didn’t show up to that The Moment I Knew is about. Liz and Caitlin bringing her pizza if she’s sad about it would make sense...

31 December 2010 - Taylor and Liz spotted together in Nashville. They get Pei Wei and JustJared calls Liz a “gal pal.” Taylor seems upset, possibly about her whole Jake birthday thing. Or possibly something else.

Liz tweets about going for a run and listening to Speak Now:

5 January 2011 - Taylor and Jake break up.

19 January 2011 - Taylor and Jake are spotted together by fans in Nashville, first at a coffee shop and then at dinner. Jake did not have any other business in Nashville, so it can be assumed he came there to talk to Taylor:

CONCLUSION: Were Taylor and Jake real? I don’t know. They really only ever did that one pap walk and didn’t seem to publicly promote each other’s work, as far as I could find, despite both releasing projects while together. The one pap walk they did seems to maybe have been to cover for All Too Well, which had possibly already been written (likely about Liz) before Jake and Taylor started dating.

Were those tweets from Liz jealousy? Or am I reading too much into it?

Either way, Taylor’s had her fun, and now it’s time to maybe start thinking about getting back together with Liz. There’s just one problem: her boyfriend.

The Speak Now Tour Begins (February 2011 - May 2011)

[coreastories]

Modern Royals: 10 Times the King and Queen of Corea made ahjummas ugly-cry over their romance

You know what this author loves about Corea? The delightful mix of tradition and modernity

I mean, in this country, you have visiting and dining etiquette, respectful address etiquette, and countless other delicious customs steeped in tradition. Catholicism with its millennia-old ceremonies is also a favored religion

On the flipside, this country has rock-solid laws on divorce, equal rights, and zero tolerance for  rape and abuse or discrimination of ANY sort

I’m quite in love with this country. Its people are well taken care of

And of course, the biggest deliciousness for me are Their Majesties

Shrouded in privacy and that same tradition I just mentioned, the king married the queen in July

In the course of a few weeks since the wedding, the queen endeared herself to her people, and even made friends with the Prime Minister, a formidable woman who was herself previously linked to the King (entirely one-sided pursuit on her part)

It’s now October, and we’re happily expecting the first royal baby in May!

I’ve seen some colleagues in the media voice that thought we’ve all had: “They didn’t take long.” 

I’ve also seen comparisons with Meghan Markle and Prince Harry and Baby Archie, who was born only a few days shy of his parents first anniversary. Corea’s royal baby will be born two whole months before his/her parents’ first anniversary. 

So this little article seems absolutely timely!

It sounds trite, I know, but lists are all the rage these days. Add Corea’s royal romance and this article will pay for my office’s bills for two months.  

This is with sanction from the Royal Public Affairs Office, who I’ll never cross, and who also gave me some background where they could or would.  

1. Who can forget the breathless kisses in New Zealand? 

Well, they made us breathless. Taken from Chateau Maryleone-- a security breach that apparently got people fired. If it was originally a video footage, we don’t know. Only the photos were spread online. 

The world is in love with this smiling kiss. 

The Royal Public Affairs Office’s only comment here is: “We’ve found the parties involved and they have been summarily dealt with.” 

You can see why I would never dream of crossing them. 

2. The snuggle at Pyeongyang Children’s Hospital

The new digital diagnostics wing was inaugurated in July. If this author remembers right, two of the queen’s photos made it to a list of 7 Times the Queen of Corea Stole Our Hearts with Her Smile. 

Children, parents, media, and hospital staff loudly showed their approval of the queen then, and she had laughingly and shyly accepted it. 

Reports have emerged that the queen was quite overwhelmed, and had actually retreated to a room with the king. It was one of the new consultation rooms of the new wing, with glass windows. 

People saw the queen seek refuge in the king’s arms, hiding her face in his chest, and the king cradling her against him, arms around her, one hand stroking her hair. 

We don’t have photos, because none of the witnesses dared. But they’ve all reported and demonstrated it. I’m sighing here. 

3. The hand-in-pocket cuteness when we visited the palace before Queens Day 

You’ve read about this in the Royal Twinkle, of course! 

4. Turning up late and blushing during Queens Day

You also remember this from our recent report. Their Majesties turned up late for their scheduled appearance, and then the king was just a giggling mess in the dim part of the stage (stage right), and the queen just looked at him, blushing. 

The Royal Public Affairs Office almost had no comment, but remarked that the king and queen are newlyweds. Well, that’s exactly and the ajhummas and I said, didn’t we. 

5. Another hand-holding-and-tuck, also during Queens Day 

Remember the king looking anxious whenever the queen was onstage, despite the queen being surrounded by the Royal Guard? 

We have eyewitness reports from people closer to the stage, who have craned their necks or ducked between people’s onstage legs to get a glimpse of the king and queen whenever the guards surrounded them. 

Apparently, the king invariably fetched the queen in the same way. He would go on stage, take her hand with his left and hold her hand against his chest while his right hand and arm tucked her securely against his side. 

I love a man who’s so enamored of his wife he takes hold of her with both hands. 

6. The distraction during the Opening of Parliament in Seoul  

The Opening of Parliament is a series of ceremonies dating back to 1945, when the parliament was first established. We were hoping to see the queen accompany the king, but she had stayed in Busan-- and we now know the reason why, don’t we? 

In one of these ceremonies, the king was supposed to signal the Usher to open the door to summon the Ministers into Parliament.  

But the king had seemed transfixed by a bunch of forget-me-nots included in the predominantly blue flower arrangement in the Parliament’s subdued decorations for the occasion. 

Sources say the king had a fond expression on his face, and his eyes were, according to the reports, shining, like he was near tears. 

The Royal Public Affairs Office had no comment. It seems the significance of the forget-me-nots remains a secret between the King and Queen.  

Since then, forget-me-nots in pots and seeds and cultivars have sold out across the kingdom.  

7. Every time they step out of the car

This is an event people of Corea have come to watch, even more so than the actual events the king and queen attended. 

Unlike other royals who get their doors opened for them, the queen gets her door opened by none other than the king. 

It always happens this way. A member of the royal guard opens the king’s car door, the king steps out, and then he goes around the car to open the queen’s door. 

And then we watch with bated breath as the queen swivels in her seat to bring both legs and feet outside the car. The king’s hand is already waiting, and she takes it with one of hers. 

He helps her to her feet and then just smiles at her for long moments, head tilted to her, whether or not she’s also looking at him or is already distracted by the crowds. 

And they hold each other’s hands until they absolutely have to let go. Duties be damned. They’re working royals, yes, but they’re married and in love! 

It’s become a game among members of the media and event organizers to attempt to prolong that hand holding as long as possible. 

Ministers of Parliament and their wives-- the more popular ones-- always seem to have planned on holding something in their hands so that they only bowed to the king and queen and Their Majesties didn’t have to offer to shake hands. 

It’s ridiculous and yet delicious, the way this romance has united the country like this, both Parliament and public besotted with them.  

Their Majesties hold hands so romantically too. Their grip is always so visible, like they’re constantly gently squeezing each other’s hands. 

Corean celebrities and their own significant others imitate this on red carpets, calling it the royal handhold. 

8. An actual kiss after the Bureau of Fire Protection Annual Gala

No wonder the gala raised nearly a billion won. The queen had turned up unexpectedly, remember? 

And we’ve had matching stories from eyewitnesses who saw the queen’s car pull up to take her back to the palace. At the time, the Royal Guard had taken care of crowd control, to make sure only the queen was leaving at the time, with no other car waiting or leaving. 

But the gala had been held in a converted warehouse in Clearwater Bay, and as such, a doorway was practically an entire absent wall, so plenty of people had a vantage point of seeing the king stepping out of the car. 

The queen was visibly surprised to see him, and then she was gently greeted with a kiss before being just as gently ushered into the car. 

9. Every time the king broke the order of precedence-- and he continues to do so 

For state and diplomatic events, the order of precedence protocol dictates that the queen consort follows two steps behind the king. If they have a son, the crown prince will be next in line, literally, after the king, overtaking the queen consort unless His Majesty gives a king’s order about it. 

That king’s order is only a matter of time. I very much doubt the king or his heir will let the queen trail after them. 

Since their marriage, we’ve witnessed the king and queen attend two state events and one diplomatic event: the investiture of the re-elected Prime Minister in July, the 383rd anniversary of King Yeongjeong’s Defeat of the Qing Invasion in early August, and a return visit from Victoria, Crown Princess of Sweden. 

The PM’s investiture was held in the Royal Audience Hall, and the king and queen arrived when everyone was already seated. 

The anniversary was commemorated in King Yeongjong’s Memorial in Yeongjong Park in Busan, where Their Majesties were driven right up to the blue carpet leading to the memorial statue. 

For Crown Princess Victoria’s arrival, the king and queen publicly welcomed her at Busan Airport, with the heir of Sweden and Their Majesties of Corea walking toward each other to give and accept welcome.

In all three events, the king does walk ahead at first, but then he always stops and waits for the queen, turning back to her and putting an arm around her upper back. Then they walk side by side, or even with the queen slightly ahead of the king. 

We’ve seen the queen give the king a look, but the king just smiles at her, a restrained close-mouthed smile, or an outright grin, which was what he wore when they met Crown Princess Victoria, who is a friend. 

10. A hug after a long day in Busan. There’s so much love inside the palace. 

This one is from the Royal Public Affairs Office, captioned, “The king meeting the queen in the grounds after a long day.”

If you’ve been to the palace grounds for Queens Day, you will recognize this clock. It’s in the part of the extensive gardens open to the public, and it has a little coffee shop where you can taste the palace’s appointed teas, coffees and cakes.

The print came to us exactly like that-- it’s not the fault of our scanners. Perhaps it’s a stolen shot and our dear Mr. Jang Mi-reuk hastily took it and then made the photo grainy and overexposed when he hid his phone again? Who knows. 

And who cares?! 

Look at how the king holds the queen as if they’d been apart for days or weeks rather than hours. The press of his head to hers, the curl of his body around hers, and that hand cradling the queen’s head-- these all speak of his love for her, and I’m melting. 

That royal baby is going to be such a beloved baby. The royal parents certainly don’t shy away from displaying that love. 

I don’t want to leave Corea. I want to follow this happily ever after today and forever. 

More to come! Stay tuned. 

------------------------------------------------------

#CoreaNews #CoreaFiction #the king eternal monarch #the king: eternal monarch

[stylesharrys]

sneak peek? 👀

-----

His eyes have been stuck on Y/N the entire afternoon and early evening with a look in his eye that he knows resembles guilt and pity. He doesn’t want to tell her but he knows he needs to. He knows she hasn’t been able to keep up with everything going on in his career, and he understands — but he should’ve mentioned things sooner and now he’s dreading breaking the news.

“There’s this new Italian diner opening up by work next week. Thought maybe we could go next weekend? See what it’s all about?” Her proposition is expected, if Harry’s honest. He heard about the diner opening up a few weeks ago and he was waiting for the moment Y/N was going to make plans for it.

Harry gnaws on his inner cheek as she quirks a brow at him, handing him another plate. He cautiously takes it and begins drying it off with her grey tea towel. “Actually, uh… I’m not gonna be here next week…” He trails off with a cough, clearing his throat and glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

Y/N stills, hands submerged in the soapy water of the sink. He catches a certain glint of something wash over her face before she tentatively hands him a clean glass. She raises her brows to herself, tries to roll her shoulders back up but there’s something about his choice of tone that has her a little sceptical.

“Oh? What, have you got more interviews lined up again for the album?” Her question is asked and innocently as it’s intended. If she’s honest, she doesn’t know much about his career lately, and she feels awful for it. But she’s barely making it through raiding Daisy and working her own job in the office as well as from home. She’s nonstop and on the odd occasion Harry does tell her anything about the album promo or eventual tour, it slips from her mind sooner than she’d like to admit.

But Y/N is certain she’d remember if he told her he’d be gone for a bit… especially as soon as next weekend.

Harry puts the tea towel down on the counter and turns to her. He doesn’t need to say anything for her to know he wants to talk, so with pursed lips and deflated shoulders, she shakes off her hands and joins him at the dining table, hands clasped as they sit on the surface.

She’s got her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip, eyes refusing to hold contact with his and Harry’s known her long enough to know this is how she handles uncomfortable situations in which all she knows is uncertainty and change. She knows he’s about to tell her something that’ll have a big impact on her and Daisy and she isn’t sure she’s ready for it.

She thinks he’s about to tell her in the few 5 months he’s been single, he’s met someone new. She’s scared he’s about to tell her he’s fallen in love with another woman and that she doesn’t like him spending so much time with the mother and daughter. She’s scared he’s about to inwardly tell her that yet again, she doesn’t stand a chance to him.

“I managed to push the interviews back a couple of weeks ‘cause I didn’t want t’ miss Daisy’s first birthday… but next Thursday I’ve gotta fly out to LA then to Jamaica and Japan and New York for promo for a couple weeks.” She hears his words through a muffle, like she doesn’t actually want to know what he’s about to say.

Harry watches her nod her head, still gnawing on her lower lip and he inwardly winces at the thought of her making it bleed. “Okay,” she nods her head, releasing her lip and finally meeting his eyes. “When are you back? We can go to the restaurant then, it’s no biggie -- know you’ve got millions of fans to please, H.”

Her voice is lighthearted and joking but Harry can still pick up the hint of anxiety in her voice. He doesn’t know why she’s anxious now, she doesn’t know that the worst is yet to come and it’s hurting him knowing what he’s going to say. “Uh, October.” She nods again, a little cheerier than moments before and she cracks a smile.

She parts her lips with an optimistic smile, ready to say it’s not too long but Harry can’t let her think too positively about the situation, so he opens his mouth before she can speak. “October, next year.”

His words echo in her mind like they’re screamed through a tunnel and she’s on the other end of it. Her mouth feels dry and she feels like she’s staring right through them. With two, she could deal with that. An entire year? How is she supposed to survive without him? How is Daisy supposed to cope without him?

“Tour starts in three months, after all the promo.” Harry leans across the table for her hand, caressing her palms in his hold and he’s blinking back his own tears.

It feels surreal to her, like she had forgotten he’s this rockstar with millions of fans and a world to tour. Because he’s always been just Harry to her -- she never associated herself with the famous side of him. He’s always been her best friend and now Daisy’s godfather. He’s always been someone she adored and admired and relied on. And in the past two years, since he promised he’d be there the day he found out she was pregnant, he’s always somehow been more.

He’s been more than a friend, more than a godfather. He’s been constant and Y/N’s let herself fall into the trap her mind set of them falling in love. She’s let herself think that how they are now, is how they’ll be forever -- that things will only get better from there. But he’s leaving for a year and maybe those thoughts have been twisted into the crushing realisation that she’s a foolish idiot. That maybe if Harry felt even an ounce of the same way she does, he would’ve told her sooner.

Y/N thinks it’s the saddest case of unrequited love, but she couldn’t be more wrong. She doesn’t understand how much this situation is killing Harry, too. How badly he wants to bring her and Daisy with him but he can’t ask that of her. He can't ask Y/N to up her life and daughter for a year to follow him around the world. He can’t ask that of her when he isn’t her partner or Daisy’s father.

Y/N doesn’t understand how painful it was for Harry to hear she was going on a date, or how fucking happy he was when she came home early to spend the rest of the night with him and Daisy. She doesn’t understand how much he has grown to love being part of her new life, of being around them both every day and doing everything with them.

Y/N doesn’t think he wants her romantically because she’s not good enough for him, because he doesn’t find her attractive and never could. Harry thinks she doesn’t want him romantically because she has a child and she can’t risk losing anything constant in her life to a selfish whim, because he’s not Daisy’s father and never will be.

But they’re both wrong.

Y/N wants nothing more than for Harry to be her lover, to be Daisy’s father. She wants nothing more than for them to come to one another, to take it in turns to coddle Daisy back to sleep on her sleepless nights, to teach her to write and count and spell her name. She wants Harry to hold her at night and kiss her tenderly and never leave. She wants him and his heart and his love.

And Harry wants the same. He wants to introduce Y/N as his girlfriend, and Daisy as his daughter. He wants to lay in bed with both his girls and he and Y/N coo over their little girl in the mornings when she comes running and tickles her stomach until she can’t breathe. He wants to take Y/N out on a date, to show her how she should’ve been treated by every other man she’s been with. He wants to write a shrine of songs about her and not feel like he can’t tell anyone who they’re really about.

He wants to settle Daisy to bed and run them both a bath, to hold her close as they sip some expensive wine and make love as the water sloshes over the sides of the tub. And maybe it’s taken him a while to realise this. Maybe while Y/N always knew part of her loved Harry more than platonically, he’s always been too afraid to see what’s right in front of him.

Because as he sits across from her, her hand in his hold, he realises she’s always been exactly what he’s wanted in his life. When he looks at her, he sees his future -- he sees them raising Daisy together, as her mother and father, he sees his hands on her swollen belly when she’s about to burst with his own child, he sees a ring on her finger and a white dress on her body as she walks down the altar. When he looks at her, no matter the state he’s in, he finds peace.

And now, it feels like any hope the two secretly had, has gone to shreds. And maybe they both know it, from the way they glance at each other across the dining table with empty stares. Maybe they both understand that unspoken acknowledgement of how they’re feeling. Maybe deep down, they know they feel the same in this moment, but doubt is reason enough for them not to believe it.

“A year.” Y/N swallows back the bile that bubbles up her throat, nodding to herself like she’s trying to shake the thoughts until they make sense. She doesn’t question why he didn’t tell her -- she isn’t sure she can handle the pain if he reasons that she wasn’t a priority to know. Part of her knows that isn’t the case, so maybe she’s scared of learning the truth.

Nothing more is said between the two -- they’re both too confused and conflicted within themselves about the situation. Because what do you say to your best friend that you’re secretly in love with, after telling them you’re going away for a year. It’s awkward, like they both want to cry and console the other but why? Why is now different to the last time he went away on tour? Why does it hurt so much this time around?

Why does it feel like for the past two years, everything they’ve unintentionally worked towards is going down the drain? Why does it feel like it’s more than friends supporting friends through parenthood? Why does it feel like this year away will break them? That when Harry returns home to them, things won’t be the same? That every moment they’ve spent together will all be for nothing?

Though they only singularly had the hope that one day, this would turn into more, they feel hopeless now, together. They both know what this means and yet, it still hasn’t registered that they feel the same way. It shouldn’t be this hard, this painful. But they both know why, and yet, they’re not grasping what this ‘knowing’ could mean for them.

They just have to say those words, those three words that can make this perfect -- that can promise a future that they could try to work on when he comes home. But they’re both too fearful of the looming, unrequited feeling that weighs heavy on their shoulders. So neither of them say a thing.

#I can't wait for you lot to read this #dknkjfhdkj #harry styles #harry styles imagine

[forsetti]

On Loss and Grief: Handling the Holidays

Grief is a double-edged sword-the more important someone was to you, the more powerful the memories are of them, the greater the loss you feel. The more you remember them and the more things remind you of them, the more painful it can be. This double-edged sword is even more pronounced, sharper during the holidays for people who are grieving. Under the very best of circumstances, the holidays are emotionally and physically draining. If you are grieving the loss of a loved one, the holidays can be even more difficult to deal with even if you have a great support system around you. The holidays are going to happen. A sense of loss and grief, especially during the holidays is going to happen. The question is, “How can we deal with loss and grief during the holidays?” When we lose someone, we lose them from all future moments, from all future holidays. We lose all possibility of making any more memories of them. The memories we have are all that is left of them. Some of the most precious memories we have that we’ve lost are from special occasions like the holidays. Whether the person we lost was a parent, sibling, child…that person was a usually big part of our holiday memories. The ones we’ve lost are intrinsically tied to the memories we have of these special times of the year. It is impossible to think of one without thinking of the other. It is impossible to go through the holidays without thinking of the ones who helped make them special.

For most of us, the holidays signify very special times in our lives. Times filled with sharp, pleasurable, emotionally positive memories. These memories are ingrained in our psyche from a very early age. Most of us can conjure up very vivid memories of Halloweens, Thanksgivings, and Christmases of our childhoods. These memories are not only very clear, but they also have very strong emotions and triggers attached to them. The memories of the holidays are reinforced, year after year, with repetitive sights, sounds, smells that remind us of very personal times spent with the people we care/cared about in our lives.

In my own case, my son Max’s favorite times of the year were Halloween and Christmas. He loved dressing up in his costume starting early on in October. He would even wear it to bed. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he would parade around his school with the other kids wearing their costumes or when we’d carve pumpkins. I’ll never forget how excited he would be trick or treating or how upset he’d get when I told him it was time to stop and go home. Max passed away ten years ago. Every time I see pumpkins, pictures of my friends’ children in their costumes, bags of bite-sized candy, anything related to Halloween, it is impossible to not think of Max and not just him but him at some of his happiest moments. The same is true of Christmas-baking and decorating Christmas cookies, putting up and decorating the tree, decorating the house, building snowmen, the anticipation of Christmas morning, opening presents… all of these memories have been etched in my psyche with a diamond-tipped bit.

With many good memories of Thanksgivings added to the mix, from the start of October until the end of the year, for three months, something is constantly reminding me of Max and him at his happiest. Every jack-o-lantern, every fake cobweb, every plastic spider…reminds me of him. Every Christmas song, every length of garland, every string of colored lights, every wrapped present, every snowman, the smell of sugar cookies baking…reminds me of him and the joy he had during the holidays. All of these also remind me of how great I felt watching him enjoy himself as only a child can. This is what makes the holidays so difficult for those grieving the loss of a loved one every time you turn around there is something to remind you of them, a trigger. These triggers bring up not just memories of holidays past, but of the people, we shared them with who are no longer with us. These triggers can make our loss stand out even more because here we are during special times, surrounded by all the sights, sounds, smells that remind us of the people we shared them with but without them. We don’t miss things that are associated with bad memories. We don’t grief for the loss of people in our lives who didn’t mean anything to us. We grief because of just how important and special someone was to us. The memory of special times with special people is a powerful combination. Anyone who has lost someone special to them experiences the pain of this combination. The question is, “What can be done, especially during the holidays to handle all these triggers and memories, our grief?”

One thing not to do is try and avoid the holidays and your feelings. Unless you go off the grid and live in a yurt in Outer Mongolia, it is impossible to avoid all the holidays and their triggers. It is a normal reaction to want to seal ourselves off from things that will trigger powerful memories of the person we lost. For some people grieving, they want to avoid the holidays because they don’t want to create new holiday memories-they don’t want to dilute or replace or in any way disrespect the memories they have of the ones they’ve lost. Just like some people never change the bedroom of their loved one after they have passed away, people sometimes do the same mentally-they hermetically seal their memories for fear of losing them. They try to wall off the memories of their loved ones by not allowing in any new memories in the spaces currently occupied by the ones of the person they’ve lost. If they don’t go out during the holidays, they can’t create new holiday memories. If they avoid family get-togethers, parties, doing the things they did with the one they lost, they believe they can preserve the holiday memories they already have. I know why people feel this way. Our memories of the ones we lost are all we really have left of them. We don’t ever want these to fade or be replaced so we often cling to them with everything we have. We already lost them, we don’t want to lose anything else associated with them. We don’t have to do this. Nothing, I mean nothing is going to replace or change these memories. Adding new holiday memories isn’t going to push out the ones we have that mean more to us than anything else. New memories are not going to dilute the ones we already have. The nature of the memories we have of those we lost is immutable. It has been ten and a half years since I last saw Max. I can conjure up any memory I have of him and it is as vivid and powerful as it was a year ago, five years, ten years, the day it was created. Going out and creating new holiday memories isn’t going to change the ones I have of Max. If anything, new holiday memories only enhance the ones I have of him because they remind me of just how wonderful and powerful the ones I have of him are. If I build a snowman with my other children, I am creating a new memory of them and at the same time remembering the special memories I had doing the same with Max. Avoiding making these new memories would be unfair to my other children, they deserve their own special memories of me. It would be unfair to me, I want special memories of my other children as well. It would be unfair to Max, he loved his siblings and would want them to have special memories of me and me of them. The same is true no matter who you lost, mother, father, sister, child…

Another reason people who are grieving don’t want to put themselves in situations that are strongly associated with the person they lost is that there are so many memory triggers and those memories are still painful to deal with. Avoid the triggers, avoid the pain. We do this is out of self-preservation. We want to protect ourselves from things we know can cause us pain. This is a very natural reaction, but it is self-defeating. We can’t avoid the memories nor should we want to. Dealing with the holidays isn’t about avoidance, it is about handling. We can’t learn how to handle situations if we don’t put ourselves in them. It isn’t about avoiding the triggers, the grief, the pain. It is about learning how to handle them so they don’t handle us. You have to be willing to put yourself in situations that can trigger the strong memories you have of the ones you’ve lost. Putting yourself in situations you know contains triggers to your grief is the first step. This is hard, especially at the beginning when grief is fresh and raw. However, the really hard part is learning through trial and error where any misstep can be emotionally devastating, crippling. The real key to handling the holidays is to learn how to handle grief and its triggers during normal times so when the holidays come around, you are as prepared as you can be. It is important to learn how to handle how you react to the things that can trigger or grief. In order to do this, you need to know who you are and what you can handle at any given moment. You need to learn how to put your grief away, even if it is for a short period of time. You need to learn how to be aware of what you are feeling and why. This entails a lot of introspection and a lot of hard work until it becomes a habit where you don’t think about it anymore it is just instinctual. If you learn how to do these when triggers are less frequent and spaced out, allowing time to reflect, learn and heal, it is much easier to handle them during times like the holidays when they are non-stop for long stretches of time.

Learning what your grief is, what it means and how to handle it takes practice and it can’t be practiced in theory. In order to learn how to handle triggers, memories, and grief, you have to be exposed to them. Sometimes you will handle it well. Other times you will handle it horribly. The important thing is to learn from both. When you handle it well, you have to ask yourself, “What did I do that made this time go well? When it goes bad, you have to ask yourself, “What happened? What did I do/not do that made this time not turn out well?” If you do this each and every time after feeling grief, you will start to see patterns, how things fit together, what works and what doesn’t. This will help make each successive time easier to handle.

I wish could say, “Do these things and all will be good.” I wish I had a recipe for success, a list of things to do that if followed, would ensure someone’s being able to handle their grief better, especially during emotional times like the holidays. I know what has and does work for me. However, my experiences, circumstances, beliefs…are unique to me. They are not only responsible for what I think and feel but how I evaluate and deal with them. Grief is a lonely path. While you and I might be both be experiencing grief, our paths are different. I can tell you about the nature of grief which we all share, but I can’t tell you how to discover and navigate the path you are on. I run into a lot of people who have lost a child and when I hear them express the pain of their loss and grief, it makes my heart ache not because I know what they are going through but because I know I can’t help them walk their path. All I can do is empathize and if they ask, tell them what has worked for me and hope some of it can help them, even in the slightest way.

For me, I view my grief and memories of Max as drawers in my mind that I can pull out and look at whenever I want. Occasionally one or both will be pulled out unexpectedly by circumstances, an unanticipated trigger, but even when this happens, I know how to close the drawer if that is what is necessary. I know when I am mentally, physically drained, and probably not as equipped to handle opening up a drawer. I know how long I can expose myself to the memories or grief and when it is time to put them back in their drawer and close it. I know how to do these because of a lot of trial and error, especially the first couple of years after Max’s death. I know, for example, the holidays are filled with not just triggers, memories, and situations that remind me of Max but they are also very stressful in their own right. I try to minimize the stress that is in my control. I try not to spread myself too thin emotionally and physically because I know there are going to be a lot of times over the course of a couple of months where I am going to want to pull out my memories of Max or they are going to get pulled out for me and I want to be able to treat them with the respect they deserve and be able to put them away when I need to. I also know there are going to be times when I am not successful in recognizing or handling my memories and grief. I know I have to allow myself to make mistakes because they are part of the learning process. What I don’t want to do is compound a mistake of mishandling my grief with a bunch of other negative thoughts, emotions. Grief is powerful and damaging enough, it doesn’t need any help from me making it worse than it already can be or is.

A word of warning. If you are diligent about learning who you are, what you can/cannot handle, the nature of your grief, and how to handle it, you will spend a lot of time thinking about all of these. From the outside looking in, it will seem to those around you, you are either being distant and not coping with your grief or you are being so quiet because you are overwhelmed by your grief. Often times the truth is you are neither. You are doing what is necessary for you to deal with something they can’t fully understand and don’t really ever want to. It is important to explain to those around you what you are doing, how you are feeling. They want to help you and the only way they can is if they know what you are really doing and need and why. Sometimes, telling them you are not grieving but thinking about your grief, will lead to a conversation about the nature of grief which will help both you and them. Thinking and talking about grief in the abstract is beneficial because it strips away the personal nature/pain from it. This is what the end goal should be for all of us, understanding our loss, our pain, our grief, but not have them interfere, get in the way of the memories we have of those we’ve lost.

Finally, while we can’t make new memories with the people we’ve lost, we can make new memories with them in mind. Whether it is lighting a candle in their memory or planting a Christmas tree or buying presents for a family in need in honor of our loved ones, there are countless ways in which the ones who have left us can still be a big part of our holidays in very positive ways.

[remywrites5]

May I please have some spideypool banter? Love your writing so much!

Happy New Year! 

***

           Peter sat on top of a high building with his legs dangling over the edge. He had a clear view of Time’s Square without being in the thick of it. He knew there were a few discount Spider-mans in the crowd, posing to selfies with tourists who are out celebrating New Year’s Eve. He probably could have gone down and made some money, charging five bucks a pop to get a picture with him. But as a New Yorker he knew better than to be in Time’s Square on New Year’s.

           Still, he couldn’t be at home with his Aunt for the holiday. Chances were there would be at least some drunk drivers, maybe a few unruly drunks, or even some small crimes that Peter would be able to help with. Sitting at home with his Aunt watching Holiday Inn would just make him a ball of anxiety and guilt that he was shirking his duties as Spider-man. It didn’t mean he liked leaving his Aunt to ring in the New Year by herself but she’d understood he had responsibilities.

           Peter heard some grunting from behind him and turned to see the tip of a red mask pop up over the side of the building. A few moments later the rest of Deadpool appeared as he hoisted himself up, tumbling gracelessly over to side and ending up sprawled on his back looking up at the sky.

           Peter walked over and put himself in Wade’s field of vision. “Need a hand?”

           “Is that an invitation for some sweet jerking it action, baby?” Wade asked, his mask stretching as he grinned. “Because the answer is always yes. Full consent from good old DP for the rest of time. Even if your ass did end up sagging I would still tap it on the reg.”

           Peter shook his head. “Charming as usual, I see.”

           “I just scaled a building for you, Spidey, doesn’t that win me any brownie points?” Wade asked, sitting up and turning to face Peter. Peter figured lying on katanas couldn’t be comfortable even with them being sheathed.

           Peter huffed out a breath.  Wade was always flirting with him when they encountered each other. And while it was easy to pretend he wasn’t affected by it, the truth was Peter was often grateful that he could hide behind his mask. The last thing he needed was Wade knowing just how often he made Peter blush. “It would have meant more if you’d done so with actual brownies,” he quipped, crouching down by Wade but still resolutely on his guard. Even though Wade had never hurt him in the past or even attempted to hurt him, Peter knew the Merc was dangerous if he wanted to be.

           “Wait!” Wade said, rummaging through his pouches. “I think I’ve got a Twix bar in on of these.”

           Peter raised an eyebrow even though he knew Wade couldn’t see it. “Is it fun sized?”

           “Yeah, baby, just like you!”

           Peter couldn’t help smiling as Wade pushed the candy bar into his hands. “I’m not fun sized. You’re just massive.”

           “Oh, you noticed that, huh?” Wade asked, leaning in towards Peter. “I work out.”

           Peter tried to stifle his laughter but it came out anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, wondering why he said it so fondly. Maybe Deadpool was growing on him. The Merc had taken up permanent residence almost six months ago in New York, causing havoc and showing up whenever Peter was on patrol. Peter had left the Merc webbed up to more than a few buildings even though he knew Wade could get out of it with his katanas. Wade had called it foreplay on more than one occasion, making Peter go bright red under his mask with the implications of it.

           Peter rolled his mask up to under his nose and took a bit of the Twix. “Are you a right Twix or left Twix person?” he asked as he chewed, not really caring about talking with his mouth full. It wasn’t like Deadpool would chastise him for his bad manners.

           “Left Twix all the way, baby.”

           Peter snorted. “Any particular reason?”

           Wade shrugged. “I mean a man has to take a stand somewhere, right?” He grabbed Peter by the front of his suit and hauled him forward until Peter was straddling his lap while Peter made an indignant sound at being manhandled. “Hmm, that’s better.”

           Peter finished his Twix and shoved the wrapped into one of Wade’s pouches. He was pretty sure his fingers brushed over some loose bullets, reminding him of how dangerous Wade really was. “I don’t think you’ve earned enough brownie points for this,” Peter managed to tease. He attempted to get up but Wade put his arms around Peter and locked him into place.

           “For once the Spider is caught in someone else’s web,” Wade purred. He leaned forward and slid his nose along Peter’s jawline, his breath hot against Peter’s exposed skin, making Peter shiver in response.

           “You gonna let me go?” Peter asked, putting his hands on Wade’s shoulders and getting ready to shove the Merc away. He wasn’t sure why he was hesitating.

           “Fuck baby boy, if the rest of you is as cute as your jaw and lips, I’m in real trouble,” Wade said, burying his face in Peter’s neck and nuzzling him affectionately. “You’ve already been giving me like permanent blue balls with all your teasing. I don’t think I can die of sexual frustration because – you know – super healing factor but it’s still not fun.”

           Peter gawked at him in surprise. “I haven’t been teasing you!” he said, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. It felt like if anything it was normally the other way around. Although Peter could usually play it cool, Wade had a tendency to make Peter feel equal parts embarrassed and flattered.

           Wade giggled. “Oh baby you’re such a fucking tease, you don’t even know,” he said, sliding his mask up to his nose as well and licking up Peter’s neck.

           Peter made a face and wiped his neck clean. “Are you part Chihuahua or something?’

           “Yo Quiero Taco Bell!” Wade cried out before laughing. “Fuck now I want tacos. Maybe a Mexican Pizza or five. You ever try those cinnabon bites they’ve got there with the icing inside? It’s like they jizz in your mouth except it’s waaaaay better tasting. Although I bet you taste amazing. Bet you taste like sugar, baby boy.”

           Peter felt his blush deeper. “Can’t you behave for like one minute?”

           Wade shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”

           Peter sighed. “So is the plan to just sit here until midnight then?”

           Wade grinned. “Wanna kiss me at midnight, Spidey? Gotta start the New Year off right!”

           Peter cocked his head to the side. “I think that would be considered more wrong than right, Wade.”

           Wade dropped his hands immediately, releasing Peter from his impressive grip. The smile was gone from his face. “Ah, I get it,” he said softly. “Not that I blame you, Spider-babe. I wouldn’t want to mac on all of this either.”

           Peter felt bad and not just because he missed the warmth of Wade’s arms encircling him, keeping him toasty against the chilly December night air. He hadn’t meant to hurt Deadpool’s feelings. Usually it was harder to get a read on the Merc with his mask on but with it rolled up Peter could at least see his mouth and how it was nearly pouting, his lower lip protruding just a bit.

           “I don’t know what kind of a whore you think I am,” Peter said, joking lightly. “Kissing on the first not-even-remotely-a-date. What do you take me for? Some kind of a floosy? I don’t put out for Twix bars. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, maybe, but not a Twix. Besides, I’m right Twix as my ride or die anyway so this would never work.”

           Peter took it as a personal triumph that Wade was smiling again. “I could be persuaded to go right Twix.”

           “What happened to taking a stand?”

           “Does it look like I’m standing to you?” Wade shot back, putting his hands lightly on Peter’s hips. Not trapping him but holding him gently. Even through the gloves Peter could feel Wade radiating heat. It made Peter shiver again.

           Peter chuckled. “Fine, you can kiss me at midnight but no tongues. I know you’re Canadian and your lot is into the French but you’re in America now buster.”

           Wade wined and shifted under Peter slightly. “But Spidey, I wanna put my tongue in your mouth. How can you disregard my heritage like that? I had no idea you were so racist!”

           Peter shrugged. “Take it or leave it, Wade.”

           The countdown started below them and they had a perfect view of the ball dropping slowly. “Fine, fine, I’ll take it!” Wade said quickly.

           They got down to three and Peter licked his lips in anticipation. On the one he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Wade’s in a soft, chaste kiss. Wade’s tongue flicked against the opening of Peter’s lips and he let out a whimper when Peter refused him entrance into his mouth. He should have known Wade would try and break the rules, after all he was basically known for it. His hands had slid from innocently on Peter’s hips to full on gripping his ass.

           After a moment, Peter pulled back, taking Wade’s hands and putting them back on his hips. “Easy there, cowboy.”

           “Sorry baby, I couldn’t resist,” Wade said, grinning mischievously. “You’ve got the greatest ass since Captain America. What if I had called myself Captain Canada? Do you think I would have a museum exhibit too? I’d definitely have my own flavor of maple syrup.”

           “That would have been lame.”

           “There you go being racist again, baby,” Wade said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “We’ve really gotta get you in some meetings so you can get past your hate of my home country, especially if you’re going to date me.”

           Peter let out a startled noise. “Who says I’m going to date you?”

           Wade laughed. “Immersion therapy,” he said, gently sliding his hands up and down Peter’s thighs. “Come on baby, I’ll be so good to you. And you know they say how you spend your New Years is how you’ll spend your whole year. So that means you’ll be spending it with me.”

           Peter huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”

           “Yeah baby boy,” Wade said, nodding emphatically. “It’s like the wishbone on Thanksgiving except Thanksgiving is in October you uncultured American idiots.”

           “Now who’s being racist?” Peter teased, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

           “Takes one to know one, Spidey.”

           Peter groaned. “If I spend my year with you I’m pretty sure I’ll go out of my fucking mind.”

           “I’ve already lost mine, baby. Oooh twinsies!”

           Peter leaned forward so he was whispering in Wade’s ear. “I’m not into twincest.”

           Wade moaned. “Those blue balls are going to come back with a vengeance if you keep doing that, baby boy. Like Keanu in John Wick 2…or 3.”

           Peter got Wade’s earlobe between his lips and nibbled on it gently. He surprised even himself with the intimate gesture. He had no idea what had gotten into him but he liked it. He liked having such an effect on Wade. Wade was all hard muscles and dangerous but Peter was fairly certain her could turn Wade into a puddle of goo if he wanted. “You know, we’ve got about fifty-five minutes until it’s New Year’s in Central time. We should probably kiss then too just to make sure we ring in the New Year right. Then an hour after that is Mountain Time and then an hour after that is Pacific time.”

           Wade smirked. “We gonna kiss every hour on the hour?” he asked in amusement. “What will we do in between?”

           Peter shrugged. “Cuddle?” He took his mask off and let Wade see his full face. He figured if he was going to do this he might as well go all in. Wade gasped for a moment and then ripped his own mask off. They stared at each other for a moment, seeing each other with their own eyes for the first time. Peter was struck by just how warm Wade’s eyes were. He took a moment to study the mottled texture of Wade’s skin, reaching out and brushing his fingertips over it lightly.

           “Fuck,” Wade said, his breath shaky. “Spidey, you’re a babe! And I mean that almost literally. How fucking old are you?”

           Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m twenty-one, you asshole.”

           “You still wanna do this, Spidey? Now that you’ve gotten the full picture that is my fucked up face?”

           Peter nodded. “Do you?”

           “Do you really have to ask that, baby boy?”

           “My name’s actually Peter,” he said, holding out his hand. He figured he might as well go for broke as long as he was being completely reckless.

           “Mm, I like it. Suits you,” Wade hummed, shaking Peter’s hand. “Gonna get it tattoed on my ass or at least I would but healing factor means no tats. At that point might as well just use the sticker ones. Get a butterfly or a unicorn or some kind of Lisa Frank type shit.”

           “Please don’t get my name tattooed on you, Wade,” Peter said with a deep sigh.

            “You’re right, you should get my name tattooed on your ass. Property of Wade Wilson. Sounds like a tramp stamp,” he said, wigging his eyebrows playfully.

           “Never in a million years,” Peter said, laughing softly. “And I already told you I’m not a tramp.”

           “Not yet you’re not,” Wade said, giving Peter a wink. “But give me until midnight Hawaii time and I bet I’ll have you sinning.”

           Peter leaned forward and kissed Wade softly on the lips. “There better be breakfast involved. “

           “In the actual act or afterwards?” Wade asked, nipping gently at Peter’s lower lips. “Because I would happily cover you in syrup and lick you clean”

           “Afterwards,” Peter said decisively, ignoring the way heat was pooling in his groin at the thought of Wade licking him all over. “But only if we do proper bacon and not that Canadian shit.”

           Wade tsked and shook his head. “Please at least tell me you like Celine Dion, she’s a fucking treasure.”

           Peter made a face. “Does anyone like Celine Dion?” he challenged with a raised eyebrow.

           “The Bare Naked Ladies?”

           “I only know that one song.”

           “Ugh, you’re killing me, Petey!”

           Peter laughed. “That’s actually impossible.”

           “That’s it!” Wade said, capturing Peter’s lips and kissing him hard. “Tonight will be a marathon fuckfest sountracked by the Bare Naked Ladies. And when you cum you better scream out Oh Canada!”

           Peter laughed harder and got to his feet. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” he said, holding his hand out to Wade. Wade took it and Peter lifted him to his feet.

           “Too late,” Wade said, kissing Peter again. “Happy New Year, Peter.”

           “Happy New Year, Wade.”

#spideypool #i write things #fluff #new years eve #so many canada references #peter parker x wade wilson #long post #anon prompt

[honeyrose-tea]

are you doing anything for new years? if you could call any friend to talk to at midnight to enter the new year together, who would you choose? do you enjoy staying up late or going to bed early? do you like making new years resolutions? if so, what are some of your new years resolutions for 2021? did you have any for 2020? did you succeed at them? if you didn't, are you going to try again this year? what are your hopes for the upcoming year? your fears? your most ridiculous prediction? -🌙

no, I don't have any plans for new years. my parents will likely put on the tv and I might watch a bit of the festivities, or I may just go to bed and let the year come softly. either way, it won't be too eventful. but I don't mind

the past few years I've gone to my friend Syl's (@spice-ghouls) house to celebrate new years with them and a couple friends, and I've always enjoyed that. and they're basically my only friend at the moment, as well as being one of my oldest and best friends. so probably them. I love them very much

I hate waking up early. though I love the morning and think it's a beautiful time of day, I like waking up when my body tells me to and that rarely coincides with the morning. I especially hate alarms, no matter what tone they are it's always such an abrupt way to start the day. I'm excited for the day when my significant other (who is hopefully a lighter sleeper than I am) wakes up to a quiet alarm, rolls over, and gently wakes me up so we can start our day together. maybe then I wouldn't mind waking up early.

as for staying up late, I don't love it either. I do love the night, it has a peace that is similar to yet distinct from the morning. but staying up late is honestly almost a compulsion at this point and it definitely has negative effects on me. it's something I've been working to stop doing over the past year or two. I still do it (it's almost 1am as I type this) but I don't love it either. the best nights are when I go to sleep at a reasonable time (8-11pm) and wake up naturally, but still early enough not to feel as if the day is already wasted

I'm not big on resolutions, actually. I mean I don't mind them, I just don't usually don't have any. if I want to do something, I just start doing it right away, I don't wait for a certain time to start. if I get a whim in July or October or even December to start writing more poems or posting less on social media or whatever, I start immediately instead of making it a whole big new years resolution. part of that is because I'm very instrospective and goal-driven by nature so I'm always seeking out new ways to grow and improve. I think people in general don't think much about their goals until it's time for a milestone like the new year. I guess it's also because the new year just isn't that big of a deal for me. if anything I seem to reflect most on my growth around my birthday rather than new years

that said, I did have a resolution in 2019, simply because I happened to get a whim right around that time of year. the resoltion was to visit all the counties in my state. I had lived here my whole life and hadn't been very far outside the city I live in, I wasn't really familiar with the state's geography either, and that didn't sit right with me. I felt like I couldn't call myself a real resident until I really took ownership of the and got out into the state itself. so from January to July I visited 80+ counties, often with one or both of my parents, and it was incredible. it made me feel so much more connected to my region and we found so many hidden gems. I have tons of pictures and I've done some writing about it if you're ever interested. but yeah, since then it's been kinda hard to come up with new resolutions. I feel like I peaked with that one, I don't know how I'd top it.

I'm not planning on a resolution for 2021, but maybe something will pop into my head in the next couple days. I want to be more social after the vaccine, that I know for sure. it was kind of a wake-up call that the pandemic didn't change my social life hardly at all. I want to spend more time with friends and family and enjoy the little things like the ability to eat in a restaurant or cafe or go thrift shopping or go to the movies. I just think I should do more with my life, and I've been feeling that way for several years now. I've made some small steps, but post-quarantine I want to make bigger ones. my lifetime is finite. outside of that I don't know of anything big I hope to accomplish in 2021. good grades I guess, but that's kind of a given. I'm always aiming for good grades

I hope that the year is filled with love and warmth. I hope it is calm, joyful, and that I can live it out with all the people I love by my side. I hope that for everyone else too, that they can be closer to their loved ones. I hope for less death and sickness and that the virus is eradicated as soon as possible. I hope for more equality and progress, and though they are slow I do believe they're coming. I hope that life becomes more normal, and that people who are hurting are comforted. I hope things go well for my church, because it means a lot to me. selfishly I hope for a significant other, and I hope it's the last one. I'm so ready to be with the person I will spend my life with, I like the thought of stability and security, of building a life with someone. and even more selfishly I hope it's Eli. I hope my dog stays healthy, that my chickens live long lives as well, and that the weather is nice. I hope I get to spend more time outside. I hope that children get to see their friends, go to school, and that they are more carefree. though I don't have any siblings I do have some special kids in my life and I hated seeing how they've suffered this year. I just hope everything is better and happier for everyone, that we are all more successful and compassionate. I especially hope that we will carry our lessons from 2020 with us but leave behind the pain

I have a lot of fears. I am scared of the unknowns about the virus- the effectiveness of the vaccine on a massive population, the new strains, the long-term effects of the virus or even the vaccine that may crop up months or years from now, and much more. I am scared about the state of our society and how reforming it seems nearly impossible, I am scared that at some point this unsustainable system will fall apart, I am afraid of how and when that will happen and how many people will have to suffer and die amidst the collapse. I am afraid of a very lonely and uneventful year, I am afraid of a lonely year filled with bad events too. I am afraid for the health and safety of everyone, especially those I love. I know we aren't out of the woods yet, and the new year will not be a magical fix. I am a little afraid regarding how quickly my future is approaching, that in 2021 I will need to be looking at grad schools and applying to begin my graduate program in fall 2022. I am afraid I will lose my passion, I am afraid maybe I never had any passion to begin with. and as always, I am afraid of being forgotten, but also afraid of being known, deeply known, and still remaining unloved. I think we often forget the mortifying ordeal of being known is not guaranteed to result in love

still, I don't want to dwell on my fears, and though it has been tempting in the midst of all this chaos, I think I have managed to push them away most of the time. I think fear is rarely productive except sometimes as a motivator, and even then I would rather be motivated by love or hope or optimism than by fear. I will end with my absurd prediction, which is of course that Eli and I will get back together and it will be permanent. I hate to say it but I do honestly believe it, even though I know it's ridiculous. I have a deep sense that it will happen. I don't know why. it is just a divine knowing, one that I have only felt before on a couple occasions, both of which were definitely orchestrated by God, I have no doubt about either. but feelings aside, you can never predict the future, and I am excited to see what happens regardless. there is joy in not completely knowing, joy in knowing that you will get to live it out and watch it all unfold. all that I can do is learn and love and grow and work as hard as I can, and the universe will take care of the rest

thank you for this, my friend. your questions aid in my self-reflection and I always feel like I know myself better after writing to you. I hope you are well, and thank you again for taking an interest in me. it means a lot to me, more than I can say. I hope your holidays were/are well. are you doing anything for new years? talk you soon:) xoxo💞

#ask #pen pal #eli

[isa-ghost]

Corruption AU

*Galaxy brains*

Catch me tempted to start a whole AU based off my theory that Chase got corrupted at the end of Dark Silence and is living through slowly changing and growing sick and discovering freaky powers he didn’t have before and realizing this is what his comatose best friend went through before the August 3rd/March 5th operation was hijacked by Anti.

Oh god this might be a temporary muse but god am I about to blow it up real quick anyway. There’s details on it below the cut.

Henrik is the one who put Jack in the coma and regrets it deeply. Half-possessed by Anti in the moment he did it, he knew Jack would die unless he induced a coma to stabilize him easier than blindly trying to figure out how Anti his possessed self was killing him.

He wasn’t gone for 9 months but rather 2. In-game the time Jack flatlined was March 5th, 2018 and Henrik reappeared May 3rd, 2018. He has barely revealed any info about what happened in that time, but any time he’s opened up about it to the other egos, Jack’s comatose body, or in vlogs on the channel, he gets extremely anxious and can’t elaborate. He’s trying to coach himself into healing enough to tell the story so it won’t happen to others.

It wasn’t one big operation from August 3rd, 2017 to March 5th, 2018. Jack was in the hospital on and off suffering severe affects from Anti’s constant assaults on him. Anti hijacked the August 3rd operation and March 5th operations. He might’ve hijacked a few in-between but nowhere near the level of chaos and damage on those two days. (I haven’t decided yet lol).

Henrik saved Chase’s life after a suicide attempt soon after his divorce was filed (Bro Average) and is very protective of him, but stretches himself incredibly thin between caring for Jack, watching over Chase, and dealing with his own trauma.

Obviously Chase took over the channel for Jack in his place. The community is suspecting he’s him and not Jack slowly, which he’s somewhat worried about, but hasn’t seen any anger about it yet so he feels like it won’t be a big horrific reveal if he ever gives up the facade and comes clean. It was hard enough watching Henrik’s vlog announcing Jack’s coma.

Being that he’s running the channel in Jack’s place when that’s (one of many things?) what Anti wants to do in order to gain more power, Anti attacked him (Dark Silence) and this is how/why Chase is slowly suffering the slow corruption Jack did from October 2016 to now.

Chase blacked out for a very long time after Dark Silence but beelined for Henrik when he came to his senses. When he found Henrik, he started to grow unstable again and broke down about being cornered by Anti and not knowing what was happening to him now before completely snapping again. Henrik had to fend him off, restrain him, and then had a minor trauma-related meltdown because his best friend is going through what he did on August 3rd and March 5th. Little does he know, this is going to progress far beyond just two one-off traumatic possessions and a two month kidnapping.

Anti lurks around constantly in between times harassing the community or toying with Jack’s comatose body on occasion. He’s watching and very much savoring the downward spiral Chase is in. A majority of what’s happened since May 2018 has been Chase glitching and acting strange rather than Anti, hence the camera/screen glitching more often than his physical body. The remaining fractions of cryptic/glitchy videos has been Anti hacking into the channel and reminding the community he’s lurking. After each time he’s done this, Henrik and Chase have had to reset all passwords to Jack’s social media that they’ve been using to make sure he’s kept out.

Sometimes Chase doesn’t feel/realize/see the recording getting meddled with by himself until well after its uploaded and he sees the community panicking about it, other times he’s well aware it’s going on and is acting that way on camera on purpose because he’s experiencing corruption affects or having blackouts. He‘s ashamed of himself for letting the community see what’s happening to him. Little did he know Anti had cameras record what he did to Chase and uploaded it to the channel so they all already know something is deeply wrong with Chase. He doesn’t have the will to go into detail about everything and clarify, so even though he’s upset about all the different speculations and theories about what’s going on because most of them are incorrect, he’d rather leave them to their own devices because the truth is complicated and messy and would be way too much to explain in a video or post.

Not only Chase, but Henrik keeps in close communication with the community. He keeps them up to date on Jack’s condition, how he personally is doing, how anniversaries and birthdays go, if Anti makes any appearances off-screen around them, his progress with finding Marvin and small updates from Jackie.

Jackie and Marvin are Henrik’s best friends since before Henrik met Chase. They all met through Jack. The coma struck all three of them with different kinds of grief. Jackie stopped heroing for a while and has kept a pretty low profile. He’s too distraught to fight as hard as he usually does and he’s also terrified he’s next on Anti’s list. He Probably Is. Marvin has completely vanished and nobody has heard from him. The truth is, he’s wiped himself off the radar to practice every type of magic he can find a way to learn about. He’s relentlessly training himself to avenge Jack and keep Anti away from the others.

Jameson is a sort of wild card buzzing around wherever needed. He typically hangs around Henrik, who saved him between operations on Jack. Anti attacked him the moment he was created to get him either on his side or out of the picture so he had less loose ends to tie up. He mutilated Jameson’s throat and left him for dead (though Jameson was created mute, the subtle throat scar he has is a common misconception people have when they first meet him). Jackie and Marvin found him, brought him to Henrik, and he was saved. Now recovered, he’s slowly taught Jackie, Marvin, and Chase BSL (Henrik already knew it in case of disabled patients), and floats between places doing whatever he can to help. He knows minor medical assistance from Henrik and helps him with Jack sometimes, he guards Jack’s hospital room (he’s got rapidly developing time powers and he’s not afraid to use them), practices said developing powers on his down time, and just generally does whatever small things he can to make life easier on the other four.

Jackie and Marvin had no idea Dark Silence happened until they both (at separate times on their own) found Anti’s footage on the channel. They’ve sunken even deeper into the grieving/coping methods they developed after Jack went into a coma.

Quit the Game to Win, most (if not all) of the X Scary Games, 1 Video series, any other videos we’ve had random, strange, fiery panic-worthy behavior and glitches from since May 2018 are all Chase. If someone were to watch the videos consecutively, Chase’s deterioration would be a lot more clear, a lot more scary, and a lot more heartbreaking.

So far Chase’s side affects are small glitches, mood swings, nose bleeds, ears ringing, nightmares, random blackouts (usually in which he does cryptic shit or uncharacteristic and unnerving behavior during), headaches, paranoia, and several other (mostly mental) symptoms.

For now, Henrik and Chase are waiting things out. Both of them are very stressed, scared, and tired.

Might edit this (will reblog if I do) or just straight up reblog it with more info if I think up more,,,, if I ever touch this AU again?? Idk it was spontaneous and usually my muses like that don’t last long. XD But I’d be happy to keep this an occasional writing prompt thing or something... Hmmmmm...

Also if you wanna send me asks/write/draw about this AU ever, feel free! Just tell me and tag me! :0

#jacksepticeye #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #septicegos #Isa's Corruption AU

[ravenoftheskyes]

Personas, Wildcards, and Families. (Part 1)

(AN: Time to start writing again! This is supposed to go to with my Mako-Fam fic that’s up on my blog, but it’s not necessary to read it to read this one. Once again, inspired by the Mako-Fam au on @thieves-in-the-palace’s blog. Also still a bunch of ships. Not gonna tag them all this time. This is gonna be Multipart Bc I kinda hit the paragraph limit.)

Makoto walks into her home, exhausted after a day of running around in Kaneshiro’s palace. The thieves were close to the treasure. A bit more and they could send the calling card. Makoto walked into her room and immediately fell asleep on the bed.

The next morning was luckily a Sunday. Ren had said they weren’t going into the palace today, citing the fact that it was Ryuji’s birthday and he needed to hang out with his boyfriend. Sae was out and Makoto was alone. Until she heard a knock at the door. She walked over and opened the door to reveal...

Akihiko Sanada, Chie Satonaka, and Naoto Shirogane. According to most people, the two officers and the detective were the best trio you could have on a case. Smart, Courageous, and Strong. However, Makoto knew them as her family. She stepped aside to let them in.

“Hm, Teddie’s here too?” She asked them, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Yeah...” Chie said, trailing off at the end.

“It’s beary quiet in here!” Teddie said to absolutely no one. Bless him and his talent for bringing smiles to everyone’s faces.

Small discussions grew and the house was filled with conversation and laughter. Teddie walked off to take a call from Yosuke.

“Yosuke and Sensei said that there was something important we had to talk about!” Teddie exclaimed.

Akihiko, Chie, and Naoto knew that it was probably some Shadow Operatives stuff, or something else important, but they hesitated to leave Makoto alone in the house. They knew how it felt to feel alone.

“Go. I’ll be fine.” Makoto said to them, not dulling their worries. But they had to go. So they did.

“We’ll be back soon.” Naoto promised the girl.

Makoto wanted to tell them everything. About how her persona made her feel. About everything they did.

Little did she know, there was a discussion going on.

Teddie walked over to a table.

“She’s awakened to her persona! My nose knows!” Teddie said to the rest of the Shadow Operatives.

“What did we tell you?” Minako said.

“How did you three know?” Mitsuru asked the Wildcards.

“Those labyrinth things we told you about. She was there, in the second one.” Minato said, for once not half-asleep.

Ken piped up from the back, asking about why only they remembered the labyrinths.

“Wildcard magic.” Yu said, and everyone accepted the answer.

“The real question is, how do we talk to her about it? Only other persona users understand personas. She isn’t going to tell us about it.” Akihiko says.

“...I don’t think they’ve gotten their permanent Navigator yet. It’s a bit too early to talk about them with her.” Yu says to the teams.

And so they agree to wait a few months. To let her team gain strength. To have her increase her bonds. Let her connection with Johanna get stronger. Let Queen rise to the occasion.

A couple of months pass. Futaba, Haru, and Goro join the team. Makoto and Johanna get better. They all agree that it’s time to reveal their Personas to her.

They come to Makoto’s house during a bad point. Sae’s doing her whole win/lose thing again. Sae hasn’t been acting right for a couple of years now.

“It’s either a win or lose, Makoto! You can’t lose!” Sae yells out to her sister.

“Sis! Calm down, please!” Makoto yells back, desperation evident in her voice.

Chie, Akihiko, and Naoto rush in.

“Sae! Calm down!” Chie yells out.

“She needs to learn! She’s not going to make her way in this world without knowing that losing is to be avoided!”

“But, Sae! Losing is inevitable! You aren’t going to win everything!” Naoto yells out.

The air becomes tense. It seems to be crackling with electricity. And did it just get colder in here?

“What do you know?! Everyone loves you! You’re winning 24/7!” Sae screams out.

The three of them get flashbacks to the fear during foggy days and full moons. To feeling hopeless and yet, continuing to fight.

“We’re not winning all the time.” Akihiko says to her, as he remembers October 4th, where his best friend, his brother, his rock since Miki’s death, fell into a coma that he wasn’t supposed to recover from.

“We lose a lot more than you think.” Chie whispers, as she remembers her shadow. How it said she only kept Yukiko around for her looks. How it said she didn’t really love her.

“It takes losses to get a win.” Naoto mutters, at a barely hearable level. She remembers Heaven, Nanako’s little place in the TV World. How it broke everyone, little by little when the girl died.

But then they remembered how Shinjiro woke up from the coma, how Chie’s shadow helped her save Yukiko, how Nanako came back to life.

How Nyx and Izanami were defeated. Even if for a few months, the Arisato Twins had to die. Even if for a few moments, the entire Investigation Team sacrificed themselves for their leader. Things worked out for them, because they were willing to take losses for the wins. Adachi, Takaya, Ikutski, Namatame... inconsequential at this point.

Until Sae screams out.

“What have you lost?! Don’t try to patronize me by telling me you’ve lost things too! Get out! And don’t come back!”

Okay, the air isn’t just crackling anymore. Makoto can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. And seriously, when did it get so cold in here?

The three of them leave, not wanting to make things worse. Naoto pulls her phone out of her pocket, ever so slightly. Makoto gets it. Text them later.

And then Sae says that Makoto isn’t allowed to contact them anymore. She should just forget about them.

But Makoto’s a phantom thief now. She’s not going to go down so easily.

The next day, she asks Ren if she could borrow his phone. Ren gives it to her.

To: Naoto Shirogane

Ren: Aunt Nao, it’s Makoto. Sae said I couldn’t contact you anymore.

Naoto: ALRIGHT, I’LL TELL EVERYONE ELSE.

Ren: Class is about to start, so I have to go.

Naoto: WE’LL FIGURE THIS OUT. DON’T WORRY.

Makoto hands Ren his phone back, and bolts to class. She makes it with a few seconds to spare.

Now, Naoto’s at the police station. She switches text conversations.

To: Persona Losers

Naoto: WHO CHANGED THE GROUPCHAT NAME THIS TIME?

Yosuke: naoto stp txtin lik that.

Yu: Partner, your texting isn’t any better.

Yosuke: cmon ptnr

Minato: I’ve got a class going on, text fast.

Naoto: SAE SAID THAT MAKOTO COULD NOT TALK TO US ANYMORE.

Minako: Oh no.

Minato: Minako, you’re supposed to be watching my class?

Minako: Right, sorry!

Junpei: btw I changed the gc name

Yukari: I’m telling Mitsuru.

Junpei: wait no

Yukari: Too late, my beautiful wife is pissed.

Yukiko: Do you have to bring up the fact that you’re with your wife at every turn? I’m home in Inaba while my gf’s in Tokyo and I miss her.

Chie: I miss you too...

Akihiko: Back to the point at hand.

Minato: What, you don’t miss me?

Akihiko: Babe, this isn’t the time.

Minato: I know.

Minato: Oh, I’ve got to go.

Minato: Bye <3.

Naoto: I SHOULD GO AS WELL. GOODBYE.

Yosuke: bye u 2.

Akihiko: skshdjshshsisj

Chie: I can’t believe you killed Akihiko

Naoto pockets her phone, and walks over to Akihiko and Chie.

“So, can’t handle affection?” Chie teases a red-faced Akihiko.

“Shut UP. Can we get back to the point?” He replies.

“As much as I’d love to join in on the teasing, he’s right. We need to talk about Makoto.” Naoto joins in on the conversation.

“Yeah, how are we supposed to talk to her now?” Chie asks.

“We could... wait for her to tell us?” Naoto mutters.

“Naoto, are you kidding me? She doesn’t know we have personas. She thinks we’re not going to believe her.” Akihiko says to her.

“Okay but how do we do either? Sae’s cut off all communication.” Chie interjects.

“Rise or Fuuka?” Naoto asks.

“Rise’s on a tour and Fukka’s on special assignment back home.” Akihiko tells the detective.

“What about Mitsuru or Teddie?” Chie asks.

“They’re also busy.” Naoto says to her.

“...Teddie’s busy?” Chie says, shocked.

“Yosuke’s making him work double-shifts back home to pay for all the topsicles he’s been eating.” Naoto says, stifling a giggle.

“Wait... can’t we just talk to her on the way to school?” Akihiko whispers.

“...”

“Why didn’t we think of that?!” Chie exclaims.

The next day...

Makoto walks off the train, meeting with Ren to have a quick conversation.

“Hey, Makoto!” Chie yells out as they get close to her.

“Oh, hey! You want to talk right now?” Makoto asked them.

“We know you have school soon, but we have to tell you something. Could you come over to the place we’re staying after school?” Naoto asked them.

“Sure...” Makoto replied, feeling a bit nervous.

Makoto walked over to the small house where they were staying for the week while they worked on the case. She walked in, still feeling apprehensive. The Okumura incident had just happened, and they were cops. What if they realized that Makoto was a Phantom Thief?

“Makoto, we need to talk to you about something.” Naoto said, at a table in the middle of the living room.

Oh, no Makoto thought to herself. She’s been busted.

“Tomoe” Chie said to Makoto.

“What?”

“Tomoe, my Initial Persona’s name.” Chie told her.

“WHAT?!” Makoto screamed out.

“Sukuna-Hikona”

“Polydeuces”

“SERIOUSLY?! I’VE BEEN WANTING TO TELL YOU ABOUT JOHANNA FOR MONTHS NOW!” Makoto continued screaming.

After a while, Makoto chilled out.

“So, where do you go to fight Shadows?” Akihiko asked her.

“You guys don’t go to the Metaverse?” She asked them.

“No, Akihiko went to a place called Tartarus, and Chie and I went to the TV world.” Naoto replied.

“Wait... so the stories about the Tower at Midnight and the TV murderer... those were your persona exploits?”

“Yes” the three of them spoke in unison.

“So all those weird names... they were the names of everyone’s personas?”

“Yes!”

“Quick question, Lucia is who’s persona?”

“Fuuka’s.” Akihiko told her.

“So... should I take you to the metaverse?” She asked them.

“We’d appreciate it.” Naoto told her.

And so Naoto takes the three into Mementos.

“It’s very... red.” Chie supplies, unhelpfully.

“Whoa, what happened to your clothes?!” Naoto yelled out.

“Your clothes don’t change?” Makoto asked them. “Then how do you summon your personas?”

“How do you summon yours?” Akihiko asked.

“Oh, like this.” She said, as she removed her mask to reveal Johanna. “By the way, this is the Metaverse. Call me Queen. That’s my codename.”

“Well, Queen, we summon our personas in... other ways. It’ll be easier to show you.” Naoto tells her.

Naoto and Chie pull out a pair of glasses each, as Akihiko pulls out... a gun?

“Polydeuces!”

“Tomoe!”

“Sukuna-Hikona!”

They each summon their personas. Makoto stands there, shocked. And then one idea pops into her head.

“So, the ones from the TV world are the only ones that don’t have edgy summoning sequences?”

“Yes” Naoto tells her. “It’s kind of disturbing how the Phantom Thieves and SEES summon their personas.”

“It’s to signify acceptance of death, Naoto.”

“Still concerning, Akihiko.”

“I mean, the mask is supposed to signify your true self and how you break free from society’s way of saying what you are.” Makoto interjects.

“Still freaky!” Chie yells out.

“Wait... why did you summon your initial personas? Why not your ultimates?” Makoto asks.

“We’d rather show them off in a battle!” Chie yells out.

And then they see a shadow.

“It’s been too long since we’ve done this.” Naoto smirks, as she gets her gun ready.

“Yeah!” Akihiko and Chie scream out in unison.

Makoto goes for the attack.

Two High Pixies.

The battle goes by smoothly, and Makoto makes a mental note of their elements.

“What?! Why did that look like a persona our leaders could summon?!” Chie yells out.

“You mean your leaders don’t recruit personas by negotiating with them?”

“No, just fighting Hableries and Mayas.” Naoto cuts in.

“...What?” Makoto asks

“You... don’t know what a Hablerie or a Maya is?” Akihiko asks her, shocked.

“No, we fight shadows like Pixie or Bicorn...”

“Wait... what... so your Wildcard gains new personas by negotiating with these shadows and they just enter his heart?” Naoto says, with a perplexed look on her face.

“Yeah. How do your leaders get them?”

“Uh, our leaders just say a bunch of Tarot Cards appear in front of their faces and they choose as many as the weird voice allows them...” Chie says.

“That’s... weird”

“We know” the three of them say in unison.

And then chains start rattling.

“We should get off this floor...” Makoto mutters

“Definitely.” Akihiko says.

“What’s the problem? So, the reaper’s in a treasure chest.” Chie adds.

“Looks like the reaper follows Tartarus’s rules here.” Akihiko says.

And then the sense of dread meaning the reaper’s close by comes.

“Run!” Makoto yells, and they all take off towards the stairs.

After three dead ends and almost getting caught twice, they finally make it to the stairs.

“God, I miss the Monabus at times like these.”

“The what?” Naoto asks her.

“Uh... one of our team members is an anthropomorphic cat that insists he’s not a cat and he can turn into a van.”

“Oh. So a mascot.” Chie says “Kind of like Teddie or Koromaru.

“What about Teddie? And Koromaru has a persona?!” Makoto says.

“Teddie’s not actually a method actor. He’s a weird mascot bear suit shadow that grew a body. We don’t get it either.” Naoto supplies.

“And uh, yeah. Koromaru has a persona too. He can’t talk or anything. He’s just a dog.” Akihiko tells her.

“...Damn. Next thing you’re going to tell me Aigis is actually a robot.” Makoto said with a chuckle.

“She is.” Akihiko tells her.

“...What?”

“Aigis is actually a robot” Naoto says.

“Anything else I should know?!” Makoto yells out, which was probably a bad idea considering they were in the middle of Mementos.

“All those crazy stories we told you? Cover stories. Yu and Yosuke did not meet shopping for a TV. They met on the first day that Yu was in Inaba, at school and a couple days later, He, Yosuke, and I fell into the TV world and met Teddie.” Chie tells her.

“...I’m surprised you didn’t spill any of this when you took Goro, Ken, and I to Karaoke and got wasted.” Makoto said.

“Don’t remind me, the hangover was terrible.” Naoto stated, clutching her head.

“Didn’t Ken film everything...?” Akihiko asked her.

“Yeah. I have the video. So does Goro. ‘Blackmail Material’ as he called it. I’m just planning to use it whenever you try to act like mature adults.” Makoto says, stifling a giggle.

“What was the highlight?” Chie asked.

“It’s a tie between Teddie getting wasted and trying to score with everyone there and you and Yukiko forgetting you’ve been dating for the past 5 years and kinda just... getting together.” Makoto says.

“...How much did we drink?!” Chie yells out.

“Just know that Minato, Minako, and Yu are very sappy drunks.” Makoto says.

“Wow, wildcard squad actually shows some emotion?” Chie jokes.

“Wait. Minato, Minako, and Yu are the wildcards?” Makoto asks her.

“Yes, they are.” Naoto tells her.

“...So that’s why I was getting a similar vibe from them and Ren.”

“Ren... so that’s the name of your leader?” Naoto asks.

“Yeah, do the Wildcards always lead?” Makoto replies.

“Yeah. They’ve just got this natural charisma that makes everyone fall in love with them. They’re insanely flirty if you give them the chance to be.” Chie tells her.

“So it’s not just Ren. Wildcards are just gigantic dorks that can make you fall in love with them at the drop of a hat.”

“Yes!”

“Aren’t some of the personas they can summon kind of... concerning?” Makoto asks them.

“...We just ignore them.” Naoto tells her.

“We should probably get back soon, shouldn’t we?” Makoto asks them.

“You’re right, time passes here too.” Chie says.

“There’s no limit on how long you can spend in here, right?” Akihiko asked.

“Nope, just that all the time you spend in here translates into the real world. We came in at 8:24. Sis is going to be really upset if I don’t show up soon.” Makoto said.

“She’s right. As fun as it is fighting shadows in a new place, we can’t risk burning ourselves out.” Naoto mutters. “Not to mention Sae.”

“Yeah. I should get home. See you guys later!” Makoto tells them.

Makoto leaves Mementos, and turns to go home before realizing she has one more question.

“When did you three get your personas?” She asks them.

“Third year of middle school.” Akihiko tells her

“First year of high school.” Naoto speaks.

“Second year of high school.” Chie states.

“So, all before me, huh? I got mine in June of this year.”

“That just means you’re more ready for it.” Naoto tells her with a smile.

“Yeah. Wait, does Ken have a persona?”

“Yeah. He got it in elementary school.” Akihiko tells her.

“That young?!” Makoto screams out. After she comes to terms with the fact that literally everyone in her family besides her sister has a persona, she waves goodbye and walks home.

“Where have you been?” Sae asks her.

“Isn’t that Uncle Akihiko’s line?” Makoto quips.

“Don’t talk about him. Right now, all I’m focusing on is the Phantom Thieves. We’ve got intel that they’ll be infiltrating somewhere soon.”

Makoto makes sure she doesn’t visibly flinch. She knows the plan, but it still scares her. She still can’t believe Goro betrayed them. Betrayed her. His heart’s turned bitter. He’s done unforgivable things. And now he’s planning to kill Ren.

God, I should call Haru tonight... Makoto thought to herself. She needed her sweet, fluffy, girlfriend’s help to deal with everything tonight.

To: Haru Okumura

Makoto: Hello.

Haru: Hello.

Makoto: So you remember how I told you about those crazy adults that are pretty much my family?

Haru: Yes, I remember.

Makoto: They’re Persona users. All of them.

Haru: Wait, seriously?

Makoto: Yeah. I just took them into the metaverse and they summoned their personas easily.

Haru: How long have they had them?

Makoto: Since they were in high school.

Haru: Do any of them use axes?

Makoto: Yeah, Uncle Shinji.

Haru: I’ll have to “axe” him some questions.

Makoto: Haru... Please...

Haru: That was good, and you know it!

Makoto: Fine. I’ve got to go now, though. Got to get to sleep. Night, babe!

Haru: Night, Mako-chan!

Makoto stayed awake in her bed for a while. Her mind was flooded with information. They were going to infiltrate Sae’s palace on the 20th. Ren would be captured. She decided to go to the shrine tommorow. For this plan to work, the thieves would need all the help they could get.

Finally, the 20th arrived.

Joker, ever the showoff. Jumps out a stained glass window. Gets caught. Now the waiting.

...The waiting’s always the hardest part.

Makoto relaxes. Thinking that Ren had never let them down before. He won’t let them down this time.

...Right?

Makoto’s phone starts to ring.

#makoto niijima #akihiko sanada #naoto shirogane #chie satonaka #persona 5 #long post #im too lazy to tag all the ships lol

[aziraamane]

Human AU - Part 5

(Previous) - (First)

September faded to October, November hot, or should that be cold, on its heels. In that time, there had been countless playdates - Ezra dropping off an excitable Warlock at Crowley's flat, or Adam walking back with Ezra and Warlock to spend a few hours with them in their home above the bookshop, till Crowley finished his various necessary businesses and was able to pick him up; infinite mugs of tea and/or coffee drunk, endless jokes and smiles and emotions thought long lost, buried into the ground until they weren't.

Crowley floated through those months on cloud nine. 

I have a friend. An actual friend. One who doesn't look at me like the Bank of Fucking England with a cock.

As far as socialites went, Crowley didn't mingle with the crowd, and as such, didn't have what anyone would call a social circle. He went along with whatever his mother, brothers, and sister told him to, played his part, and scuttled off home, back into willful isolation. Friends were a bother he couldn't be arsed with, family even worse.

But Ezra is...different. 

He wouldn't get his hopes up, yet. He could still turn out like everyone else. But for now, Crowley was content, simply pleased that he'd forged a connection.

"The hell are you looking so dopey about?"

Ugh. There came the gravelly tones that could suck the life out of anyone present. 

Hassel Crowley, eldest now Lucifer was dead, was, to put it in milder terms, a right ugly bastard. He had pallid skin, and froggy eyes, and hair like a thatch of mouldy straw. He smelled of stale smoke, and always had a cigarette in his hand. He offended Crowley's senses, all of them at once. 

"Fuck off, Hassel."

"No, no, I want to know, really," said Hassel, smiling a sickly sneer. He took a drag of his cigarette, long and slow, eyes watching Crowley mockingly. "Been a while since you've smiled like that."

Crowley reached for his wine, knocking back the glass in one. "If you must know," he said, setting the empty glass down with a click, "Adam's made a friend. They've been playing together a lot. Quite lovely, really."

"Adam? Luci's brat?"

"Yes, Hassel, your nephew. Do try to keep up, yes?"

"Don't like kids," Hassel muttered.

"You don't like much, to be fair."

"Shut up, you bumbling idiots," snapped the drawling tones of their mother. 

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. Only one in the fucking room with a doctorate and an actual brain cell, and I get called an idiot?

Then again, what else could be expected from his family?

"You! Out there!" Beatrice Crowley, better known to the world as Bee, snapped her fingers in the direction of her newest assistant, who scurried over dutifully. Without looking up, Bee shoved a folder at him. "I want those photocopied and laminated in ten minutes, and on every desk in this place, so make - it - snappy! Go, go!" She glared at his rapidly retreating back. "And don't trip over your -" He stumbled and fell, dropping the folder, "-shoelaces. Ugh, useless, the lot of them!"

Bee was pushing seventy, but looked barely a day over fifty. Never a hair of her black bob out of place, she dressed immaculately, carried herself with a confident air, and yet was so ruthless and cold that she could never be anything but as ugly as Hassel. The rest of the brood weren't much better, Crowley thought, and Bee’s habit of wearing a red and black bow atop her head made him think rather uneasily of a large fly.

"How many assistants have you gone through so far this year, Mother?" Hassel smirked.

"Too many," she replied, eyes on her paperwork, "and I don't care to remember anything of them."

"Charming," Crowley snorted as he picked up the decanter on the table.

"Anthony, I expect you to walk out of here still able to put one foot in front of the other."

"Oh, the years have had me build up quite a tolerance, Mother dear," he drawled, topping up his glass. 

"Nice way of saying you're a drunk," Hassel said.

"Well, I do pride myself on having a more sophisticated tongue than you lot."

"You better watch that tongue, baby brother."

Bee threw a stapler at Hassel. "Out."

"But-"

"Out!"

Hassel glared at Crowley, stuck his cigarette between his lips, and stormed out of the office. 

"Something on your mind, Mother?" Crowley knocked back half his glass and sighed. Oh, that was good wine.

Bee pursed her lips as she tapped her pen on her desk. Finally she pushed her paperwork aside to glare at her youngest son. "What am I to do with any of you?" she snapped. "If Lionel and Hassel aren't getting into bar fights, it's Dana letting blunders slip through the editing, or you flirting with guests and showing off on the red carpet like some vapid damsel. At least Lucifer had some sense. Only one of you that ever did."

Crowley mock-pouted. "And here I thought you loved me."

"Listen to me, idiot. You're forty, and all you have to show for your years on Earth is that atrocious car and a boy you didn't even want to take on in the first place."

"I reckon the PhD counts for something, Mother." Crowley pretended he didn’t hear the slight about his beloved Bentley.

"Oh, yes. Stars. How novel." Bee snorted, derision dripping from her tone. She pulled a sheaf of papers out of a desk and eyed them over a minute, then tossed them to Crowley, who made no move to pick them up. "Our shares are going down faster than when Lucifer died,” she said. “They could have floated longer had you agreed to inherit his business, but you, moron, sold it - so you're going to do something to earn something back for the family."

"Am I?"

"Yes. You are." Bee steepled her fingers together. "You’re always causing trouble with the nearest person that bats their lashes at you, but when was the last time you actually dated?"

“Uh...same year those little butterfly hairclips went out of fashion? The fuck am I supposed to remember something like that?”

“Well, that’s going to change if you know what’s good for our family, Anthony.” Bee pushed herself back from the desk and stalked round it to snatch the wine glass from her son’s hand - though not before he got one last deep swig out of it. “Find someone. Man, woman, something in between, I don’t care, but I want to see you married by the end of next year. You hear me?”

Crowley choked on the wine still in his mouth.

~*~

Weekends at work usually passed by quickly enough. The library was almost always quiet, the only students around having confined themselves to the silent study areas, headphones in situ and pens scribbling away in between frantic turning of pages.

Warlock often accompanied Ezra to the library. He would take a handheld console and its charger, maybe one or two of his own books, and sit on a beanbag in the corner to amuse himself for the duration of his father's shift. He liked Newt, and Newt wasn't much more than a boy himself, bless him, so they got on well; on quieter occasions Newt could usually be found with Warlock on his lap as they “nerded out” together. Apparently consoles were immune to Newt’s destructive tendencies, something Ezra could be thankful for - those gimmicks were expensive.

At the present moment of this particular Saturday, Warlock had taken it upon himself to help Ezra put back the returned books to their designated shelves. A five year old couldn't possibly begin to understand the Dewey decimal system, but he was trying, and it warmed Ezra's heart to no end. 

"What's this word, dad?" Warlock held up the book in his hand. 

"That says “philosophy,” darling. Means a lot of old men in old times, sitting around discussing things."

"Sounds boring."

"Ah, but some of the greatest minds were borne of philosophy, my dear boy."

"You're funny, dad."

Ezra ruffled his hair. "As are you." 

The click of brisk footsteps drew Ezra away from Warlock, curious. A tall figure rounded the bookshelves, and Ezra felt a false smile jump unbidden to his lips. 

Gabriel Fell was the dean of King's Business School, and the eldest of his siblings. He was pleasant enough, but condescending and a little too mocking even when he didn't intend to be. He was also dashingly handsome, with a chiseled jaw and tall, muscular stature; everything the shorter, softer, rounder Ezra was not. 

"Gabriel. How nice to see you."

"Ezra! You're looking well. And the little tyke!" Gabriel knelt to fist bump a grinning Warlock. "How you doing, buddy?"

"I'm good!"

"Great. That's really great." Gabriel straightened up and gave a none-too-gentle punch to Ezra's shoulder; he winced, rubbing the sore area briefly. 

"You got a minute?" chanced Gabriel.

Ezra slid the book cart away with a resigned expression. "I suppose I can spare the time. Warlock, darling, will you go sit with young Newt awhile?"

"Okay." Warlock skipped off, hair bouncing around his face.

Gabriel watched him go with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Good kid,” he murmured. “You've done a great job with him, Ezra."

"Thank you." Ezra clasped his hands tightly behind his back. "Shall we walk?"

"Yeah, let's do that." 

Gabriel fell into step beside Ezra, his gait long and loping, one striding step for every two of his little brother’s, a dance of position much like a reflection of their real lives. Gabriel had always been bigger, better, stronger, and it showed in every fibre of his being from adolescence to adulthood; Gabriel who played for the football team, Gabriel who secured the scholarship...Ezra never had it in him to be jealous, but a little put out? Yes, certainly, if only because the rest of the family expected the same of him and never got it.

"So I wanted to let you know," Gabriel said, "that I've heard a little rumour through the grapevine. A position is opening up in Arts and Humanities next year for a History lecturer."

Ezra made a low noise in his throat. "Fascinating."

"Sure you don't want to apply?"

"Gabriel, you know I gave up studying towards my doctorate long ago."

Gabriel sighed. "Ah, Ezra, you're too good to be lounging in a library for the rest of your life. You could be so much more!"

"I'm very happy where I am," Ezra said stoutly. "I don't need to be more."

"Hm. Well. That's a shame, truly. It would be brilliant to see you teaching again."

"And I enjoyed my time teaching, but undergraduates are vastly different from high school students. Not quite my style. Honestly, Gabriel, sometimes I worry you don't really know me at all."

Gabriel fixed Ezra with a steely look. "Would that you let me get to know you."

"You're my brother, for heaven's sake. You should know me already."

"Alright, then how about you come to dinner at my place tomorrow? Sandy's doing the meat. That's what I actually came to talk to you about, but I got all excited about that vacancy and - anyway, what do you say? You'll come, right?"

Ezra paused. Sandy did have a certain touch with roasts, that was true. He nodded after a moment. "Yes, we'll be there."

"Hm...you reckon you could get a babysitter for Warlock?"

"Why would I need to do that?"

"Well, it'd be a nice opportunity for us all to get together again, y'know, the way we used to. Michaela and Uriel are coming as well. Have a few drinks, crack some jokes, stuff not for kids' ears, you understand."

Ezra deflated. "...I will see what I can do."

"Great! See you around, let's say seven?" Gabriel gave Ezra's shoulder another punch and ambled off, hand raising in farewell.

So that was how it would be. A night of teasing and humiliation disguised as playful sibling rivalry. Well, one must keep up appearances with the family wherever possible. Sighing, Ezra pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and called Crowley.

"Hey, angel." Crowley picked up on the second ring.

"Ah, hello, my dear.” Ezra tried very hard to ignore the sudden flutter in his chest at hearing Crowley’s smooth tones. “Um, quick question - does your nanny take on more than just Adam?"

"Eh? Uh, don't know, actually - d'you need someone to watch Warlock?"

"Tomorrow evening, yes. Last-minute arrangement, quite unavoidable, I'm afraid. I can pay Miss Device for her time, of course."

"Don't worry 'bout that. Bring him over."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. I'll cover it. My treat."

"Oh, I think you might be the angel here, Anthony."

Crowley snorted. "Less of that, I've a reputation to keep. Right. See you tomorrow."

#tia-lew writes #fanfiction #good omens #slow burn #ineffable husbands #work in progress #fanfic excerpt #aziraphale #crowley #kidfic #why are their families such arseholes i s2g

[demamanabeille]

Primeval Playlist

Title: Primeval Playlists  Timeframe: Varies.  I’m pretty sure they were all written for Season One and Two though, since Sarah is mentioned a lot instead of Jess. (I love Jess.)  Pairing: Becker/Abby Rating: K+ Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of an old story from high school, maybe college.  I finally, after years of trying, got access to my old work.  I didn’t think I would do anything with them, just wanted to have them.  However, I think I am going to rewrite and improve the ones I liked.  I’m pretty sure this was probably one of those iTunes shuffle challenges where you only have the length of the song to write a little drabble. 

1. St. Patrick's Day- John Mayer

Becker smiles, seeing the name pop up on his ringing phone.  “Hello, Abby.” “Hey, Beck.  It’s snowing.” He can hear the smile in the woman’s voice and makes his way over the window of his little flat.  He peeps through his blinds to see big white snowflakes fall onto the patio below outside.  “Oh, it is.”

“You promised me a walk the next time it snowed.” Ah, there it is, he thinks.  He hates the cold.  He knows his girlfriend loves the snow.  They’ve had many a conversation on it.  It’s one of their many disagreements that she insists balances them out and makes them perfect for one another. 

“It’s freezing out,” he protests, shivering a little involuntarily at the thought of being out in it. 

“I’m sure we can think of someway to warm up after.  You promised, and it’s Christmas Eve Eve.  I want a romantic walk around in the snow with you.  Besides, you don’t really want to be alone tonight do you?” 

Becker lets out a long sigh, grabs his coat and gloves from the rack, and pulls his beanie over his head. “I’ll come get you. We can walk down to the park near you.  I’ll be there in ten.”  “Promise me something, Beck?”  He’s making sure he has his wallet and keys, grabbing the little box from the drawer near the door, letting out a soft ‘mh-hm’ in approval. He was planning on waiting until tomorrow, but it just seemed right to bring it with him tonight.   “We’ll make it to St. Patrick’s Day, yeah?” 

Becker pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it for a moment, shaking his head with a roll his eyes. “What are you getting, Abs?” 

He can hear her hesitation on the other side the line as she gathers her own things.  “It’s silly.  Don’t laugh.  Of course we will make it to New Year’s, and you’re not cruel enough to break things off right before Valentine’s Day.  St. Patrick’s day is next.” 

Gods, he loves this woman.  “I promise you all St. Patrick’s Days.  How’s that?” 

“I love you.” “I love you too.  I’ll be there soon,” he tells her, hanging up the phone, locking the door being him, and patting the pocket of his jacket to assure the ring box was safely nestled there. 

2. Can't Get Me Down- Lo Ball

Abigail Maitland had yet to meet a man that could get her down. She was the epitome of tough and had long sense mastered the art of putting up walls.  Not to say she didn’t care for the men she dated.  She did.  It just never really got to her when things ends, or rather when she ended things. She always met an expired relationship with the same independent, never gonna get me down attitude.  It should have been the same with Becker.  She knew that. She should have been upset for a day or two then been back to business as usual, watching movies and playing video games with Connor like it was nothing by the end of the week.  That’s what was supposed to happen. For some reason though, when it came to Becker, that’s not how it did go. She cried for weeks.  She shut everyone out.  She wouldn’t even allow Connor in, outside of work, to cheer her up.  No amount of drinks or ice cream or kicks to her punching bag could help her realize what was so different about the captain to get her down like that .

3. Cool Thing- Rascal Flatts

Abby joined the ARC for a number of different, valid reasons.  She was thrilled for the once in a lifetime opportunity to research the creatures that come through the anomalies. She looked forward to helping same creatures in any way that she could.  Hell, she joined so she could finally do something adventurous with her life.  She never thought that she’d find her biggest adventure there.  Or rather, she did, just not in the same way. She never thought that she would find love within her very own team, and she most certainly did not expect to the captain to be the one she fell for. She’d never been the type to go crazy for a guy in uniform.  More often than not, she found them too up tight with not enough sense of humor.  Becker though, he was everything she wasn’t expecting to find. 

4. Everlasting Friend- Blue October

Never, in his over thirty years in life, had Becker ever gotten the crazy increase of heartbreak and sporadic butterflies in his stomach, that some many people, movies, and books alluded to. He had never been in love, and he quite honestly didn’t believe he ever would.  He’d grown up being taught that love was a sign of weakness.  It made you act like a fool, his father would tell him.  In his job, that wasn’t an option.  Any distractions could put a mission at risk.  All that changed when he met Abby.  He couldn’t tell you exactly why she was different. He wasn’t sure of it was her strength, her wit, or her natural beauty, that really did him in.  When he was with her, his confidence spiked.  He gave her a new type of strength that no amount of training could achieve. She taught him how to see the world through her optimistic view.  She taught him friendship.  She taught him everlasting love. 

5. I'm Not Gonna Teach Him How to Dance with You- Kate Nash (originally by Black Kids)

“No,” he said flatly over his beer, glaring at the woman on the other side of the table from him. The blonde’s face face fell.  “Please, Becks,” she begged.  “Just teach him to dance.  You’re a beautiful dancer, and he’s…not. I just want to be able to dance with him at Sarah’s wedding without him making a fool of us in front of everyone.” 

“I’m not teaching Connor how to dance with you,” Becker told her, his tone final. He shook his head a few times, muttering what she thought sounded like “not doing it” for added measure. 

Abby took a sip of her beer, and let out a long sigh.  “Why not?” 

Becker stared at her for a moment, realizing if he was waiting for the perfect time to admit his feelings, that was it.  “Why would I want to teach another man to dance with the woman I’m in love with?” 

She froze so suddenly she nearly spilled the drinks in front of her, unable to curb the smile that spread across her face.  She reached across the table to cover his hand that was resting there with his own.  “We just need one dance together as the Maid of Honor and the Best Man. After that, I promise all the other dances will be yours.” 

“Fine,” he huffs, squeezing her hand, and switching their positions so he can lace his fingers though hers. 

“Thank you,” she smiles, using their entangled hands to pull him forward so she can lean over the table to capture his lips in a kiss.  “It took you long enough.” 

6. I Run to You- Lady Antebellum

There were many things in life that Abigail Maitland ran from.  She ran from hate.  she ran from prejudice and pessimist, she ran from various monsters that had long since gone extinct.  However, she always ran to the same thing… Becker. When the world got a little bit too much for her to handle she knew she was safe going to him. A year ago, Connor would have been the one she’d run to.  The one that would hold her while she hid her tears and mourned the death of another creature, or another passerby that they weren’t in time to save.  Connor wasn’t the most important person in her life now, though.  Becker was.  Becker was the reason why she got up even on the mornings it was too much, and marched herself in the ARC building, even when she wanted to tell Lester and his formalities to shove it.  Becker was the reason she tried the girl thing again, even though he assured her he loved her no matter what she wore, even if those heels did do something to him. He was the reason her heart pounded each and every time he came within her sight.  Becker was the reason no other man would ever seem like enough.  Becker was the one that Abby had fallen in love with, the one that she would always run to, no matter the problem. 

7. Masquerade- Phantom of the Opera

The soft white feathers tickled her face as Abby straitened the slightly too loose mask.  She scanned the crowd for the simple black mask that she knew Becker had donned right before they arrived, refusing to wear it on the ride over. She saw Connor in his shiny gold mask, whispering over in partially hidden corner with Sarah. Abby was a little jealous of the sequined make up that the woman had perfectly applied in a swirling pattern around her eyes and over her.  Part of her wishes she had thought of that.  She had just spotted a tall red feathered mask spinning across that dance floor that could only belong to Jenny, when she felt someone snake their arms around her waist from behind.  She let out a startled gasp before leaning into the familiar touch. “Abby,” Becker whispered in her ear, placing a soft kiss on her neck.  “I have an idea.” 

“Oh, what’s that?” she asked, turning to face him, and taking in how glorious he looked in his perfectly tailored tuxedo she’d helped him pick out just for the occasion. 

“We should get married.” 

Abby stopped fiddling with his bow tie, and flattened her hands against his chest. “What?” she barely managed to whisper out. 

Becker pulled a cherry wood box out of his pocket, opened it to expose the simple, yet gorgeous ring resting inside, and took one of her hands in his.  “Will you marry me?” 

She nodded her head several times, grinning like mad, “Yes! Of course!” 

He slid the ring on her finger, before scooping her up in his arms and spinning them both around. Neither could contain the laughter that bubbled out of them until he captured her lips in a deep kiss. 

8. Stay- Sugarland

Becker closed the door of their shared flat quietly behind, in hopes of not waking Abby.  He flicked on the front light, surprised to see her wide awake on the couch, clearing waiting for him. 

“Where’ve you been Beck?” she asked him, his tone flat and harsh.  

“Extra training with some of the new guys,” he told her with an inquisitive smile. “I told you I’d be late.  You didn’t have to wait up.” He made his way across the living room to place a kiss on her cheek. 

She leaned away, tears filling her eyes.  “Didn’t know Sarah was joining the military branch of the team.”

Becker stepped back and let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his head.  “Abby, I-”

Abby shook her head. “Save it, Becker. Do you really think she loves you? Like I do?  You think she truly cares for you and isn’t just looking for a quick shag to make up for Danny?”

“I’m so sorry, Abby,” he whispered.  He reached for her, pulling her into a hug.  She didn’t fight him, but didn’t immediately pull away either. 

“You choose right now, are you going to be spending the rest of your nights in her bed or mine?” she shakily whimpered into his chest. 

“What?” She pulled away from him, walking across the other side of the room and crossed her arms over her chest finally turning back to him with deep breath after a moment. “Right.  Wrong answer. See, you keep choosing her.  You chose her the first moment you let your pants down. Then you chose her again every time you lied to me about training to do it again.  I’ve given you my best, yet she gets the best of you, and I’m not going to live this way.  It’s too painful.  So get out,” she told him harshly though her sobs.  

“Abs, no-” He reached for her yet again, but she shoved his arm away.  She chokes out another sob, throwing his keys at him.  He just barely managed to catch them before they hit him in the face.  “I said get out!” 

The captain let out another huff, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to change her mind or make up for his actions at his point.  “I really am sorry.  I’ll come get my things tomorrow,” he whispered, defeated before gathering his wallet and phone back up and leaving.  

Abby waited until the door shut, before sinking down to the ground, grabbing a pillow, burying her face in at her body wracked with sobs.

9. Birds- Kate Nash

Abby set down her files with a lighthearted huff. “Alright, Becker, that is the fifth time that you’ve looked up at me like that since we’ve been here.  Tell me what you’re thinking?” 

The two sat at one of the metal tables in her lab, finishing up the paper work that Lester had assigned earlier that day.  The others were off in various offices with their own ‘torture buddies’ as they taken to call one another during those late night reports and debriefings. 

He took a moment to respond, just taking her in for an extra couple seconds tapping his pen on his stack of papers, as he considered what to say. “You know all these creatures.  They scare the shit out everyone because they can tear you to shreds in a heartbeat, but they are interesting and  beautiful and magnificent.  That’s  what am thinking, only about you.” 

“What are you talking about?” she laughed, confused. 

“You, Abby,” he told her, reaching across the folders and papers to take her hand. “You scare the shit out of me, because you mean so much to me, and I’m afraid every time we are out there that I’m going to lose you.”  There was softness to his tone that she had never heard before.

“Oh,” she blushed, ducking her head momentarily to hide her smile.  “Yeah, I - I feel the same way, Becker.” She squeezed the hand he still had ahold of, before going back to her paperwork.  She knew that if they didn’t get it done now, they never would, and Lester would never let them free. 

10. Boys with Girlfriends- Meiko

Abby rushed out of the storage closet, shaking the image of Becker and Sarah liplocked in between the towers of shelves.  She had to stop being friends with boys that had girlfriends already.  It never ended well for her.  She always ended up falling for them to some degree.  It was like a weird magnetic pull that attracted her to already committed men.  If she was being completely honest with herself, she was a little worried about that was said of her character.  It wasn’t like she actively pursued taken guys.  She just wanted to be friends.  She wasn’t supposed to fall for him. 

I’m not even sure if this fandom is still alive.  If you’re reading though, thank you.  Let me know what you think. There were a couple I wasn’t thrilled with, but because it was a rewrite, I didn’t want to get rid of them. 

Hugs,  Honey. 

#primeval #primeval fanfiction #becker/abby #hilary becker #abby maitland #mamanabeille #rewrite #my highschool playlists were WAY different than my current playlists

[mlmdarkfiction]

OCtober Shipping; Day 3: Dark

Ship: Dwight Fairfield x Violet Antoinette 

Notes: This is a day late because I got distracted by watching Midsommar

Read on AO3:

Read Below;

If you’d told Violet before coming to the Entity’s realm that he was going to meet the Michael Myers he would have been thrilled, but now that he’s here, and had to fight for his life from sad man the horror fanatic is a little less thrilled by the concept. 

“Thanks Laurie!” 

He’d only just avoided getting a knife to the shoulder thanks to the girl, and he flashes her a thumbs up he’s not sure she even saw, as The Shape is now distracted with her.

He books it away from the two of them, he takes a deep breath trying to think of where to go…

A locker!

Perfect!

Violet doesn’t think about it, opening the door and quickly squishing himself inside of it. It’s tighter than usual…

“V-Violet?” 

He jumps. Back smacking into the door of the locker. The whole thing rattles for a moment and he’s afraid he’s about to knock the whole thing over. 

“Dwight?”

It’s way too dark in the locker for Violet to actually make him out, and even then his head is forcibly tilted up as he tries to make out the larger man. 

That would explain the crampedness. In fact, they’re pressed tightly together, chest to chest. 

“Hi.” 

This is in no way the time or place for Violet to just be cheesy with his boyfriend, after all, they are in the middle of a trial. 

“Hi, Violet,” His voice shakes slightly. “Did Michael see you? Did you lead him here?” He loves Violet, but...he’d prefer if they both got out of this trial alive and uninjured. 

“Nu-uh.” 

He leans up on his tippy toes, pressing a surprisingly tame kiss to Dwight’s jaw. Violet doesn’t need to see Dwight’s face to tell he’s bright red. 

They’ve not had a lot of time alone with one another since being brought into the Entity’s realm. Dwight had been gone for a while before Violet himself was taken, and even after being reunited, they were still never exactly alone. Between trials all the survivors are together at the campfire, and even on the rare occasion like today, when they’re both chosen to be in the same trial it’s not as if they should be doing this. 

It’s just a happy accident. A happy accident Violet is more than willing to take advantage of. 

“We should get back out there and help-” 

Dwight’s cut off by a kiss. He’s weak, especially when Violet’s involved. He melts back into the kiss, returning it eagerly. It really has been too long since they’ve been intimate like this…

He’s sure the other survivors will be fine, he just wants a couple more minutes of making out with his boyfriend, even if it’s in a weird, dark closet where a killer could come and separate them any minute.

#Dwight #dwight fairfield #Dwight Fairfield x Violet Antoinette #OC x Canon #OCxCanon #oc: Violet Antoinette #OCtoberShip2019

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Twiggy’s got the best view!

There was a meteor shower at Cape Mulberry Island and it was awesome! The campers came over by ferry just to check it out since it’s not too far and the ride was free. It was a bit crowded but worth the trip! Twiggy showed us a good place to watch the spectacular sight!

On our way to Royal Planetarium, I ran into some friends who also came to watch the meteor shower. We went from being a group of eight to a party of fifteen in the twenty minutes it took to get there! After all, the more the merrier!

First we ran into Miki, Satoshi, and Scotch on the ferry. It was a pleasant surprise to see the psychic gang so soon as in all honesty, I probably only see Miki about twice a year as she’s super busy and lives kinda far.  The trip to Cape Mulberry was kind of a spur of a moment thing for her. In fact, it was Scotch’s idea to bring her along on what was originally a date for the guys as he saw the occasion as a bonding experience for the three of them.

Since I last saw the trio over in Bristletown, a few things have changed since then. First, the consultation office is still going strong. Business is a bit slow now, but that’s expected as it tends to fluctuate. As long as the exorcisms don’t cause too much damage and the clients are happy, then it’s all good. 

The main reason for this outing, and the biggest change overall, has to do with Satoshi and Scotch’s matching rings. As of three days ago, the couple is engaged - which wasn’t really a surprise for the other psychics as they’ve been waiting for that moment for years. It doesn’t really look like it, but Miki’s really happy for her brother. Not that she doesn’t like Scotch, it’s just their personalities are so different and out of sync. They like and respect each other - though Scotch can be a bit too overbearing and overly supportive - but they’re just so opposite each other that it’s hard for Miki to see eye to eye with him. Still, she’s happy for the couple and knows that Scotch - whether she accepts it or not - is the right guy for her brother.

There’s no date set yet but they’re considering a fall wedding, probably in October. And Miki’s planning the wedding because to be honest, she’s the only one out of all their friends who is practical and actually gets things done. The others are willing to help but if anyone other than Miki’s in charge, nothing will ever get done. The newly engaged couple looks so happy together and I wish them the best!

After leaving the ferry station, we ran into Landry, who happened to be in the neighborhood. She was over in Mulberry for work and decided to spend an extra night here after hearing about the meteor shower. Things have been kinda slow for her, especially since she spent the last few years in space. It takes some getting used to adjusting back on Earth and she’s taking advantage of her free time before being called to another space assignment - which won’t be for a long while she hopes. While exploring space is fun, you can easily get homesick.

Having Landry tag along makes it a lot more fun because she knows pretty much everything there is to know about astronomy! Before heading to the planetarium, she did some research about the meteor shower and gave us a lot of interesting facts about meteor showers.

Finally, as we walked through downtown Mulberry, we ran into the Kayode triplets. They were looking for the perfect spot to view the meteor shower where they can take pics since Uncle Ludwig can’t make it because he’s busy working on a secret project. Jenny came prepared with a portable telescope, a camera, several pairs of binoculars, a picnic basket, flashlights, and a first aid kit.

The triplets have been busy with school, especially since finals are coming up. Jenny’s already planning out her study schedule as well as working on getting an internship at Francois Viola Productions. Clarry’s done recording her album so now she’s just focused on surviving the semester and being the life of the party. And since Clarry’s album is done, that means Lyndi can sit back and relax too - at least until finals start. She’s been negotiating some business ventures but nothing has really stuck yet. Still, she’s hoping that inspiration will strike at the right moment - but that’s most likely going to depend on the success of Clarry’s album.

Once we got to the planetarium, we hiked up several flights of stairs until we reached the top. Thanks to Celeste, we have access to an area that’s usually closed off so we got that place to ourselves. While waiting for the meteor shower to start, we searched for constellations. This is probably the closest I’ve ever been to the stars. It’s a different experience viewing the night sky up high than on the ground.

The meteors came and went, and it was magical! From the view up here, it feels like we’ve been transported into another world. A cosmic experience, one that makes you feel small in a good way. Time somehow stretches when you’re sucked into the wonders of the universe. 

If I were to never experience another meteor shower again, this one would be more than enough.

junebug|previous|ao3|next

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble