#(actually that sounds like a devastating life her husband sucks)

[ghost-in-fools-garments]

holy fucking shit

Spin the wheel and let it randomly assign you a gender identity.

[creedslove]

🌹Anon here! Sadly things with my step sister hasn't gotten any better, she has blocked my step Dad and everyone on his side, so we cannot contact her whatsover. It has been really difficult to navigate, she is only 11, and we can only pray she comes back to us eventually. Sob story aside, could I get some sweet Dave fluff? Him just being a great dad to his newborn baby. A mercernary with a newborn just making pancakes shirtless while carring the baby in one of those fabric wrap slings. Please and thank you ♥️

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: hi my darling 🌹 anon, it's good seeing you here, although the news aren't the best! I'm so sad to know your step dad's and his daughter's situation isn't great that way! It really sucks, she's so young she doesn't even have a clue about how devastating her behavior towards him is, but hopefully things will work out! I hope they can settle things down and work on their father-daughter relationship properly! I'll be rooting for them, and keep us updated whenever you can, alright?! Love you!

• when you woke up, the first thing was to look for Dave on his side of the bed, but it was empty and cold, meaning he had been up for a while; you checked on the clock and of course he's been up for ages, he still follows his military old habits, so you decided to get up

• but before doing anything else, you went over to your baby's room, wanting to check on little Davie, the little miracle that come over to give Dave's life a new meaning, along with you, and of course he couldn't pass up the opportunity to name his baby boy after himself when you offered it, and from that day on, you had your Dave, soon-to-be husband, and your sweet little Davie

• but Davie wasn't really in his crib, so you paid attention to your surroundings and of course you could hear soft giggles and a delicious smell of pancakes coming from downstairs, so you took the opportunity to freshen up in the bathroom and take some time to wake up before going to your family

• and once you got to the kitchen, of course you found Dave still shirtless, messy bed hair, working on his pancakes as Davie watched everything curiously from his comfortable carrier sling that made him look like the cutest kangaroo baby you'd ever seen

• Davie cooed and giggled, amazed at what his daddy was doing, he didn't actually understand, but he liked the sound of it and once you got closer and greeted your boys, you were welcomed by the sweetest smile you'd ever seen

"here honey, let me handle him, so you can make your pancakes"

• you offered carefully, knowing Dave was handy but still worried to have his son so close to the stove, you quickly helped him untangle your baby from the sling and held him into his arms

"are you hungry for daddy's pancakes, baby? Pancakes are his thing, he makes the best ones in the world!"

• and it was true; Dave's pancakes were delicious and he was great at it, there was a time he would make his daughters from his first marriage some every single Saturday morning, and they'd cheer up and talk about how daddy was the best! Unfortunately, that stopped after his and Carol's traumatic divorce and things took a downhill turn and Dave lost that connection once they got too old for that or just didn't seem so interested in spending time with him

• but things changed again when he began dating you: first of all, you liked his pancakes, and you loved watching him make them. He was always so attentive and focused and god, he looked too handsome doing the most domestic things

• and once you got pregnant, Dave noticed you enjoyed his domestic presence even more: unlike Carol who always complained about how his cologne or aftershave made her nauseous, you just craved his presence, you wanted to be all over him the entire time, and Dave loved that, you two bonded during a time he honestly thought couples drifted apart from his experience, it was magical, and luckily to him, that bond didn't break once little David was born, quite the opposite, the three of you became a stronger little family together

• and he couldn't express how much he loved that, how important it was, he still went out, did his dangerous job and went back home with his pocket full of money, but if there was something he would always do for his family, was definitely making pancakes for his beautiful family 💗

____

[the-firebird69]

We have several people in Charlotte county and punta Gorda who have to go and their assholes okay and I mean it these people are vagrants do you have big jobs to do tonight and right now they have to try and save their people and they're out in the park disturbing my husband on purpose I mean what winter is okay they need to get the hell out of here it sucks so bad.

-the civil announcements to make and the puke said he's going to ride by and here he comes firstly there are huge attacks going on against the morlock gigantic attacks and they are gaining momentum and gaining in size not shrinking and that's in the eastern hemisphere they're loading up into the areas of operation and they're deleting tons of them as in getting rid of them it's non-stop too

-the civil other things occurring and these people who are here are massively fried and don't want to announce because they want to get rid of their own people and their weakest hell we'd like to get rid of your own people too but there's tons of us and your computers don't exist during your imagination cheesy computers that you built at your USF have been gone for years and every time you try and build one honestly you should send them back to you in the format you so you'll understand it they're crappy computers but they're good enough to do stuff to you with if you put on my s***** robot he knows just the one actually since you were covering Tommy f and you tried to get us to fight them we're going to send that thing after you so they're acting very heinous on purpose so listening to your shouting and s*** we have to find out what it is has never occurred to you that you're dumber than a brick of s*** it's like Army intelligence that's what I grew up as an army brat and dad was helping you dumb f****** God damn ignorant piece of s*** wiggers God knows why I certainly don't even know I'm one of them now you figure it out so you talk about a lot this a****** saying it's a sound device and he's going to bring it home and try and use it on my husband so I want him out

And they're saying they're on it good

-there's huge basis that they're attacking in the eastern hemisphere but really they're almost gone they're that were partially remaining is really seven that are super mega bases and those are now coming under attack and they're planning on devastating them s*** that was a real bug. They're beginning to assault at this time and it is a huge assault and it's going on momentarily. There's about seven of those and that's in total after that they're not they don't really have that many bases.

-this is the Western hemisphere and it's going to come under attack momentarily and yeah that idiot gets arrested every day it could be Garth and he's a f** and he needs to leave too what losers okay they don't live a civilized life if I offered it they don't. The more I have significant bases in the Western hemisphere they have about 200 that are kind of well they're about 10x10 and they have 300 that are four or five by five and they have 20 that are like 70 by 15 literally that's pretty big then that's where they're coming from they said we're all evacuating to Australia and they're laughing and saying all that stuff tons of them were though and they knew I didn't want laughing that much it kind of covered up the fact that they have 10 more people Mac knew about it and it says he's getting it from the future exactly s*** head most people don't let me tell myself. Max says yes that's true so if they just sit here and do her this monkey show I mean these people are as dumb as primates and is annoying so Dave went was eight or nine characters so far over at fisherman's village it was two or three here and he just came back again and it's a different guy we think I'm the same ebike he dropped off so he's doing great I guess smart people check that stuff and they go after people who are f*** ups but really it's kind of an order so going after a ton of people for it it's great cover to go after both sides

-there are huge attacks going on the shortly in the Western hemisphere but not only on based they're going to start with the tax on bases of operation. And it works real well to attack both they're all going to get sucked over there it's a great decision we think it's an awesome idea and we think it's going to work very nice there's no reason why I shouldn't we are going to express more interest in my husband's day to day life this was horrible and it can't be repeated there's a lot of loose ends every day it's terrible and the guys are the ones who are driving it now and globally too that group is exhaustingly huge we had to man up and we didn't man up as much as we should.

-well there's bugs at him so he has to move but there's a big list of things they're attacking the planetoids it's not going very well and they're getting your asses kicked they are attacking several other areas other than the planetoids and still they are persisting during the large attacks on their basis and it's not really helping them is huge huge strikes on the basis and they are still going after the planets planet toys they're going after the saucer shortly and a huge groups okay massive numbers and we're talking about trillions and trillions and trillions of troops trillions really there's going to be a huge Force going after these ships.

More shortly

Hera he said a little not a ton but helped us

Zues

Olympus

[averagekanadekinnie]

HIHIII can i request a captain spaceboy x reader who helps him after the entire sweetheart thing…and they start dating >:]

also g/n reader plz!!

TY!!!

(OMORI) CAPT. SPACE (EX) BOYFRIEND x READER

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Omori Spoilers

Notes: SHAHSHHSHSJDOFOFBSPACE BOYFRIEND MY BELOVED I LOVE HIMM AURHFGHFH!!!!! tysm for requesting him, love that guy!!! <333 also i forgot to make whatever the hell you call this vvv for him so i made it last minute so ITS KINDA BAD!!

Oh HOW LUCKY he is to have you!!

After the whole first breakup SWEETHEART situation, he was devastated.

He literally became SPACE EX-BOYFRIEND and fell into a depression after that relationship he was in

But you came into his life and he could not be more thankful.

"The CAPTAIN became all depressed about HER.. he refuses to do anything now.." You overheard some SPACE PIRATES talking about their "captain."

You couldn’t help but listen, sure it’s none of your business but again? Holy crap..

"I didn’t quit my old job to be doing absolutely nothing now!"

Poor guy.. should you do something about it??

"Maybe it’ll pass and he’ll get over it, don’t quit your job."

Okay well if they’re not here.. it’s better to do something rather than do nothing right?

After hearing their conversation, you decided to sneak inside SPACE EX-HUSBAND’s house, to see for yourself. You could literally just ask the SPACE PIRATES to come in and try to help but whatever.

The other SPACE PIRATES were too busy to notice you so you walked up to his bedroom and took a good look at the EX-CAPTAIN who was just laying in bed, literally coughing.

"*cough..* *cough..* oh.. SWEETHEART..~ My precious… *cough* sweet-jelly-filled-donut..!" He spoke lowly as you just stared at him with pity, he was literally love sick after all.

You coughed to try and get his attention, before speaking up.

"Um.. excuse me.. 'CAPTAIN..' are you alright??? You seem a bit sick so.."

"Nothing matters.. *cough*to me… but my precious SWEETHEART.." He spoke while literally coughing.

Well.. someone has it bad.

"I’m gonna guess and say that this 'SWEETHEART' person broke up with you? That must suck."

"It— *cough* is.."

And that’s how you both met. You surprisingly became his little therapist while he slowly got better.

The SPACE PIRATES started noticing that literally broke in here but after realizing you’re just trying to help the CAPTAIN get better so they left you alone, secretly watching to see if it’s working.

And it.. surprisingly did. His mixtape wasn’t even needed!

So after he got a little better to the point where he got up from his bed, he thanked you and asked if you would like to travel alongside him with his crew.

It sounded fun so of course, why not?

"Y/N, I thank you dearly for helping me to try and get over SWEETHEART.. I see now that she wasn’t the one for me." CAPT. SPACEBOY thanks you as he FINALLY gets up from his bed.

You only nod. "Of course, I heard it from your.. comrades, if that’s what you call them, that this whole SWEETHEART thing was messing you up so.. yeah." You awkwardly chuckle, followed by CAPT. SPACEBOY chuckling as well.

"Well I must repay you for your act of kindness! Would you like to travel alongside me and my crew? We will travel among the stars and the galaxy itself! It’ll be very adventurous!"

You weren’t expecting that but hey! An adventure sounds nice!

"Oh yeah sure, that sounds like fun." After saying that, CAPT. SPACEBOY felt HAPPY!

"Well then! C’MON CREW, let’s go to the FROZEN LAKE and get some SNO-CONES! You too, Y/N!"

And it was fun! The SNO-CONES were delicious. You guys then travel some parts of the GALAXY together.

During this, CAPT. SPACEBOY fell HARD for you. Even if it was none of your business, you still helped him with his problem of SWEETHEART and he is forever in your debt.

And I’m not gonna lie.. it was so obvious, YOU even noticed.

Like, he would tell you how your hair looks nice n other corny stuff.

AND!! He would tell you a lot about SPACE, some fun facts and other cool things!

When he actually confessed, he was so corny and a huge dork it was sort of cute.

"Y/N!.. I have— something to tell you and give you!!" CAPT. SPACEBOY said as he held up a daisy towards you. He was literally shaking.

"This is so hard to say, why is this so hard to say?!"

"CAPT. SPACEBOY?..—"

"Y/N I HAVE ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR YOU!"

Ah, wow.

You only smiled at him and took the daisy. "Took you long enough, actually!"

"Wait you seriously knew this entire time?!"

"..Maybe."

"This is so embarrassing.."

You simply give him a pat on the back, before saying,

"I love you too, CAPTAIN SPACE BOYFRIEND."

He was stunned for about, a minute before straight up hugging you.

"HAHA! I’M SO HAPPY! LET US TRAVEL THROUGH THE ENTIRE GALAXY AND MANY MORE THAT AWAITS US, Y/N!"

"Sounds like a plan!"

Congrats! CAPT. SPACEBOY has been promoted to YOUR CAPT. SPACE BOYFRIEND!

He loves you a LOT AND PROVES IT EVERY SINGLE SECOND.

He completely forgot about SWEETHEART and focuses on YOU and the crew!

He definitely made you a special mixtape and you both listen to it on the daily.

Oh, you wanna know what’s funny?

You know the daisy that CAPT. SPACE BOYFRIEND gave you?

Even though daisy’s may symbolize innocence and or purity, it mostly symbolizes NEW BEGINNINGS.

A BRAND NEW, NEW BEGINNING relationship for CAPT. SPACE BOYFRIEND and YOU!

[thefanficmonster]

Power Couple

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Sean, Felix, Dave, and Joel welcome Corpse’s girlfriend to a game of Party Animals. It’s her first time playing and she has to deal with a lot more than just the controls and objectives - her boyfriend being a cute, cuddly sweetheart with ulterior motives to his clinginess.

Requested by @susceptible-but-siriusexual. Thank you so much for your request! Hope I captured what you wanted and how you wanted. Feel free to send any other requests you may have XOXO

It’s been one hell of a day. Had to correct twice as many documents as I was originally supposed to at work; found my car with a flat tire in the parking lot as I was about to go home; argued with my boss over the phone while stuck in a traffic jam. It’s been a rough twelve hours, but it has led me here and that’s what I’d rather think about.

By ‘here’ I mean I’m sitting on the couch in Corpse’s recording room, my computer in my lap, my screen displaying the screen to the game Party Animals. The suggestion was Corpse’s. He immediately picked up on my below par mood and wasted no time finding a solution to bright up the remainder of the day, shadowing the shitty portion of it. I am not what you would call a gamer. Sure I’ve played Among Us with Corpse and his friends a few times. Even that I struggle to do because I’m internally fangirling over all the people in the lobby. Yeah, dating a youtuber doesn’t mean you automatically stop gushing over the many content creators on the platform you’ve been watching for quite some time now. Corpse knows how nervous I get so he’s always near me when we play with Sean, Felix and the other. All he has to do is give me that encouraging smile and wink of his and I’m good to go. Side note: massive props to him for going easy on me in Among Us, getting teasingly called ‘simp’ by his friends in the process.

“You’ll love it.“ He promised me over and over again as the game was downloading on my computer.

“I don’t doubt that, Corpse. But I am going in completely blind and I seriously don’t wanna embarrass myself.“ I mumble a quick ‘nor you‘ under my breath, hoping he doesn’t catch it because I’m in for a pep talk if he does. 

To my dismay, he does, “Listen here, you couldn’t embarrass me even if you actively tried to do something outrageous. Most likely scenario, I’d join you in the act.” He ducks in front of the couch so we’re at eye level, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in the sweetest, most comforting gesture ever. “We’ll show em who’s the boss at stealing candy.”

I can’t help but laugh, feeling unable to express just how much this man means to me. Words can’t do the feeling justice.

“Y/N!“

“Y/N!!“

“Corpse Wife has arrived!“

Hearing all the greetings lights a flame in my chest, the warmth spreading all the way to my neck and cheeks. “Hi guys! Missed playing with you!”

“We missed you too!“ Dave, the only one of the gaming gang I’ve actually met in person, replies to me, his words along with all the others’ wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. Despite them knowing I’m a fan of theirs, they’ve always made me feel welcomed, comfortable, nothing less than them.

“You know anything about this game?“ Felix asks me.

I shake my head, almost forgetting he can’t see me, “Corpse told me it’s funny and cute. It sounds like the perfect game for me.” 

“Oh no, this is a game of survival. Survival of the fittest!“ Sean shouts excitedly, a bang following his shout I can only assume was him hitting his desk.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty fit.“ I shrug my shoulders, laughing along with the guys.

“This is the only way to find out if you actually are.“ Joel’s voice comes through my headphones in the form of a tease.

Sean mumbles quietly to himself as he’s deciding how to separate us in two teams. “Guys, a little help here. We all suck at this game, it doesn’t really matter who’s in which team.”

“Actually...“ Felix trails off, “Corpse and Y/N are the ultimate power couple in Among Us. Chances are they will be in this as well. So, the only logical move would be to...“

“I’m taking Y/N, you take Corpse.“ Sean declares. “Joel, Dave, who do you guys wanna be with?“

And the game starts. Sean, Joel and I are the Meowfia while Corpse, Felix and Dave are yet to choose a team name. We throw around snarky, cocky comments at each other, taunting the opposite team as we struggle to take the candy to our respective sides of the map.

“Don’t you dare pull that lever, Dave!“ I launch at Dave, knocking his cute avatar away from the lever, buying Joel and Sean some time to steal back the gummy bear Corpse and Felix took from us.

“Y/N! Joel is out! Help me!“ Sean is freaking out now. I ditch Dave’s unconscious body and run to Sean’s aid. 

As I’m helping him push it towards out area a member from the opposite team latches onto my avatar, weighing me down and hindering me from doing anything.

“Hug!“ Corpse laughs as he has literally turned into a koala, holding onto my avatar.

“Corpse, you know you are actually supposed to hinder Y/N, not hug her. It’s cute though, don’t get me wrong.“ Felix laughs as him and Sean continue to struggle over the gummy bear.

“Nah, his tactic’s great. I can’t do shit.“ I desperately try and shake him off, “Babe, this is unfair. I can’t even be mad at you!“ I whine, staring to panic now that Dave is back to life and Joel is nowhere to be seen.

The round is won by Felix, Dave and Corpse who, if I might add, didn’t let go of me for the rest of the game.

We switch maps, now every man for himself. We’re on the submarine, recreating the Hunger Games with cute fuzzy animals. The thought passes through my mind, causing me to giggle.

“Y/N, you sound exactly like I’d imagine your avatar to sound. You’re so cute.“ Sean’s avatar circles mine a few times as he laughs.

He’s not wrong, my pale blue puppy is indeed cute. Apparently immortal as well.

“How is Y/N still alive?! Holy shit, her and Corpse really are a power couple.“ Dave shrieks when he sees me pick up the freeze gun. “NOOO!“ He shouts, devastated by the fact I shot him, sending him straight to his death.

“Chill, Dave. It’s all cool. Nothing personal.“ I struggle to hide my laughter, “No hard feelings, right?“

“Of course not, love.“ I can tell he grits the sentence through clenched teeth.

“Aw Dave, you are such an ice guy.“ I giggle, now shooting Joel with the gun.

“Someone take that gun from her!“ Sean cries as him and Felix race up the submarine.

Suddenly, the avatar of my boyfriend again wraps itself around mine. I hadn’t seen him in a while, considering Sean knocked him into the ocean earlier in the round. 

“How are you still alive?!“ I try to spin my puppy to get him to let go but he holds on tightly. “Babe, I swear, you are cute and I love you, but this is ridiculous. How and why are you alive?”

“That’s his superpower! He never fucking dies.“ Felix laughs, letting out a yelp when he briefly slips while climbing.

“Immortals!!! Immortals!!!“ Sean breaks out into a song, a song I really like, breaking the restraints I had on my laughter.

“Drop the gun or we’re dying together.“ He says almost seriously. Even though I can only see the back of his head I know he’s grinning.

“A Titanic/Romeo and Juliet mashup? Why not? I can live with dying a double historical death.“ Even though I appear accepting of his offer, I’m still trying to set myself free.

In the end, Sean claims his first win of the game and the rest of us are dead at the bottom of the ocean. Corpse and I did indeed die a Romeo and Juliet/Titanic death, getting everyone in their feels. We make a deal to get together and play again as soon as possible and we all go our separate ways, exiting the Discord call.

*Later that night* 

After a dinner consisting of takeout and two thirds of a shitty romantic comedies, Corpse shifts from next to me, starting to get up from the couch. I am surprised to feel jolted out of a half sleep as the room is now completely silent, the TV being turned off.

“Hey where’re you going?“ I ask groggily, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

“I have some editing to do. Don’t worry, I won’t stay up too late.“ He kisses my forehead before grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Just as he’s about to walk away, I wrap my arms around his legs. He laughs, catching onto what I’m insinuating. His chuckle brings a smile to my face and butterflies in my belly. No matter how long we date for or how much time we spend together, some things never change. 

“Payback, huh?“ He asks, the smile audible in the question. I keep my eyes shut but nod, my arms still around his legs. “Alright, you koala. You’re coming with me.”

In his recording room, he settles in his chair placing me in his lap in a way that my legs dangling off to the side, my side leaning against his chest, my face hidden in the crook of his neck. We’re both comfortable, content and relaxed.

I don’t know when exactly it happens, but all my mind has registered is a quiet ‘I love you’ and the soft touch of Corpse’s lips on my temple. I manage to reply with an ‘I love you too’ before my sleepiness consumes me, my body completely relaxing against his, the warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his breathing making me feel safe and loved: the two feelings I want him to feel with the same intensity when I’m in his arms.

Something tells me he does.

@simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios  @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

[udonthreens]

top 5 disco elysium moments i have never played the game but ithink you should explain it like i know everything already anyways

anon uve triggered my autism beam

these r vaguely ranked but also i. i dont promise coherency and if i thought abt it with more brain theyd be different.

5) ok this is the last one im writing and idk. theres so many good scenes and moments and nevermind. the chair. the fucking CHAIR and evrart. it took me 200hrs to see what happens when u PASS the composure check like. tbh failing this check is basically canon. slide down it like a jello shot. again like the megarich container guy this is one of those possible early moments of 'ou this games a fucking weird comedy' and i just. best way to assert dominance with the corrupt commie boss like 'what a great display of... idek what that was' and im pretty sure u lose a rep point with kim if u fail it too like. kim dont be mad this is just my interogattion technique im not giving the rcm a bad rep i promise kim

actually some honourable mentions: lamby, boardgames with kim, joyce pale convo, kim voice dilligent boy, THE CHURCH I DIDNT MENTION THE CHURCH i love doin the dance after gettin shot its so funny. love the rave kids. shivers voice theres a hole in my heart. the fucking 'lookin to score some d girl!' bit with kim & acele thats comedy gold actually. thats brilliant. i might just start listening everything. pinball with kim when u pass it im just like. kim why dyou sound so smitten . the piss and fuck jackets. actually i really like the whole bit with the working class woman that was Devasting. even more so when i realised u could actually tell her ud look for her husband ...... i liked the jamais vu viscal pleasure wheel bit after (i think that was added with the update? yes it was) altho i dont remember specifics just. his brain reconstructin smth as idk.. smth to make him feel better? felt bittersweet. i should go see that scene again.

ok ill fuckin wrap this up. 'are u... a really good detective?' great line and not a moment per say but. the fact that jean just. hangs around the whirling for several days in that fuckin wig like, obvs he doesnt move spots bcs its a video game (despite the edc lines showin that he does do other shit) cuz u need to know where to find him. but he just fuckin commits like. the character building from all this shit for whats technically a minor character. brilliant. doesnt HE have a fuckin job to do. also titus is always in the whirling for the same video game reason so like. yes. yes to that rarepair.

3) communist book club and the tower building that was soooooo cool not to mention the fuckin hilarity of readin bout inframaterialism for the first time nd going "???? is this pseudoscience in the game or can it ACTUALLY fucking happen like wtf"

2) karoke. pass over fail tbh limbic system KILLS it (and its more lyrical spoken word doesnt fit the song nd also i thot id actually hear harrys voice during that scene and we kinda did but like thats a different tangent) and kims support 'detective du bois... it was down right tragic' and the edc or concept check? concept i 5hink that was like 'to him that represented being an rcm member perfectly' like HELLO??? kim bestie its not 2 late for a career change. AND not to mention gartes reaction to it like... u really get the feeling that he Will get rid of the machine if harry fucks it up. however i do like the pass as well bcs a) harrys had enough cringe fail b) jeans deadbeat litany of 'yeah its shit it sucked awful' like. thats how he talks 2 harry when hes being NICE its so funny. het life partners <33

4) mega rich light bending guy. AGAIN the weiss thingymay coefficent where ur like 'is this an actual Thing or is harry just fuckin insane' nd also i crit succeeded on my first playthru real early on when i hadnt seen any of the wacky shit yet nd it just. the -2 if u have the artcop thought the fuckin ultralib shit . u get like 4 ultralib points at LEAST if u pass/fail the right concept check. god not to mention kim earnestly suggesting rcm reforms like kim bestie kim kim my bestfriend kim its not 2 late for a career change. also if u get the 100 real and kims like 'ur full of surprises most of them bad but some of them good' soooo true <33

1) salami man.

[kingreywrites]

The Smolder Tragedy

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 3314

Summary: A very concussed and very out of it Eugene Fitzherbert comes to a devastating conclusion about his smolder. His kidnappers are not all that sympathetic about it.

Note: that title is so corny god asgfdgh anyway, this is a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, but there’s quite a bit of hurt!! So be warned that there is talk of a concussion, some violence (because he’s kidnapped), and also a mention of spiked water (he’s mostly fine though but I’d rather be safe)

Read on ao3

Now that he was thinking about it, Eugene realised that the smolder never... truly worked on anyone. Well, when he was younger, adults tended to go easier on him if he made a somewhat cute face at them, and in the following years, doing it never hurt his chances with the people who were already attracted to him. But neither of these facts actually attested of the efficiency of the smolder in itself, and if Rapunzel was left particularly unimpressed, Eugene wasn't sure anyone had ever really swooned because of it.

Oh, the demon Rapunzel from the weird mirror dimension did swoon that one time. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?

"The hell are you talking about?" someone growled, entering the room loudly and making Eugene's headache worse, if that was even possible.

That guy was one of the reasons Eugene was thinking about his smolder's actual abilities - or lack thereof. Because see, if the smolder worked, which he was now doubting, he could simply use it on this guy, and that would make him swoon, and Eugene would use the distraction to get free from the chair he was tied on, and get out of here quickly. But Eugene didn't think the smolder would work. Not because Mr Beetle here (lovingly named after the bug which landed on his head during Eugene's kidnapping - he'll get to that part later) was immune to his charms, but because maybe... perhaps... the smolder had never been effective?

This was devastating news. Truth really was the heaviest burden a man could bear.

Beetle grabbed his hair and pulled his head back roughly, making Eugene see stars and forget, for a moment, the whole smolder dilemma. But then he was being yelled at things he could barely understand between the buzzing in his ears and the concussion he got earlier - without forgetting the stuff they made him drink that made his head all fuzzy and his thoughts completely muddled - and he couldn't help but wonder if he could smolder his way out of here. That'd be nice. It had been what, four days since they got their hands on him? Five? Eugene was bored now.

"If-," he coughed, feeling like the hoarse voice he could hear wasn't his own, "if I tried to seduce you, would you break my nose?"

Going by the way his head was slammed back again, Eugene took it as a yes. That was a shame, truly. He knew that his life was different today, that he had changed for the better and was now the Captain of Corona's Guard, so really, he didn't need the smolder - but he loved that silly little trick. It felt like discovering that Santa wasn't real all over again. Not that he ever believed in Santa, since the matrons didn't see fit to talk about that particular tradition when everyone knew that orphans wouldn't get Christmas gifts, but that's what Eugene thought it must feel like.

His head hurt a lot.

A big hand tipped his chin up, since he had been looking at his pants and the stains on them (would he be able to get the blood out?), and he realised that Beetle was trying to make him drink that weird stuff again. The one that made his head feel like it was floating above his shoulders, and made him feel warm in the most disgustingly sweaty way. Eugene hated it. So he kept his lips as tightly closed as he could, and trashed in the chair to make it more difficult on that goon.

This was becoming ridiculous. The fact that he even got kidnapped already hurt enough as it was - they got the best of him after a very exhausting day, and pointed a crossbow at his heart before hitting him so hard over the head he was pretty sure he stayed unconscious for a few hours straight... which Rapunzel would probably think was pretty concerning. For his part, he was more annoyed about the constant headache than anything. Mostly, he couldn't believe he got kidnapped.

He didn't even remember if anyone had seen him, and hoped no one had gotten hurt during the whole ordeal. In any case, he was pretty embarrassed and, to add insult to injury, they didn't even care about him. He was Captain of the Guard for god's sake, you'd think that would make him interesting enough, but no, they only wanted him to pressure the royal family.

Being used as leverage sucked. Thinking that they might hurt the people he loved by using him made him feel sick, even more than their weird drugged water did.

"If you keep being difficult you're gonna regret it," Beetle threatened, and Eugene would have told him that he was the one who would regret stuff soon, if he hadn't been also preoccupied with keeping his mouth shut. Which, ironically, was something people had asked of him a lot in his life, and that he had always refused to do - until someone tried to force him to keep it open. He never did like authority, after all. The matrons would always tell him that he was a troublemaker of the worst kind, and that someday, life would get back at him for the chaos he created. They were yet to be proved right about that one but-

Beetle punched him in the gut, making Eugene gasp and cough in pain, before his nose was pinched and he was forced to swallow the water, nearly choking on it.

"Rude," he noted weakly when it was over, his throat on fire as he heaved. Already, he could feel the fuzziness coming back with a vengeance, his vision blurring at the edges because of whatever mysterious compound they forced him to drink. He'd have to ask Varian about it. The kid would know, certainly, or would at least be excited to research it, and it was fun when Varian was excited. He still had that weird maniacal villain vibe mixed with his genuine and adorable love for sciency things, and that was an interesting combination to see in action.

The door to Eugene's cell was slammed shut and, in the dim light, he understood that he was alone once again. Beetle didn't even say goodbye. It was okay, though, because Eugene didn't think he could have answered without puking - the entire world was swimming in front of his eyes. Closing them only made everything even more unsteady, and now Eugene wondered if he could even try to do a good smolder in that state. He couldn’t feel his face.

His eyes were heavy, and it didn't take long before he passed out again.

------

Next time Eugene woke up, it was to the sound of yelling outside the door of his cell, loud and definitely not the kind of voices he wanted to hear. Maybe it was stupid, but each time he opened his eyes, he hoped to find Rapunzel here, ready to rescue him, but it hadn't happened… yet.

Trying to raise his head only awakened the ache in his neck and back from the terrible position he was in - he hated sleeping on chairs. Being homeless for a good part of his life had taught him that the bare ground was always preferable, but he didn't think he could argue about his sleeping conditions with his kidnappers. He pulled on the rope that was keeping his hands tied behind his back, and noticed that it was giving a little. If he could just-

"Your plan better work!" someone yelled, startling him - but it was still coming from behind the door. "You don't realise what we're risking with this!"

"Of course it'll work! Do you really think that the son-in-law of the King and the husband of the Princess is worthless? They're gonna listen to us because they'll want him back."

That was… touching, in a strange way. Not that Eugene enjoyed being taken for ransom, or whatever it was they wanted to do, but it did remind him that he had a family, and that they would fight to get him back. Rapunzel was probably worried out of her mind, right now, and this was enough to spur him into action again, because he didn't want to simply wait here for rescue like an idiot.

"What if they attack us?" the scared guy yelled again, as Eugene pulled on his bounds again, ignoring the sharp sting of the rope cutting into his skin, and his ever-present nausea. "What if- what if instead of paying, the guards find us and destroy our base?"

In Eugene's opinion, the guards weren't really the threat here - this guy didn't want to know what Rapunzel would do to him if she found them. The thought was enough to make him chuckle, which in turn made him realise that the weird water might still be having an effect on him, because he hadn't managed to keep himself quiet. Not great.

His fingers fumbled with the knot he could feel, trying to get it to loosen even more. Unfortunately, the door of his cell -more like a closet than a cell to be honest- was thrown open, and he had to act as innocent as possible.

Going by the glare he received, he was doing a poor job of it.

The new guy (he'd call him Martin, because he had a Martin face) seemed to enjoy kicking him around a bit more. The only silver lining was that he seemed intent on kicking his ribs, and consequently left his poor head alone. Still not the best, but Eugene would take it. He didn't have much choice anyway, since Martin decided to greet him with his fists today.

"Feeling better yet?" Eugene breathed when he thought it was over. He earned another kick for the trouble.

"You better hope they pay what we ask of them," Martin snarled, way too close for Eugene's comfort. "Because I can't say that I won't enjoy killing you if it comes to that."

"Aww, I'm touched, truly," was all Eugene could say, before a hand ended up around his throat, and he couldn't talk anymore. He vaguely heard Martin threatening him again, but honestly, the guy should realise that it was difficult to be afraid of him when Eugene was barely conscious enough to understand him.

It went down the same way as it always did, these days. Eugene was forced to drink that damned drugged water -it was getting more disgusting each time-, and he couldn't breathe, and the Martin guy said something about hurting Rapunzel, and if you think you're gonna be able to touch her you've got another thing coming you assho-

And Eugene lost consciousness. Again.

------

When he woke up again, Eugene couldn’t breathe. The world was loud, too loud, his vision was swimming and the room spinning under him, and he couldn't- it was as if his breaths were getting stuck in his ribcage, and was he still being choked, what-

"Hey, Eugene, it's okay, look at me-"

Dragging in air painfully, he opened his eyes to a slit, meeting the frantic and oh so green ones of- Rapunzel?

"Come on, it's okay, breathe with me," she said, voice low, and he listened to her - how could he not? For a moment, when it felt like he was still dangerously tethering on the edge of choking, he wondered if she was even real, or if it was all a dream conjured by the lack of oxygen. Then, she brushed his hair back, her palm warm and tangible on his cheek, and it felt real enough that he melted into it.

"That's it," she encouraged him gently, one hand resting lightly on his heaving chest. "That's it, breathe. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

He couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle at that, but going by the pinch of her eyebrows, that wasn't the right reaction. After a few seconds, when he finally felt like his lungs weren't about to explode, he tried to smile at her. It only seemed to worry her more.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tracing what he knew were dark bruises on his skin. She went higher, to his hair, and touched something that immediately made him flinch.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" she exclaimed quickly, pushing his hair away again. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

His perceptions were still blurred, as if he was underwater, but he could hear now the sounds of fighting and chaos coming from behind the door. Rescue. He was being rescued - Rapunzel was rescuing him. He knew she would do it.

"Well, I wish I had been a little quicker," Rapunzel said, her voice wobbly.

"You're just in time Sunshine," he whispered, his throat raw.

"Am I?"

He didn't like the self-deprecation in her tone, nor the worry that didn't seem able to leave her features, and he felt guilty for being the cause of it. If he hadn't been kidnapped-

"Eugene? Eugene, stay with me," Rapunzel asked, with an urgency that made him realise he had closed his eyes. Huh. He was dizzy. "I know, I'm sorry, just- I'm gonna free you, okay?"

He blinked, trying to look at her so she would stop sounding so… scared. She was fumbling with the ropes holding his left hand in place. There was the sound of an explosion outside, right as she got rid of the first one, and she threw an indecipherable look at the door.

He wanted… He wanted her to stop looking so sad. He didn't like it when she was sad. Could he do something about it? Well-

"The smolder doesn't work," he mumbled dejectedly. Rapunzel was taking care of his bound legs now, though he didn't remember her freeing his right hand. He moved it slowly, feeling as if the limb wasn't his own, and wondered how much the weird water was still affecting him.

"Weird water?" Rapunzel repeated. He wasn't sure how to not voice all his thoughts aloud, apparently, which he's sure his dad would find amusing.

Since Rapunzel was still looking at him, Eugene took a few seconds to remember her question and simply hummed, head swimming. That seemed to make her even more unhappy, and he could get disliking the water, but he didn't like when Rapunzel was unhappy. "Do you... think the smolder ever, uh... worked?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I'm sure it did," she answered, in the same gentle tone she used on people she disagreed with.

"It- it never worked on you, though. And it wouldn't have worked on Beetle, or- or- Martin," he pressed. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and now his feet were free but he really didn't have the energy to try and get up. He didn't want to puke on Rapunzel, too.

She didn't reply. Instead, she looped one of his arms around her neck, and braced her hand against his ribs. He winced, and she apologised quietly, but before he could try to argue that he didn't think he could do it, she made him stand up swiftly, grip tightening around him when his knees inevitably buckled. He closed his eyes tightly, ears ringing painfully and stomach churning, and he was grateful that he could count on Rapunzel to not let him fall on his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she kept repeating, adjusting his weight to stop him from sliding down further. "I know it's hard, but I'll get you to safety, I promise, just hang on-"

Eugene could guess that he really didn't look great if she was that desperate to comfort him. To be fair, he didn't feel great either. He could barely follow her words, couldn't stand up on his own, and had to focus all his energy into not being sick as Rapunzel helped him walk. It clearly wasn't his best day.

He tried to regain his footing, so she didn't have to drag him with her, but his legs were shaky and he nearly fell again. He thought Rapunzel was going to toss him over her shoulder and run, which he knew she could do, and he also knew his body wouldn't appreciate as much as usual given his current dizziness, but that was exactly the moment Maximus arrived to the rescue. Or maybe they arrived to Maximus? There were more people around them, more noises and voices too, and Eugene couldn’t follow anything of what was happening. He thought he heard Lance, and felt another hand holding him up, but all he could focus on was Rapunzel being here, and Rapunzel talking to him, and calling his name, his one beacon of light when the pain in his head grew to be too much to bear.

He felt her hand in his, and realised that he had been laid down somewhere. He wanted to reassure her, but couldn’t do much more but feebly squeeze her fingers, hoping she would understand. And then, because he was tired and in pain, and because he knew that, now that she was here, he was going to be okay, Eugene passed out.

------

“You are evil,” Eugene moaned, hiding his face under his pillow while Rapunzel laughed innocently.

"What, I'm trying to help!" she smiled, coming to sit next to him on the bed. He felt the mattress dip under her weight, and took a peek at her, groaning again when he saw how smug she seemed. "I even made flyers and everything!"

She didn't seem to care about the annoyed look he threw her way, instead putting a bunch of papers in his hands. On it, his face, lips pursued and eyebrows raised, with the text asking the people of Corona to come test his “infamous smolder” by themselves. At this moment, Eugene would have preferred to have his old wanted posters thrown in his face - it would be way less embarrassing than… this.

“Come on Eugene, what better way to know for certain than to experiment? You seemed really bummed out about your smolder!”

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he grumbled. “You can’t hold me accountable for my concussed ramblings!”

Her expression softened at that, and her hand came to caress his cheek, gently trailing up to the bandages still around his wound. Her touch was soft enough to not sting, and he couldn’t keep up his facade of annoyance when it was so obvious she simply wanted to make him laugh.

“I love you, you know?” he breathed, and she had a second to look pleasantly surprised before she leant down and kissed him.

“I love you too, Eugene,” she smiled fondly.

“You’re the only person I care to seduce anyway,” he laughed. “I guess I’ll have to live with the smolder being ineffective.”

“If that helps,” she murmured, climbing fully on the bed to lie down next to him, “I feel pretty seduced by you already.”

“Ah yeah?” he grinned. “Well, I’m pretty seduced by you too, Sunshine. You’re my hero after all,” he said, and though he had intended it as a joke, his tone was too earnest to be mistaken as anything but the truth. He could still see glimpses of guilt in Rapunzel’s expression, when he knew she had done everything in her power to find him as quickly as she could - he’d repeat it as much as she needed to finally see it too.

Rapunzel watched him, before cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together once again. He knew he would need to rest again soon, and that his constant headache would probably spike if he didn’t, but for now, he kissed her back, and it felt like everything was alright again. Because it was, in all the ways that mattered.

She saved him, and they were together - he wouldn’t ask for anything more.

[kyo-moon]

note from author: i don't think it isn't that good, but enjoy it anyway. please remember that english isn't my first language (っ◞‸◟c). if there's any misspelled word, let me know please!

fandom: ikemen vampire

pairing(s): arthur/reader

character(s): arthur conan doyle (ikevamp), MC (ikevamp)

warning(s): mayor character death

genre: angst

inspired by the song: death bed - powfu, beabadoobee

note: if you haven't listened to this song i suggest you to click the link i left in the name's song itself. this way, you'll understand better this fic and the lyrics i will be adding in the dialogues or loose between paragraphs. they may be a little different from the song itself but that way it would suits with the part i put them.

"don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed".

arthur where laying next to MC, who has been in bed for weeks, she doesn't seem to be progressing or getting any better. it was actually the opposite. she didn't seem to be better, she was getting worse and worse within the days has been passing away.

arthur wanted her to rest because she needed to, but he didn't want to let her go in other way. what if she went to sleep and never came back? he wanted her to live with him. like they promised to do.

"i'll make a cup of coffee for your head".

all the time she had told him the very same phrase and now... now he was the one who has to get up and get a cup of coffee for her. she used to kiss his forehead every time she saw him late at night writing, with the brightest smile in her face. she was too good for this world, he knew it since the day she arrived and yet... once again he couldn't save her.

she was leaving him, in a slow and painful way. she didn't leave him overnight. no, she was leaving him evey day that passed. he knew that life was unfair but this was way more painful than before. after all, she was special.

tic.

every second of her time was leaving her body.

toc.

and he couldn't do nothing about it.

tic.

he was, once again, watching someone he cared leaving.

toc.

why was always him the one that has to watch the time pass away? he thought. every day. every hour. every minute. every second. "why me?"

"i'll get you up and going out of bed".

ha. he wished he could do such a thing like that. he was nothing more than a mere spectator watching the love of his life dying in front of him. she smiled for him meanwhile he was crying for her.

he didn't wanted her to go, not now when she had decided to spend her life by his side. but it was a long life that they promised to spend together. not this, it was not enough. she was sick, she had a terminal illness. among all the people it had to be her.

her daily sunshine was turning off her lights.

he would be in the dark in no time. again. he would be alone, sitting in the dark with a drink in his hands again. and after all this, after her and her lovely way to makes things better for him, her way to make him smile and laugh with no effort at all. he would be devastated by her leaving when the time comes.

and there were times when she talked about the future and about her fate, but she was too calm while doing it. arthur couldn't understand why she was so relaxed.

"when i leave this earth, i'm hoping you'll find someone else" she said looking at him, but was she seeing him? or was she looking at the arthur after her leaving? "i been thinking of our future 'cause i'll never see those days". arthur froze, what was she saying in a moment like this? why now? but she kept talking after a brief silence, "i don't know why this happened. i tried my best, but you know that i'm not perfect".

arthur didn't keep listening to what she was saying, he didn't want to. he just took her hands in his and kissed the top of them. "i'm happy that you're here with me, i'm sorry if i tear up". arthur smiled after saying that. his heart broke a little more at the same time. then he continued, "when me and i first met, you would always make me cheer up".

she laughed then said "and sneak out through the kitchen at exactly 1:03". he thought she was so beautiful while laughing and smiling, with those warm eyes, that bright smile of hers, her tiny hands and her soft skin. the sound of her voice wss enough to get the best of him.

she sighed, "soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me", she stroked his hair with her delicate touch and deposited a kiss in his lips. "this is not your fault, things just turned out this way".

"yeah... i'll make a cup of coffee for you, wait here". arthur smiled, or at the very least he tried to smile before standing up heading to the kitchen. he didn't wanted to leave but he needed some time alone thinking about all the things happening around him, those things that don't let him sleep at night. when she was sleeping he stayed by her side all night, writing stories for her. she liked listening to his stories before going to sleep. "it's music for my ears" she answered his question about why she liked it that much.

meanwhile he was preparing the coffee, upstairs were theo and MC talking about something that no one in the mansion wanted to hear. theo was having a hard time too, after all he got closer to the traveler girl, they were friends without realizing it.

"arthur is worse than ever, right?" she asked him, resting her head in the pillow. there was no answer. she laughed softly, "i thought so". she raised her hand and looked at it, looking for something that she knew that she couldn't have.

time.

she wanted more time. but there wasn't more time.

and she knew it.

"theo"

he waited before opening his mouth.

"...yes?"

she was still looking at her hand up in the air. "do me a favor. take care of arthur from now on for me, please?"

he knew what she meant by that. he frowned and looked away.

"you bet i will, i'm his friend".

her time has finally arrived.

she smiled and a tear ran down her cheek, "thank you... and tell him i'm sorry and that i love him so much too, could you?"

"...yes"

she was sleepy and her body felt heavy, but she never stopped thinking about arthur till her very last breathe in this world. "yeah, i don't wanna fall asleep, i don't wanna pass away". her eyes started closing, "i been praying for forgiveness... you've been praying for my health", she smiled. "because we're still young, there's much we haven't done. getting married, start a family... watch your husband with his son".

theo watched her from the door. he didn't know if it was better if arthur wasn't there or not right now, but that wasn't going to change the fact she was passing away.

with her last strength she though a last time of her dear arthur. "i wish it could be me, but i won't make it out this bed. i hope i go to heaven so i see you once again... my life was kinda short, but i got so many blessings". her eyes finally closed. "happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending...".

she was gone.

arthur was walking up the stairs coming back from the kitchen with the coffee in his hands. he was walking looking at the floor till he arrived to her room. he looked up to see theo standing outside her door, waiting for him before giving him that look. the world seemed to stop for arthur when he realized.

smash.

the coffee was now scattered across the corridor floor, little pieces of pottery too. this strong sound was noticed from the others residents of the mansion. but arthur was already inside her room holding her cold hand with his forehead against hers, wishing for more time to spend with her. tears running down his cheeks.

"please no, you're my sunshine, my only sunshine..." he sobbed, searching for some air he could breathe between his cry. "you make me happy when skies are gray, please stay". arthur kissed her cold cheek. "you'll never know dear, how much i love you...". theo felt pain watching him from the doors, just like the others residents just arrived. "please don't take my sunshine away... please".

fin.

[oneweekoneband]

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages.  (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time. 

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. 

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift,  she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

[doctorcanon]

The Final Days of Ryoko Shinonome (Modern AU Idea)

Just something that randomly came to me. A modern AU with the Older pilots in mind. It would take place in Okinawa during the closure of several Army Bases (that have reopened since) in 2007 when Bush was in office and leaving several Japanese and American servicemen who fought in the Middle East at the height of the conflict without any VA benefits, unable to join the Japanese Defense Force and many with debilitating injuries, specifically loss of eye sight. Will handle subjects such as: Terminal Illness, Narcissistic Parental abuse, PTSD, Infidelity and Death = like lots of discussion about death.

Ryoko Shinonome: A 35 year old civil engineer who has been diagnosed with metastatic brain cancer. Despite battling it for a number of years, she now has a very limited time to live. Suffering from cognitive impairment and Vascular Dementia, she needs constant round the clock care. Her adopted brother Ei moved in with her after her fiance Tetsuya suddenly called off the wedding shortly after her diagnosis. However, she often forgets and Ei has to break her heart all over again. On the days she’s aware of her condition, she’s started getting her affairs in order and is currently working with Renya Gouto to arrange her own funeral and cremation. 

Ei Sekigahara: Ryoko’s younger brother, though they aren’t related by blood. Her primary caretaker due to the fact that he’s recently been released from military service and doesn’t have a 9 to 5 job. The stress of Ryoko’s care and his own personal demons have really done a number on his mental health. He ends up having to hire a hospice nurse who encourages him to attend a support group for veterans. Can and will kill Tetsuya Ida on sight. 

Iori Fuyusaka: Ei Sekigahara’s girlfriend and Tsukasa Okino’s Younger sister, a beloved elementary school teacher and all around ray of sunshine. She and Ryoko didn’t really get along in the first place but the latter got violent with her during one of her episodes. She truly does want to help, but only seems to be making the situation worse. Something her mother Chihiro says she’s quite good at.

Keitaro Mirua: A Routine Care hospice nurse hired by Ei Sekigahara for Ryoko, also a former soldier. Honestly, the man is a goddamn saint; he’s sweet, kind and maybe even a little shy. He’s been through a lot after he was injured in the field. Now that he has control over his life, he wants to help others. He attends a support group for former combat veterans and encourages Ei to attend as well. Trying to find the perfect ring to propose to his girlfriend.

Takatoshi Hijiyama: Miura’s closest friend and Tsukasa Okino’s husband. Also attends the same support group. Really, really struggling to adjust to civilian life, even more so after realizing that his injuries are more severe than originally thought. He has, however, discovered a great love of cooking through his physical therapy and enjoys taking care of his often workaholic husband, sometimes too much if you ask Tsukasa.

Tsukasa Okino: Former coworker and friend of Ryoko Shinonome and very talented Biomedical Engineer. Tends to get really lost in his work and hasn’t heard from Ryoko in a long time and is shocked to hear that her condition is terminal. This puts a lot into perspective not just with his husband but with his family. He decides to reach out to his estranged sister Iori. Unfortunately, Iori wants to bring their mother into it.

Yuki Takamiya: A physical therapist who once treated Shinonome and became pretty close with her and Ei. Occasionally comes by to drop off meals and see how Sekigahara is doing. Sometimes she invites him to the kickboxing gym to get him out of the house, she thinks that the support group is a good idea. After all, therapy helped her a great deal after her husband passed away.

Shu Amiguchi: Met Yuki Takamiya while visiting Ryoko, his former coworker, at the hospital and hasn’t left her alone since. A fellow engineer, he’s much smarter than he lets on. He works pretty closely with Okino too. He was actually really close to Ryoko since she dated his brother Tetsuya. Ei doesn’t really like him, but his weekly visits make Ryoko happy so they don’t talk that much. He believes that Tetsuya broke up with her because of her condition and that was the last straw and he stopped speaking to him.

Natusno Minami: Miura’s girlfriend, Iori’s coworker and Yuki Takamiya’s little sister. The absolute life of the party and a joy to be around. She’s the reason Keitaro Miura is still alive. Knows Ei more through the kickboxing gym and hasn’t really made the connection that Keitaro’s newest patient is Ei’s sickly sister that he keeps mentioning. She and Miura have been dating for almost six years now and she’s really starting to wonder if they are ready to spend their lives together.

Tomi Kisaragi: The elementary music teacher at the same school as Natsuno and Iori and a voice teacher outside of those work hours. The sounding board for a lot of relationship issues despite the fact that she’s not that helpful. She and Tsukasa Okino are old friends from high school. She’s the one who convinced him to help Megumi get a job at Shikishima as an engineer. May or may not have a history with Tetsuya Ida. She doesn’t like to talk about it.

Nenji Ogata: Tomi’s Not-boyfriend and a supervisor at Shikishima’s sales branch is often used as a liaison with the R&D department. Since he was desperate to make a name for himself outside of his family name, Nenji has an...interesting past. After falling on some hard times, his father, a former executive of Shikishima, gave him a job. Needless to say, his department doesn’t like him and he takes on a lot of extra work and stresses himself out. A frequent visitor to the kickboxing gym so he knows Takamiya, Minami, Hijiyama and Sekigahara pretty well. 

Juro Kurabe: Once known as Juro Izumi. An old friend of Ei Sekigahara who suffered a TBI in the field and is basically a different person. Underwent cognitive therapy alongside several other patients including Ryoko Shinonome. He and Ryoko are close friends and he’s just devastated about her diagnosis. Another person who will assassinate Tetsuya Ida on sight. Works with Yuki Takamiya quite a bit but is having a lot of trouble with mobility. 

Megumi Yakushiji: She really looks perfect on the outside. She’s great at her job, a great cook and a near perfect caretaker to her husband Juro. However, appearances can be deceiving. The man she married and the man she’s taking care of are two different people. But her love for Juro might not be enough to get her through their hardest day, sometimes he doesn’t even remember her. There’s only one person who sees the cracks in her facade, not her best friend Tomi or her coworker Tsukasa but Tsukasa’s husband Takatoshi who keeps asking her for recipes. 

Renya Gouto: An Undertaker at Ashitaba City’s Death Services and Mortuary. He knew Ei and Ryoko in high school but now is making arrangements for Ryoko’s cremation and general funeral services. Out of everything he’s done, he’s never spoken to someone who wants to arrange their own funeral and is the only other person who knows that Ryoko is arranging her own funeral without Ei knowing. He’s a close friend of Dr. Morimura therefore he’s familiar with Iori and Tsukasa. That’s not a good thing.

Chihiro Morimura: Dr. Chihiro Morimura is a retired oncologist who is trying to repair her relationship with her kids Iori and Tsukasa. Unfortunately, she sucks at it. While she can help Iori with her situation with Ei and his sister, she and Tsukasa will probably never get along. Who would have thought that years of narcissistic abuse would affect their relationship?

Tetsuya Ida: Ryoko’s ex-fiancee. Broke up with Ryoko after she was diagnosed with brain cancer. Has no idea about her severe condition but wouldn’t be surprised. He still works at Shikishima but not in the engineering department. Refuses to talk about her and is quite aware that several people are out for his head. He doesn’t care.

Miwako Sawatari: A kindergarten teacher who’s a bit of a gossip but really does it out of love. She knows a little bit about everyone. She works at Iori and Natsuno’s school, is a close friend of Nenji, she’s one of Yuki’s patients, and volunteers at Ashitaba Death Services. What I’m saying is, she’s the only person who knows exactly what’s happening.

[hextiger]

More Research Excerpts

This time it's Der Alptraum in Beziehung zu gewissen Formen mittelalterlichen Aberglaubens. (English: The Nightmare in Relation to Certain Forms of Medieval Superstition).

You can find the PDF here via Project Gutenberg, but it's in German.

For context though: this appeared in 1902 in a magazine published by Sigmund Freud. That fact is very much apparent throughout.

Introduction

"My focus is not on the historical side but the deepest psychological meaning" phrases that clue you in that there's a lot of nonsense coming

Nowadays the word "Weib" really just reads as "woman (derogatory)"

Dream and Belief

"the breath soul and the shadow soul" I'm sorry what. What! Shadow soul?????

"Freud's discovery of psychoanalysis" I don't know that I'd call it a discovery rather than "wholesale invention" or maybe "ass-pull" but sure

You can at times REALLY tell this is influenced by Freud. Example: "The more people have a certain type of dream the more likely it is that its' subliminal content is of a sexual nature" good (?) news for all the people who dream about their teeth falling out

Something something dreaming of your dead mother or father something something oedipus complex repressed in childhood

You can really tell this was written in the early 20th century. Take me back to the 18th/19th century weirdness please

"In a court in 1516 the jury of Trojes admonished the caterpillars who had devastated some distracts on punishment of curse and excommunication to leave within a certain number of days" I have SO MANY questions

The source for the above is "Cesaresco. Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs, P. 183" which I now have to read

Nightmares

"It is generally known that nightmares have a greater influence on the fantasy of waking life than any other dream" my dude you JUST went on for a whole chapter abt sex dreams so like are you sure

"I have added that the repression of female masochistic sexual urges is more suited to the creation of the typical nightmare than that of the male one, a view that Adler agrees with" I just wanna read abt weird hairy creatures sitting on people's chests, not this nonsense

Ok HERE'S something interesting. Dude's talking about how nightmares express deeply repressed wishes like yes. This I can vibe with

"Digestive problems do not explain the appearance of beautiful women from keyholes" sure but if that were a thing I'd sure as hell take the digestive problems

Incubus and Incubation

"In the middle ages the belief was generally that there were evil spirits whose sole function was to have [...] intercourse with sleeping people" HE JUST SAYS THIS. WITHOUT A SOURCE

"A favorite form that incubi took was that of clergy. Hieronmyus reports the story of a young lady who called for help against an incubus which her friends found under their beds in the form of the bishop Sylvanus. The reputation of the bishop would have suffered if he had been unable to convince them that the incubus had taken his form"

People at the time reacted by saying "Oh an excellent example for the wizardry of Sylvanus" so I don't think this bishop was believed

Anyway I WISH that had been an incubus but it really sounds like it was just a creepy old dude

Sir why do you keep randomly throwing untranslated French quotes in this German text

Oh hey another mention of people who were supposedly children of incubi. This time it's Alexander the Great, Caesar, Martin Luther, Plato, all of the Huns and everyone who lived on Cyprus

You're right, it would be unnecessary to linger on how snakes are phallic symbols thank you for not doing that

"The belief that the soul leaves the sleeper in the form of a snake which escapes through the mouth" UM HOLD ON

I checked the source and yeah, that sure is a thing

This one's from Thorpe. Northern Mythology, 1851, Vol I. P. 289f https://archive.org/details/northernmytholog01thoruoft/page/n309/mode/2up

The Vampire

"The wish for reunion, which has its origin in the living person, is here partially projected on the dead" FINALLY some good content

"Widows can get pregnant by their vampiric husbands visiting" uhuh sure

"After the transformation into a vampire is complete it can be discovered by finding the unburied body with red cheeks, tightskin, full blood vessels, warm blood, grown hair and nails and open left eye"

May have found another source on alps here. Features slut-shaming of sphinxes as far as I can tell

"The Wallachian myth wherein dead redheaded men appear in the form of frogs, bugs etc. and drink the blood of pretty girls"

So depending on which church you were a part of before committing heresy you'd either become a werewolf (roman-catholic) or a vampire (greek)

"Like the vampire the Alp can be the soul of a dead person and suck the blood of sleeping people" whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhy do I only read this now

The Werwolf

Apollo's apparently associated with wolves, which I did not know

Oh yeah I forgot about the part of werewolf lore that's like "Yeah they turn their human skin inside-out cause the other side is a wolf pelt"

If you're born on christmas day you're apparently destined to become a werewolf as punishment for your parent daring to deliver on the same day as Mary

"The seventh son is destined to become a werewolf, the seventh daughter a mare" mmmmmmmmm there's Something here I may be able to use

Quick gallows, wow what's that? Oh. Oh it's a gallows where the person has their hands bound behind their back, is pulled up by their bound hands on a pulley and then dropped from great height??????? That's uh. That doesn't sound like a good experience

Armenian werewolves are women who sinned and were thus punished by having to live for seven years as a werewolf.

There's also a creature that's somewhat between werewolf and vampire which, apparently sucks blood from the soles of the feet of people walking by

Very rough translation but "One has to burn the werewolf because otherwise he will rise from his grave a few days later. In ravenous hunger he will eat the flesh from his own hands and feet and when he has nothing else on his body to consume he will burrow out from his grave at midnight, fall into the herds and steal the animals or even go into houses, lay down by the sleeping and suck their blood from them" this is good, actually

I cannot stress enough how openly freudian this thing is

Werewolves can apparently also leave behind their bodies and wander about at night

Devilworship

"Belief in devils can be traced back to an oedipus complex" ok. sure

Apparently the devil used to be a close parallel to jesus. The whole deal: twelve apostles, went to hell and was reborn, hot bod

The devil had his own bible which was written down in Bohemia and is now in a library in Stockholm k so who's down for a trip to Stockholm after [waves hands] all this is done

"One of the later bynames of the devil was Grendel (english Grant)"

The devil is canonically bisexual and bigender

He can only impregnate folks if he previously acts as a succubus

....Merlin was a son of the devil? He was born because the devil was imitating God? His purpose was to defeat Jesus? Is this what Fate Grand Order is about

"if a woman sleeps alone the devil sleeps with her" well good for her

The devil has a second face on his butt that looks like a beautiful woman's face. He sits the wrong way around in chairs. His genitals are on his back

The Witch Epidemic

Witches like to eat babies, especially unbaptized ones

Witches apparently sometimes turned men into horses to ride to sabbath??? rad

Or they rode the devil himself in form of a horse or goat. sure

Why would witches have stigmata. I want to know, but not enough to check the source that's cited for this

The roman-catholic church is at fault for witchcraft

Apparently 40 year old witches turn into Drude which are also similar to alps

In Conclusion

This entire thing was a trip but I cannot recommend reading it or a translation. It's far too Freudian for my tastes. At least there's a little bit here that I can use for A Pale Imitation and its potential sequels.

[katcadecascade]

Road to Home (RWBY fic)

Summery: Rhodes reaches the Glass Unicorn at 11:40pm because someone asked him, “So who’s at home for you?”

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Volume 8 Chapter 6

aka my take on Cinder’s backstory AU

-

“So who’s back home for you?”

Rhodes kind of hates his name. It’s almost like cruel irony or a bland destiny to always be traveling, constantly on the move, and never staying too long in one place.

“No one. I don’t really have a place to return too.”

He believed that’s just how his life is as a hunter of Grimm. It feels like he’s always taking one mission after the next, a pattern that takes him across the kingdoms. All alone, it’s easier that way, efficient Rhodes believes.

It’s a cold truth he concluded on after his team parted. Talk about a crossroads.

“Hmm.”

Yet every once in a while there’s a hunt that demands many hunters. An abnormally large nest of Nevermores in Vale. If he had the option, Rhodes wouldn’t have joined. The path he wanted to take is the one that’ll take him back to Atlas, all the way back to Cinder.

She’s a tough kid in a not so good situation. That’s all Rhodes can really say on the matter, what with the loose child labor laws and the old reputation that keeps that hotel running. Look, Rhodes ain’t the man for critiquing ethics and socialism, especially Atlas and Mantle of all places.

Still though, he did what he thought was best for Cinder. Train her in secret, visit monthly if possible, and not take her with him. The life of an active huntsman who’s constantly traveling is not ideal for a kid to tag along. At least in the Glass Unicorn, Cinder is under a roof and away from the Grimm.

Or at least that’s what Rhodes keeps telling himself.

Each day he’s away from the girl, he tries to come up with another reason as to why he should not just up and take Cinder with him. For obvious reasons, it’s kidnapping. Then there’s the whole issue of his entire life is not child friendly.

No home for Cinder to be warm in. No extended family that can keep an eye on her when he’s away. No teammates…

And yet last month's visit, there was hesitation on his tongue, wanting to ask if she wanted to accompany him. It’s an outrageous idea, tactless and unreasonable. Training her for the academy entrance exams is the smarter play, a long one but way smarter than just thrusting Cinder onto the road with him of all people.

Rhodes is not the most upstanding role model to look up to, no less having to travel with. Imagine his surprise when a kid looks at him with starry, wide eyes. He doesn’t deserve any of that, not sure if he ever will, yet he kept training her. He kept returning to Atlas for Cinder.

“What’s that humming supposed to mean?”

There’s not many people for Rhodes to return to, even less if anyone ever wanted him in the first place. Cinder is the exception though, his mind excuses. She doesn’t know the mistakes he made, the suffering or aftermath.

In due time, the academy would give her a better life, not him. Just gotta stay in this waiting game, for Cinder’s sake.

“It means that I think you’re lying.”

That’s a long road he’s forcing Cinder to walk. For the longest time, Rhodes believed that was the only course of action for Cinder when really it’s just the path of least resistance. All because he is a coward stuck in the crossroads.

“...Fine. There’s this kid I look out for, that’s all.”

All the excuses he accumulated began the moment he saw Cinder in that dusty storage room. Of course she’s miserable and of course he pities her. Rhodes wasn’t the strategist of his former team, nor was he the heart. He was just the tank, master of waiting for the perfect moment, and the one who ends up walking a long road all alone.

It’s stupid of him to think Cinder should endure it all alone. It’s collassily ignorant of him to give her attention and leave the next day and think that’s proper teaching. It’s akin to constantly relighting a candle wit. One day there will be nothing left to spark.

“That so? It sounds like you must care a lot about her. She must miss you too.”

It took too long for Rhodes to think that maybe his interference has made Cinder’s life worse. He gave her a direction, a goal to reach the academy, a dream of freedom on the open road. Hope can be a powerful and dangerous thing.

Rhodes knows first hand how devastating it can be when hope ends out. He can outlast a storm, a horde of Grimm, nearly anything but that’s no guarantee for the people around him. This always lingers in his head when he’s out on bigger missions with a group of hunters.

“She’s not mine.”

This particular Nevermore hunt had a few familiar faces for Rhodes, all of whom he’d avoided. Then by luck he was caught by some of the newer graduated hunters, probably with only three or five years of experience. Not the ideal team up but the less he complains the quicker they complete the objective.

If only that white hooded huntress wasn’t so talkative and observant. If only she didn’t dig into his vague words and made him think. If only he had learned all of this months early for Cinder’s sake.

“My boyfriend has a baby girl at home. I might not be her birth mother but I will always see her as my daughter.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

There’s a knowing glint in those silver eyes. “You look like you’re eager to return home.”

Rhodes couldn’t get that line out of his head. Eagerness is a burden on long trips, it’s the annoying sibling to waiting, and it’s the very thing on Cinder’s face whenever Rhodes enters the Glass Unicorn.

Eagerness is in his heart that first night after meeting Cinder. He wanted to return. He wanted to take less missions away. He wanted Cinder to finally leave that place.

Why did he insist on making her wait?

Each and every excuse he came up with nipped and lashed at his ankles on every step he took closer to Atlas. The Grimm hunt was dealt with at a near blinding speed and that huntress said she’ll cover for him on the post-hunt reports that he always hated.

For transportation to Atlas, Rhodes had to suck up his pride and call the only other teammate who’s not dead.

“You wouldn’t ask unless it’s an emergency, Rhodes. An airship will be at the airport in an hour.”

“Thank you Willow, I mean it.”

True to his former teammate’s words, the huntsman was later in a private Schnee jet enroute to Atlas. If he was more reckless he would’ve hand it land right at the Glass Unicorn but attention was the last thing he wanted.

Once on the streets, he was practically retracing his steps all the way back to the hotel. Through the late night streets, up the steps and through the fancy lobby. At the reception desk, perfectly orderly is the woman of the establishment.

Her wrinkle lines move along with her cordially smile, prepared for greeting clients no matter the late hour.

Rhodes never thought of this madame in good graces. Rumor has it that the Glass Unicorn didn’t always have child servants back when the lady’s late husband was in charge. Under new management as the saying goes and the regular clients here didn’t bat an eye when the staff dwindled to one young employee.

It’s hypocrisy that he was a part of the silent crowd and only now does he actually react.

On previous visits, he’d always just booked a room and waited for the lobby to empty to get to Cinder. Right now though, Rhodes doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

Once upon a time, he had to brainstorm a myriad of lies to get Cinder out of the hotel. Excuses that range from she’s a missing link in a case or outright threatening to her to hand over Cinder. Well he’s not entirely sure how any of those scenarios would play out but it doesn’t matter in the end.

The mood in the air changes when two blonde girls come running out of the staff door. They’re both frightened out of their perfect composure.  

“Mom, come quick, we found something.”

“It’s Cinder, she has a weapon!”

Their mother glares at her daughters and clicks her tongue once the sisters notice the client present.

“Leave,” she demands lowly, “now.”

The girls scamper off in another direction while the lady smooths down her skirt. One hand lingers inside the pocket.

“Pardon me, Huntsman Rhodes, I have to attend to the matter.”

She takes one step, one loud clack of her heels away from the reception desk and Rhodes knew that this was it. It had to be now or never.

“Wait,” Rhodes didn’t waste his movement, striding past the lady and blocking her path to the door. “It’ll be best if I go.”

Scowling as politely as possible, she argues, “Sir, I assure you that girl is absolutely under my control.”

“You’re awfully confident,” Rhodes snaps. This is taking too much time, who knows what’s Cinder doing right now.

“I am,” she raises her voice, not appreciating his attitude.

It looks like she’s about to lecture him about respect so he cuts her off. “I’m going in there, not you. Got it?”

He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making. Yes he’s angry and impatient and just wants this whole hotel gone. Something about him must have conveyed his true rage because the madame stands frozen, confusion and fear in her slacken jaw and how she took a step back.

Then he sees how her eyes flicker to something behind him.

On some sort of instinct, she took her hand out of her pocket. Clasped there is a remote with a yellow button, her thumb pressed down.

There’s a scream in his ears, a chilling shock down his spine as he turns around and sees Cinder at the doorway. She dropped the sword he gifted her and has one hand on the frame to support her shaking body as electricity rumbles and bites at her neck.

Rhodes never thought to ask why she had a fancy necklace. He wonder how stupid he is for failing to recognise lightning dust. He’s even more of a failure to be surprised that this is happening.

To add more evidence that Cinder has spent far too long in this hotel, Cinder grits her teeth and lets go of the doorframe. She starts limping over, the shockwaves going up and down her skin. Rhodes watches in horror and perverse awe before he hears a button getting mashed.

He grabs the madame’s wrist, snatching the remote out of her hand in seconds, and crushing it in a steel hand. It’s pathetically small help, clearly everything Rhodes has trained Cinder for was not the help she really needed.

There’s a momentarily delay in the remote’s signal as the shock collar continues. Cinder reaches a shaky hand up and rips the collar off, glaring at the source of all her pain.

“Cinder,” Rhodes interferes with her path but the girl is still glaring at the madame. “Let’s leave right now. You don’t have to stay here any longer.” He knees down to her, desperately wishing that the fire in her eyes won’t burn her up. “I’m sorry it took me this long to get you out.”

She still hasn’t looked at him. Yet at his apology tears start welling up. Cinder marches past him, stalking up to the madame who’s backed up against the frontdesk.

“Without you, I am nothing,” Cinder tells her and her tone sounds odd to the huntsman, like the words are warped around her tongue and teeth.

She thrusts her hand up, still holding the shock collar, and harshly presses it to the madame’s throat. In mere seconds, the metal is superheated in Cinder’s grip and the madame cries out, jerking away and falling sideways on the desk and then falling to the floor.

The madame clasps a hand around her neck but Rhodes saw the burnt skin there, diamond shaped like the collar’s centerpiece.

“But because of you,” Cinder hisses and throws the collar at the madame’s face, “I am everything.”

The girl is a heaving mess, her hands curling up and steaming.

“Cinder,” he calls and the girl’s whole body flinches.

Swirling around, Cinder angrily demands at him, “She deserves so much worse!”

“And you deserve better and you will get it all if we leave right now.” Rhodes begs her, “Please, will you come with me?”

Cinder quietly gasps at his question. Some combination of awe and surprise on her young face as she starts crying more.

He honestly doesn’t know if he can talk her out of murder, revenge realisticly. But if he can just take her away from this place then maybe she’ll choose otherwise. Maybe she’ll always want to kill these people but for right now, he needs to physically get away from these people.

The heat of her semblance dims from her hands as Cinder wipes the tears off her cheeks. She stumbles over to Rhodes and once close he hugs her tight. The girl bawls into his chest and Rhodes wastes no time to securely carry her in one arm.

He remembers to pick up Cinder’s fallen sword as he gets up. The madame on the other hand is still on the floor, trembling and confused but not making any motion to stop them. There’s a frantic wheezing coming from her too.

When she glares at them, Rhodes frowns back. “No one is going to ask about tonight, got it?”

The madame bitterly coughs and manages to croak out, “Leave.”

He lets her have the final word and marches out. Cinder got her breath back and has wide, teary eyes as they approach the doors. She squirms for a bit and he lets her down.

Standing on shaky legs, Cinder pushes open the doors with all her might. The wide swing of the doors shakes the frame but the girl doesn’t care. On her first step out of the hotel, the grandfather clock in the lobby rings twelve.

-

One step outside of the Glass Unicorn and Cinder felt like sobbing, running, and collapsing at the same time. Her hand squeezed tight onto Rhodes’ as she trembled against the midnight air. Its chill is heavenly on her overheated skin, an after effect from the electricity.

It’s all over now. She’s finally free from the madame and her hotel. Cinder just wants to run despite her straining muscles so she leans on Rhodes. He mumbles something about hurrying to the airport, hoping that a plane is still there but Cinder barely comprehends.

She’s actually free and Rhodes had wanted her to leave with him. Each visit, Cinder truly thought that he didn't want her around. The plan was for the academy, where he won’t have to deal with her but instead he actually asked.

Granted Cinder had wished he’d asked like the first night they met. Or maybe years earlier, that would’ve been good too. But here they are. It took her obnoxious step sisters to get too nosey and for Rhodes to finally be there at the right time.

Yet it still feels like Rhodes is late. The madame had one last play with the collar and Cinder wanted to finally end her. She can still feel the buzz in her neck.

Even though they’ve only walked down the street so far, Cinder feels too close and so far away from the Glass Unicorn. She feels like sobbing again.

“Hey, hey,” Rhodes moves his arm to comfortably enwrap her with warmth, “it’s okay now Cinder.”

A sob hitches in her throat and it’s like her semblance is burning her from the inside. Cinder doesn’t think she’s okay right now, she doesn’t believe she’ll ever be okay, but finally walking out of those pristine doors felt so good.

Somewhere in her thoughts, there’s the question on how it would feel like if she actually gave what the madame and her daughters deserved. At the same time, Cinder never wants to enter the Glass Unicorn even if her life depends on it. Which it does not though, she doesn’t ever have to be there again.

She’s finally freed.

That hopeful feeling gets lodged into her throat when suddenly a nice looking car pulls up in front of them. Rhodes holds her close as her heart hammers. Cinder can’t phantom what is going on as the well dressed driver exits and approaches them.

“Mr. Kolossos,” the man nods politely and when he looks at Cinder she flinches but he continues with another nod, “Miss.” He opens the backseat door and waves over, “This way please.”

“I didn’t call for a car,” Rhodes said and walked on, guiding Cinder away from the car.

As they’re passing the open car door, someone from inside scoffs, “Just get in here, Rhodes.”

In the nightlight, it’s hard for Cinder to see inside the car but she sees a feminine figure that matches the voice. Cinder can’t help but shake.

Rhodes on the other hand freezes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up unless you want to walk all the way to the airbay. The jet’s not there by the way.”

The huntsman huffs quietly but up close Cinder can see his lips barely form a smile. He catches her gaze and he winces. Rhodes pinches the bridge of his nose before whispering to her, “Cinder, I know you’ve been through a lot right now but do you still trust me?”

She doesn’t like the unsureness in his eyes, like she’s the one who will hurt him. Cinder knows there has been nights where she outright hates it when he leaves or his plan to wait seven years in that hotel. But every time he comes back, Cinder can’t help but want to hope that this time, she’ll join him.

And now it’s happening she knows that Rhodes is the only person she can rely on. If she’s on her own, well, she’ll have to be everything she needs. Cinder doesn’t know where that will take her but right now, she wants to stay with Rhodes.

“Yes,” Cinder tells him, squeezing his hand back.

“Thank you,” Rhodes smiles and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. Being thanked and stuff, especially over feelings. He looks back over to the car and huffs, “Fine, we’ll get in.”

Rhodes goes in first, still holding Cinder’s hand and worryingly looks between Cinder and the door closed behind her. Cinder kind of appreciates not being in the middle seat. Feeling trapped in a fancy enclosed position is too soon for her anxiety.

Still though, Cinder peeks behind Rhodes’ bulk to see the lady. The car starts up and when they’re passing under streetlights, Cinder sees white long hair of a woman only seen on TV.

“I never imagined this is what your emergency was about.”

“Well, I didn’t need to tell you Willow,” Rhodes said plainly.

Willow Schnee rolls her eyes and accidentally makes eye contact with Cinder. She presses her lips in a thin line, neither mean or annoyed, simply processing. Eventually she sighs and looks away, “You two need a place for the night. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay Rhodes and…”

The empty silence has Willow awkwardly glance back to her. Cinder has never seen an elegant lady look awkward before, it’s kind of odd.

“Cinder,” she fills in.

“Cinder,” Willow repeats. “Alright, well,” she sighs again, faces the front, “we’ll be at home soon enough.”

At that word, home , Cinder tenses and relaxes. Any place is better than the hotel. She leans into Rhodes’ side and closes her eyes.

-

Thanks for reading!

[mrs-geuse]

Empty (Hank Anderson x Reader)

This one is purely a twist of a page from my own diary.

I’ve had some requests for pregnant!reader and Hank and...I just can’t do that right now. My husband and I have been struggling with infertility for a year and a close friend just announced her pregnancy today, my niece was born 3 weeks ago...it’s been emotional for me.

This is purely a therapeutic attempt at getting through this for me and I’m sorry if it disappoints.

Warnings: Infertility, mentions of alcoholism, mental health struggles, and (a history of) self-harm.

Hank hears a slam from somewhere in the house and he’s instantly peeking around the corner, down the hall, warm pizza long forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Y/N? You alright?” he calls. No response. “Y/N?” His mind is instantly working quickly, running through possibility after possibility of the worst shit.

You’d been going through it lately, your mental health at an all-time low for the last few months. It drove you to do some crazy shit and he was always there to pick up your pieces. He worried you’d resort to some of those old coping habits he knew you had. You’d told him you hadn’t done that in years, but it was still a very real possibility to him and it kept him up at night, the image of you bleeding out.

Tonight, he thought you were doing better. You’d been working on getting answers for what was bothering you…you’d spent a lot of time working through things together and – though the touchy-feely stuff was a little hard for Hank to vocalize – you were in a better place than you’d been in, well, ever.

“I’m fine,” you finally call to him, but he can hear in your voice that you’re so not fine.

“Sweetheart, come on, what is it?”

He peers into the bedroom, sees your phone face-down on the nightstand, your body on the bed, back to the headboard, knees pressed against your chest.

“It happened again,” you start, voice breaking a little bit. This could be one of two things, he knows.

Either another friend is pregnant or your period showed up.

Hank knows it’s not the latter, based on the positive ovulation test on the sink, the fact that you’ve been all over him for the last few days…

"Fuck, sweetheart…”

You shake your head, shake it off, try to take a breath.

“I feel like such an asshole, yanno? I’m happy for her, I really am, but I’m so fucking tired of it not being us. It’s been a year, Hank, a fucking year…”

He knows this, is very aware. He knows because you’ve been to the specialist, done the ten vials of bloodwork, the ultrasound up the cooch, the follow-up. Hell, he’d even done the jizz-in-a-cup thing just because he knew how much this broke you that you weren’t a mom yet.

He can remember the anxiety for those results, remember what it felt like to think it was him. He’d been convinced it was him. Hank hadn’t really thought about having another kid after Cole…and then he met you. Young, you, and that almost scared him off – the knowing that you were gonna want kids.

Hank was a drinker, for years, still is – only now he has someone to hold him through the night and that makes the drinking a little less necessary, makes life a little more bearable.

Only the results showed that his swimmers were still good. And your results showed that your stuff was all good…so, what the fuck?

He remembers holding your hand in that office as the doctor told you news, remembers your sleepless nights up filled with guilt, for whatever reason. If there was something wrong, it was nothing to feel guilty for, yet he couldn’t talk you down from that.

The doctor rambled about how some healthy couples can try for a year with no success, have nothing wrong with them…twenty percent. Twenty-fucking-percent of couples and apparently you fell right into that group.

The agony this caused you, on top of everything else you’d been through. That year consisted of monthly breakdowns in the bathroom when the bleeding started. You’d been through your share of symptom-checking, so convinced you’d been pregnant that month – you’re not normally queasy, you’re not normally late – yet Aunt Flo always reared her stupid, fucking head and each month he’d have to hold his girl and reassure you that eventually you’ll be carrying a child, things would work out…

Hell, there were months you both went sober – just in case that might help. Only it didn’t, it only made the both of you more anxious, made the constant sex almost a chore, drove you both into arguments and bullshit…

It was only recently that you sat at that kitchen table wearing his police shirt, going on about how you needed to live a little, how you needed to learn to let time do its thing. In theory? Great idea! In practice? There were so many fucking roadblocks to that happiness.

Including when your friends post on social media that – surprise! – they’re expecting!

It’s always like a gut-punch, always feels like falling and anger and guilt and ‘how-dare-I-feel-this-way-it’s-not-their-fault’ yet each month you watch them update with pictures of pregnant bellies and then eventually they post that the baby has arrived. Not to mention the monthly updates from everyone about what their little bundle is into and what things they can do and milestones reached, first steps, first words, pregnancy announcement number two…

You’d been through it all and honestly Hank just wished you’d quit the social media bullshit, cut it out, and focus on the two of you and Sumo.

And then your brother’s wife got pregnant at month one and, fuck, did that send you spiraling. Day drinking, driving drunk, crying all the time. Hank didn’t know if you’d ever get out of the funk.

Yet somehow you did. You were so damn strong, he was excited for that piece of you to grow with a baby, couldn’t wait to see what that child could become, hoped it took more of your traits and none of his.

At first, he was tentative about a child. After Cole, he couldn’t imagine the amount of anxiety he would have. But he knew how much you wanted it, how excited you were every time you went down the baby aisle at the store…

Now all you do is cry, avoid that aisle, look away.

You’d gotten through your sister-in-law’s baby shower just fine and now that the baby’s here and you’re seeing your parents step up as first-time grandparents…that hurt is real and raw.

And it’s not their fault, you know that, and you don’t hold resentment. You do avoid, though. Avoid calling, avoid social gatherings with the family. The shame you feel for not being a mom is something Hank can’t understand as a man, he just can’t. You told him once that it makes you feel like less of a woman and that shook him to the fucking core.

What kind of society puts this kind of pressure on the ‘natural progression of life’? How many people had asked about her getting pregnant, making assumptions that you weren’t trying, that you weren’t having issues.

“How did you let your sister-in-law get pregnant before you? You and Hank have been married longer, he’s old!” -the words of an actual family-friend. What a mess. How fucking painful for you to go through. He remembers that night vividly, remembers you walking him out because he was about to fight someone, remembers the way your tears looked as you paced in the parking lot, wondered how you were gonna go in and face everyone.

People suck, that’s for sure, and this is no different. People don’t understand and no one talks about infertility, you’re realizing. No one talks about the shame of it, the pain, the emotional devastation, what it fucking does to a happy marriage…

The two of you have come through stronger and you’re on a more positive, upbeat path but you still have your down days and Hank is very aware that you haven’t had one in about three weeks…

“Maybe we should start the adoption process,” you mumble with a sigh as he sits beside you, the bed dipping under his weight.

Only he knows you, he knows that you want to carry a baby, knows that there are options…like adopting an embryo…you’d researched your heart out. Researched about proper positions, different tricks, supplements, spent so much money on ovulation kits and doctor visits and pregnancy tests…

“I’m for it if that’s what you want, if you’re ready for that…” he rubs your shoulder.

You sigh, bury your face in his chest.

“I’m just so tired of waiting. I’m so tired of trying and getting hopeful and then bleeding. I’m tired of hearing from my parents that it’ll happen. I sort of wish something was wrong because then we could intervene. But now, what, we wait longer? It’s just bad luck? I’m fucking done with being told to wait and be patient, and that I’m too stressed. I’m pissed that people can have unhealthy habits or try for a month and get pregnant no issue while we have been doing our best to be better and this has been a full fucking year. Hank, we could have a three-month-old right now…right now! Holding a three-month-old. What the fuck?” you let a few tears slip by.

“I’m right here with you. I’ve seen how hard this has been on you. You’re stronger than anyone I know, baby.” He kisses your temple, rubs up and down your back. “You’re gonna be a great mom. And it’s gonna happen. No matter what I have to do, I’m gonna make you a mom.”

He doesn’t care how much money it’s going to cost; he needs to see you happy again. He misses it. You were so full of life once, you’re like a wilted flower now.

“You’ve been great with all this, Hank. Thank you.” You kiss him, lean into it more and Hank feels that spark, feels his arousal start up again.

“Fuck,” he sighs, “I know what you want,” his fingers dance across your neck. “How ‘bout we eat some pizza,” he kisses you, “and then,” another kiss, “we come back in here,” a kiss to your neck, “bring the whipped cream,” you smirk at that, “and enjoy each other.”

You hum. “That sounds so good right now, Hank…”

He nods. “Gonna run me dry by the end of this week,” he stands with you to head to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, big man.” You smack him on the ass.

So maybe your life isn’t perfect, but it’s yours.

[fandomsalive]

Give Me Back My Broken Parts

Give Me Back My Broken Parts | Reddie | Teen and Up | 4,595 words

Summary: “So I told her — my therapist, I mean — about that Mellon kid, you know, the one who was murdered just before we came back to Derry?” Richie asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Yeah, so I told her about Mellon, and what they did to him, and how — how — I knew that could have been me.”

Eddie feels his brow furrow. He doesn’t understand.

“But that guy was killed for being —”

“Yeah,” Richie huffs, interrupting Eddie before he can finish that sentence, voice desperate and unsure. “Yeah, Eddie,” he repeats after a moment, letting out a deep, deep sigh.

“Oh,” Eddie replies dumbly.

—

Title from “Be Okay” by Ingrid Michaelson. Reddie has consumed my every waking hour… so I have come to contribute to the fandom. I’ve kind of left this open for myself to continue in this universe, but this can be read as a stand alone and is a complete oneshot. Thanks to my bestest friend @imnotinclinedtomaturity for the edit <3

Ao3 Link

—

“So, I’ve started seeing a therapist,” Richie blurts out, apropos of nothing.

Eddie immediately shuts up, surprised by the interruption. It’s not that he was talking about anything important — mostly bitching about his job again — and it’s not as though Richie doesn’t interrupt often, it’s just that of all the things Eddie was expecting Richie to say, that was not one of them.

He’s thrown off for a moment, apparently long enough to worry Richie, who abruptly starts talking again.

“You know, I figured it was about time I got one, considering all the bullshit we went through in Derry twice,” he explains in that tone he gets when he’s panicked, and he’s talking just to fill the silence. “Not that I’ve told her anything about the killer clown, because let’s face it, they’d just throw me in the looney bin for that one,” Richie jokes, startling a snort out of Eddie. That seems to give Richie back some of his confidence, as he continues, “But uhm, it’s been good. You know. For me.”

“Oh…kay,” Eddie responds, unsure of himself. “That’s great, Richie. I’m really glad to hear that,” he tries, nervously twining his fingers into the bottom of his shirt. What do you say to someone when they tell you they’ve started going to therapy? Surely Eddie’s supposed to be supportive, right? Or is he supposed to be concerned?

But Richie just laughs, the sound loud and almost forced sounding. “Dude,” he says, “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck, what, dipshit?” Eddie barks back, immediately feeling stupid. “What did you want me to say?” he deflects, “You kind of sprung that on me out of nowhere!”

“I don’t know, maybe ‘About time, asshole, you’ve been a nutcase your entire life’?” Richie suggests, like it’s obvious. Eddie bristles immediately.

“You know I’m not always an asshole, right?” Eddie snaps. “I know how to be supportive,” he grumbles, even though he fucking doesn’t.

“Coulda fooled me,” Richie snorts, but his tone is teasing, if not a little tense. “But seriously, thanks Eds,” Richie adds, letting out a shuddery sounding sigh.

“Course,” Eddie shoots back with a half smile, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Richie’s not the first of the Loser’s to get a therapist. Bill had started seeing someone the week he returned home, and it had taken a few weeks, but Bev had quickly followed after she’d settled down with Ben in Nebraska, hundreds of miles away from her abusive husband back in New York. It seemed like it was only a matter of time for the rest of them to follow, and it wouldn’t surprise Eddie at all if Ben was already seeing someone as well.

It’s just that Eddie doesn’t know why Richie has brought it up, especially to him, the least adept at talking about emotions of the bunch.

“It’s just, therapy’s hard, you know?” Richie continues, starting to gain that same awkward, unsure energy from before. “They actually make you talk about shit, can you imagine?” he snorts. “They want to know all about my childhood, and how I came to be the man I am today. All that fun shit,” he explains mockingly.

Eddie hums encouragingly. Richie inhales deeply, and continues.

“But how do you explain all that clown bullshit to a stranger?” Richie asks with a defeated sigh. Eddie can just about see him dragging his hand across his face in frustration. “How do you explain Derry to someone who’s never been there?”

“I don’t know, dude,” Eddie replies as softly as he can manage, which still seems to come out harsh. He grits his teeth, hating himself a little bit for being so useless, when Richie’s here trying to bear his heart out to him.

Richie hums. “Neither do I,” he admits.

He’s quiet for a moment. Eddie doesn’t interrupt, assuming that Richie is building up to something. He knows how Richie can get, when someone tries to push him, and he imagines if Richie brought this up, it must really be something he needs to talk about.

“So I’ve been talking with a therapist,” Richie suddenly says, heaving a large breath as he presumably starts over. “About how Derry fucked us all up, minus the collective clown trauma,” he states simply, like that isn’t the part that matters — and Eddie supposes it isn’t. He knows all about that.

“And Bev said I should — I should start with the stuff that Pennywise, you know… showed me,” Richie explains slowly, and— oh. That’s where this is going. Eddie can feel himself starting to tense up automatically, thinking about the way Pennywise had appeared to him as the leper, how he’d appeared to Eddie as his mom. He shudders automatically.

But still, Eddie doesn’t interrupt. Richie doesn’t really let him, shouldering on quickly like if he gets this out quick enough, he won’t have to deal with it anymore. Eddie can understand that.

“So I told her — my therapist, I mean — about that Mellon kid, you know, the one who was murdered just before we came back to Derry?” Richie asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Yeah, so I told her about Mellon, and what they did to him, and how — how — I knew that could have been me.” The words come out shaky and fast, until they almost start to run together. For a moment, Eddie doesn’t even understand them. All he can really focus on is the way Richie’s breathing has sped up, how he can suddenly hear it clearly over the line.

Mellon. Hadn’t Mike told them about Mellon? He’d been at the fair with his boyfriend when some Derry locals saw them holding hands and beat the shit out of him. From the way Mike told it, even if Pennywise hadn’t been there, Mellon would have died.

Eddie feels his brow furrow. He doesn’t understand.

“But that guy was killed for being —”

“Yeah,” Richie huffs, interrupting Eddie before he can finish that sentence, voice desperate and unsure. “Yeah, Eddie,” he repeats after a moment, letting out a deep, deep sigh.

“Oh,” Eddie replies dumbly.

Gay. That guy had been killed for being gay.

A shudder ripples up Eddie’s spine at the very thought of something like that happening to Richie. He sort of wants to throw up just imagining it, and he finds his own breathing has gone shaky. “Richie,” Eddie starts, voice cracking, but Richie cuts him off.

“And I told her about growing up gay in small town Derry, Maine, and how I couldn’t so much as hang out with a boy alone in the arcade without someone calling me a faggot,” Richie hurries on in a strangled voice. “I barely even understood that I was gay, but everyone else seemed to already know,” he adds, chuckling humorlessly, brokenly.

Eddie’s throat feels tight, and his fingers curl hard around the edges of his phone. He can feel his eyes burning with tears.

“Richie,” he tries again, but Richie still isn’t done.

“That shit’s haunted me for years,” Richie admits, and he sounds like he’s forcing the words out of his throat. Eddie wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to, but this is why Richie called, Richie wants to tell him, so who is Eddie to stop him?

“Even without Pennywise, that shit would have haunted me. Pennywise didn’t even have to call me a faggot — the rest of the town did it for him,” Richie chokes out. “All he did was mutter some bullshit about knowing my secret, and that was it. That was enough to break me.”

Eddie lifts a hand to pinch between his eyes, and does his best to hold back a sniffle. He inhales shakely, but lets Richie talk.

“So I told my therapist ‘hey, I’m gay,’ and it was the first time I’d ever said it to anyone,” Richie explains roughly, clearing his throat loudly to make up for the fact that it sounds strangled. It doesn’t really help. “Isn’t that fucked up, Eds? Forty years old, and the first time I say ‘I’m gay,’ is to someone I’m paying to talk to me.” Richie laughs humorously again. “Turns out the reason I’m so fucked up isn’t even because of some stupid ass clown. It’s that little ol’ thing known as ‘internalized homophobia.’ So take that, Pennywise. Guess you win in the end,” he says, and lets out a deep, shuddery sigh.

He’s crying. Eddie can almost hear it, in that quiet way of Richie’s. He’s sniffling just softly enough that it’s difficult for Eddie to discern, but his breathing is harsh, and every once in a while he seems to let out a little gasp. Eddie’s nails bite into the skin of his knee, where he's gripping tightly to himself.

“Rich,” Eddie tries, his own voice strangled with unshed tears. He grits his teeth, unsure what else to say, but desperate to say it anyway.

God. Knowing that Richie has been carrying this around with him for years, where Eddie couldn’t even help because he hadn’t been there… it’s devastating, and so, so achingly familiar that Eddie doesn’t even know where to start.

“And I know —” Richie starts up again, his voice back under control. “I know that they made fun of you at school for it too, but —” Richie stops abruptly, starts again. “But it was true, with me. When they wrote ‘Tozier sucks flamer cock,’ on the bathroom stalls, they weren’t wrong. I mean, I was fucking fifteen in Derry fucking Maine, of course they were wrong, but the principle still stands. I was gay, and the whole fucking world knew it.” Richie lets out another shuddery breath.

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, fully prepared to say it was true for me too, but he can’t seem to force the words out of his mouth. He feels himself clamming up, ducks his face and lets the tears fall.

Richie clears his throat again.

“But anyway, therapy right?” Richie tries to joke, the words falling flat. “I told my therapist about all that bullshit I went through, and how it fucked me up for the rest of my life, and…” Richie trails off, sighing heavily. “And she gave me fucking homework, Eds, can you believe that?” he asks, laughing hoarsely. “Fucking homework.”

Eddie forces out his own little laugh in sympathy, but he’s crying, and he can’t stop crying, because he has so much to say and he can’t fucking say it.

Eddie thinks Richie might know that he’s upset Eddie and wants to help him, but doesn’t know how to do it, because he lets out a little moan of distress. “Fuck,” he mutters roughly.

“Fuck,” Eddie agrees quietly.

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of their rough breathing, echoing each other across the line. Eddie’s got his eyes squeezed shut, and his lips pressed tight together. He knows it’s his turn to break the silence, knows that Richie is waiting for him to say something, anything, to let Richie know that Eddie is there and that Eddie cares and that Eddie is okay.

So he says, “What homework?” through a rough, throat-clearing cough. Richie only hesitates for a moment.

“Well, to come out to someone I trust, for starters,” Richie hedges, clearing his throat as well.

“Check,” Eddie shoots back on a hoarse laugh, wiping at his eyes, now. “What else?”

This time, Richie hesitates for longer. Eddie can hear him swallowing thickly on the other end of the line, clearly gearing up for something. After everything that Richie has said, though, Eddie can’t imagine anything worse..

“Richie,” Eddie finally says, sighing quietly, “You just came out to me, dude. What could be harder than that?”

Richie inhales sharply, and says “I’m in love with you, Eds.”

It’s a little bit like being punched in the stomach, the way Richie’s words hit. They knock the breath out of Eddie and leave him feeling dizzy, completely shocked and unprepared as he is. It’s the absolute last thing Eddie was ever expecting to hear, and it’s not that it’s bad — far fucking from it — it’s just that Eddie hadn’t imagined this could ever happen in his wildest dreams.

When he’d walked into the Jade of the Orient three months ago, Eddie hadn’t known what to expect, but the moment he’d seen Richie again, something he’d been missing for years slammed right back into him — Eddie was, and had been, in love with Richie Tozier for his entire life. He’d just forgotten, at least in the forefront of his brain, because of the stupid clown — but nothing could have taken away the love Eddie felt for Richie, not really. It was something that had always been there, that Eddie had been unwilling, and then unable, to name.

Eddie had planned to take that fact to his grave, and now here Richie was telling him that he felt the same.

“And I know you’re married,” Richie scrambles to say, when Eddie fails to respond. “And I know you’re not — you know,” Richie stutters over the word, ploughing on in the midst of Eddie’s silence, and Eddie opens his mouth to respond because no, no you’ve got it all wrong, but Richie doesn’t stop, and Eddie can’t speak, and Richie says, “but I just needed you to know.”

As soon as the words are out, Richie lets out a heavy exhale, and falls silent again. Eddie feels his shoulders fall in relief that Richie isn’t taking it back, that he isn’t hanging up the phone, that he isn’t panicking and changing the subject and acting like it’s all just some joke and that his feelings don’t matter before Eddie can respond and tell him that he feels the same.

For the first time all night, Eddie knows exactly what to say.

“I left Myra two weeks ago.”

There’s stunned silence on the other end of the line. Eddie is sitting up straight, back a perfect line. His breathing is shallow, and he can feel himself shaking with adrenaline. He wrings out the hand not holding his phone, and shifts to standing.

“I never loved her,” he continues, voice shaking. He begins to pace. “I knew I didn’t love her the day we got married, but I married her anyway, because it was just easier. Richie, I —” Eddie inhales sharply, shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Richie, I’m gay, too,” he breathes out in one fell swoop, and feels the weight of the world lift off his shoulders for just one moment.

For just one moment, he feels free.

And he knows it's not that easy. Internalized homophobia and all that, like Richie said. But it’s easier, having said it aloud even just the once, easier knowing that he isn’t alone, easier knowing that if no one else will, at least Richie will accept him.

Eddie exhales a shuddery laugh, and finds the strength to open his eyes again.

“Richie,” he breathes, clinging tight to his phone, even as he knows that it’s fine, it’s okay, because Richie just said he feels the same way, “Richie, I’m in love with you too.”

The surprised gasp on the other end of the line makes Eddie’s insides wobble, and he laughs, watery. He stumbles back to the sofa, falls onto it, and presses a hand to his mouth, because now that he’s started, he can’t stop. Peals of giggles slip past his lips, and he feels like a child again. Maybe he sort of is — losing the first sixteen years of your life because of a crazy space clown can really do a lot to a person.

In some ways, Eddie never really got to be a kid. Richie brings out the kid in him, and it’s one of the things that makes Eddie fall in love with Richie every day.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathes, clearly still trying to take it all in. Eddie can understand that. His own mind is still reeling with all the information Richie has just dropped on him, and he’s certain that when he wakes up in the morning, he’ll have to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t all just a dream, but for right now, Eddie just wants to bask in the knowledge that Richie loves him, too.

Richie loves him too.

“Holy shit,” Eddie repeats on another giggle, grasping at his own stomach from how hard he’s laughing. He curls over himself, gasping into his knees, and feels the tears start to drip down his cheeks again.

“I love you,” Eddie says, because he can now. “Fuck, Richie, I’ve loved you my entire life,” he adds on a sob, his breathing unsteady.

Eddie’s pretty certain Richie’s crying on the other end of the line, too.

“Holy shit,” Richie gasps again, sounding a little hysterical this time. “Holy shit, Eddie what?” he asks, and his voice is so fucking ripped apart with terror and hope in equal measure that it breaks Eddie’s heart. He wishes more than anything that he was there with Richie right now so that he could kiss him, hold him, reassure him with his entire being, but for now, he’s just going to have to settle on words.

“I love you,” Eddie replies instantly, voice as sure as he can make it through the tears. He sniffles loudly, laughs at the disgusting sound, and says “I really, really do.”

Richie makes some kind of hysterical gasping sound in reply, and it makes Eddie laugh again, his heart soaring. Despite the tears, Eddie can’t seem to stop smiling.

It seems to take forever for both of them to calm down. Richie had always been the more emotional of the two of them, and even though he’d always tried so hard to cry silently, to appear like a pillar of strength, once he got going, he often couldn’t stop. Eddie can hear him over the phone, the way his breathing keeps hitching, the way he gasps, and sniffles, and makes little broken sounds.

If it were any other situation, Eddie would hate the sound of it. Richie crying isn’t rare, necessarily — he was kind of a cry baby when they were kids, just don’t tell him that — but Richie falling to pieces was. This is Richie falling to pieces, and while it hurts to hear, Eddie knows that for once, Richie isn’t crying because of something completely bad.

Eddie manages to pull himself together first. He wipes at his face and cringes at the sticky wetness, wrinkling his nose at the snot coating his nose. He gets up immediately to grab a wash rag, and brings his phone with him. He sets it on the counter next to the sink, turns on the water, and scrubs at his face harshly until he feels clean again.

By the time he pulls his face away, Richie is laughing.

“What?” Eddie complains, already knowing what Richie’s going to say.

“Dude,” Richie cackles, voice somehow still managing to sound all nasally and stuffed up. “Did you just wash your face?”

“Yeah, asshole, I did!” Eddie shouts at him, even as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Do you have any idea how much bacteria is in snot? There’s a reason you’re not supposed to fucking eat it,” Eddie growls, making Richie howl with laughter. He’d been that kid in grade school who ate boogers on a fucking dare, and it had always grossed Eddie out. “Besides,” he continues huffily, “my face felt disgusting,” he mutters, and reaches for a towel to wipe himself off.

Richie’s laughter slowly fades out, until he sighs and grunts, “me too.” Eddie can hear shuffling on the other end of the line, hears the sink turn on, and smiles at the thought of Richie washing his face clean too. Eddie picks up his phone, turns, and leans himself back against the sink, one arm crossed against his chest.

Now that the crying is over, all Eddie can feel is a rush of embarrassed excitement. His skin is buzzing with giddy anticipation, and he’s nervous as hell, but he knows he doesn’t really have to be. Still, that doesn’t keep him from feeling it, and he’s filled with so much energy that he can’t bring himself to go back into the front room to sit down. Instead, he smiles into his phone and jiggles his leg and waits patiently for Richie to return.

“You know,” Richie says, when he finally picks up his phone again, “That actually really did make me feel better,” he admits on a contented sigh. Eddie laughs and shakes his head.

“No shit, Rich,” he jokes back. Richie chuckles, the sound warm and familiar, and something Eddie never wants to live without ever again.

They’ve spent the last three months talking nearly every day, and Eddie will never get tired of hearing Richie laugh. Eddie’s smile turns soft, and he wishes more than anything that he was there with Richie right now.

“So…” Richie awkwardly mutters after a moment of silence.

“So,” Eddie repeats, nervous. He bites his lip, and waits.

“I really wish you were here right now,” Richie lets out in a rush, vulnerable, plaintive. Eddie inhales sharply, and lets the breath out on a whispery sigh.

“Me too, Rich… Me too,” he admits softly, clinging tight to his phone. They’re 2,500 miles apart right now, and the distance has never felt so far. Eddie sighs.

“I wish I could kiss you,” Richie adds after a moment, softer this time, quieter, a little more unsure, like he doesn’t really know if he’s allowed to have this.

Eddie smiles, feeling his heart swoop, because it feels almost unbelievable to him, too. “Me too,” he whispers back, and he feels all of sixteen again — sixteen in a world where being gay hadn’t been so taboo that Eddie had repressed it ten feet under — on the phone with his best friend who he wanted so much to be more. When Eddie had been sixteen, he’d dreamed of a moment like this that had just never come.

And now, over two decades later, it finally has.

“When can I see you?” Richie asks abruptly, breaking through Eddie’s thoughts and sounding impossibly eager. “I could come to New York,” he offers impulsively.

Eddie opens his mouth to say yes — yes, yes a thousand times yes, but Richie interrupts before he can.

“—if that’d be cool,” Richie adds, seemingly tempering his eagerness. “I’ve got a meeting with my manager early tomorrow, and I’m supposed to workshop a show on Friday, but I could reschedule and be out there Thursday night.” He’s talking so fast that Eddie almost can’t understand him. It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do, Eddie’s smile slips away.

Richie has a show on Friday, even if it is just to workshop. It’s been three months since Derry, three months since Richie apparently “tanked his career” — his words, not Eddie’s — and he’s just started writing for himself again for the first time. Eddie can’t interrupt that just so he can hold Richie a little sooner. No, he can be patient.

Eddie sighs, shakes his head, and says “No, Richie.”

Richie exhales sharply, like Eddie’s blown the wind out from underneath his sails, but doesn’t say anything.

Pursing his lips, Eddie shoves himself off of the sink, and finally walks out of his restroom. He flicks the light off as he goes, shuts off the light in the living room, and finally collapses onto his bed in his room. He does all of this in complete silence, Richie refusing to say anything more on the other end of the line.

Concerned, Eddie plays back the conversation in his head and — oh. Fuck, that sounds so much worse than he’d meant it to.

“I do want to see you,” Eddie rushes to add, hopefully reassuring Richie that Eddie isn’t rejecting him. “So badly,” he tacks on, just for good measure.

“Then why?” Richie asks. It sounds like a whine, but Eddie can hear the undercurrent of hurt that Richie’s not doing a great job of hiding.

“Because you have a show on Friday, Richie,” Eddie reminds him firmly, not even attempting to hide how much he thinks Richie is being an idiot for trying to skip out on his own fucking show.

Richie scoffs. “I told you, I can reschedule —”

“Richie,” Eddie says, cutting him off seriously. Richie “humphs,” but shuts up. “This is your first show since — since Derry,” he reminds him, trying for gentle, and well aware that his tone just doesn’t go that way. He sounds more gruff than anything else, and he can only be thankful that Richie has always seemed to understand his intent anyway. “And it’s your first show doing your own material in years,” he adds earnestly.

“I guess…” Richie mumbles, and Eddie knows that he’s got him. He smiles wistfully.

“It’s not the end of the world if I can’t see you tomorrow,” Eddie reminds him in his best attempt to be reassuring. If it falls a bit flat, well, it’s because Eddie wants to see Richie tomorrow, it’s not Eddie’s fault. “We’ve got the rest of our lives in front of us,” he adds fiercely.

Richie inhales sharply on the other end of the line. When he speaks next, his voice sounds strangled, like he’s crying again. “But I don’t want to wait any longer,” Richie admits thickly. “I’ve waited my whole life for you,” he says miserably.

Eddie laughs humorlessly. “I know, Rich,” Eddie agrees quietly, “I have too,” he says, and this time, he does everything in his power to sound sincere. “But you’re finally going to do your own show on Friday, and all of the jokes are gonna be one hundred precent you. I can’t take that away from you,” Eddie admits seriously.

“Besides,” Eddie continues, “I have to work anyway. I don’t want the first time we see each other again to be some — some rushed thing where we throw our whole lives upside down and can’t really enjoy each other. If you show up tomorrow night, your manager won’t stop calling you, and my coworkers will probably shit themselves if I’m out with no notice for one day, and honestly Richie,” Eddie says all in a rush, stopping to inhale sharply when he runs out of breath, “When I see you again, I don’t want to be thinking about anything but you,” he says breathlessly.

“Oh,” Richie says, sounding stunned. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, and presses the phone tighter to his face. He hates that he has to be the one to shoot the idea down, but he knows that he’s right. He knows that it’ll be ten times better if they just wait.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, when Richie hasn’t said anything else for a long moment.

“Okay,” Richie agrees quietly, sniffling a little, but sounding less devastated than earlier. Eddie is glad to hear it. He smiles.

“Okay,” he repeats.

There’s a beat, and then, “I love you,” Richie says, hopeful.

Eddie laughs. “I love you, too,” he reassures him. “And I’m going to see you so fucking soon, okay?”

They’ve lost over twenty years with each other, but Eddie doesn’t plan to lose another second.

[penwieldingdreamer]

My best friend, naughty lover and partner for life

Next part in the series. Let me know what you think, as always have fun and happy reading.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: slight angst

Words: 3681

Part 6

“Mum?” you sniffed once your mother had answered the video call. It had been five weeks since Keanu’s revelation and he had already been gone again, the filming in New York continuing. He had been devastated, but took your decision not to join him at the Big Apple in stride. You couldn’t even return his sentiments without fearing it would end before it even began.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, concern coloring her words. “Did something happen to the baby?”

Shaking your head, you leaned back in the chair, seeing your mother watch you closely. “N-No.”  

"Alright, that’s good, Sweetie," your mother sighed relieved. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“H-He wanted me to - ugh.” You rubbed at the tears that were making their way down your cheeks again. Fucking hormones. “He wanted me to c-come to New-w Y-York with him.” Your mother strained to hear you over the hiccups that escaped you while talking to her. 

You could see your mother take a deep breath, probably trying to calm herself down. "Who wanted you to go with them? Tommy?" 

A groan left your lips, annoyed that she wasn't listening to the things you had told her before. "No! Keanu!" you nearly screamed, frustrated with your mother and with yourself for acting that way. "He was so afraid, mum." 

"Honey, please calm down." She spoke so softly, like the day you called her about the baby. "Tell me again what's been going on with the two of you." 

"Is dad listening?" 

You heard him chuckle in the background, of course he had been tuning into the conversation. "You know how he is, now say what's on your mind." 

"You remember when I told you about that guy, my boss?" you asked, feeling your breathing turn back to normal again. "Well, he's kinda acting like he's the actual father of my baby." 

"Say what?" came your father's astonished reply and you knew your mum must have been shocked as well. "But he isn't, right?" 

"No, daddy. He's not, but Tommy is." 

You could hear some squabble on the other end and finally the face of your father came into view once you had accepted and could see your mother behind him glaring at her husband. "Right now, that's better Pumpkin." he smiled. "Now let me get this straight. This Keanu fella isn't the baby daddy but really wished he was." 

"I guess so yeah, we haven't talked in like five weeks, because he's filming and hasn't been back in LA since then."

"Huh." your father made a comic sound, rubbing his chin the same way the actor often did. "Would it be so bad?" 

Your eyes widened and you sent a quick look to your mother not sure what to say. "I, well I don't know, I guess not. But still." you finally answered, shrugging your shoulders. "What's gotten into you, dad? When I introduced Tommy you've been acting like" 

"I already knew he was an asshole." He interrupted you, pointing his finger at you as if he was sitting right there across from you. "Tommy's always been the kind of guy to be careful about, but from what your mum tells me this new guy must be something special, even if he's an actor."

Rolling your eyes, you leaned your elbow on the table top, supporting your head with your hand. Of course your father would talk like that. It wasn't as if he didn't know Keanu Reeves, but if you had to bet, he'd probably not want to think about his daughter dating someone only a few years younger than him. 

"Now Pumpkin, let me in on this, too. What's been going on with him and you?" 

You were astonished that your mother hadn't already told him the whole story, so you repeated it again, how you had met, that we was your boss and did everything for you and the baby. "And then he said he loved me, that he wants me to come with him to New York." With bated breath you waited for your parents to react, scream, cry, whatever just to do something. 

"And how do you feel about it?" your mother questioned, giving you that look she always did when you already had an answer. "Do you love him, too?" 

The mood swings were coming in now, making you agitated or tearing up in a matter of seconds. "I don't know." you sighed, tears gathering in your eyes again as you leaned back in the chair, angling your phone so your parents could still see you. "There's so many things to consider. Keanu is a celebrity, he's always in the spotlight even if he doesn't try to be. And I'm pregnant with another guy's baby, working at the motorcycle shop he's the co-founder of and" 

"Take a breath sweetie, it's a simple yes or no question." your father interrupted your rant. "Do you love him?" 

"Why are you so chill about that?" you sniffled looking at your father, absolutely expecting him to rant about your possible relationship with Keanu. 

"You're old enough to make your own decisions. You didn't ask me when you got pregnant, so now answer the damn question."

Putting your hand over your bump protectively, you glared at your father. "Don't curse in front of her, she can hear you." you nearly shouted to make point, but calmed down when you thought about your feelings for Keanu. There was definitely something there but you'd have to explore it, take it easy before you said anything else to hurt him. 

"Sweetie, please, yes or no?" your mother asked, hoping to bring your wayward thoughts around. 

Rubbing a hand over your belly, you felt your daughter kick, telling you to suck it up. "I guess so, yeah. But" 

"No but, Pumpkin, you get up of your ass and tell him how you feel."

"Peter." your mother admonished him, lightly hitting his shoulder. "Just take your time, honey, but you should really talk to Keanu before it's too late."

***

"It's been eight weeks, don't you think you should talk to her?" 

Keanu was back for the weekend visiting his mum and his sisters. Kim had agreed to come over to his place and talk, they knew his mother would be okay with his decision as long as he was happy, but he needed his younger sisters opinion on the matter. "She walked away the first time." 

"Ke, don't forget she's pregnant and hormonal." she said, watching her brother, a cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. "She's prone to react that way, Y/N was shocked. After what you told me about her ex, I guess she is careful with her feelings." He puffed out the smoke and turned to the wonderful view in front of him. He kind of missed it while being in New York, and the warmth during the winter. "You kinda put her on the spot you know. The whole thing with Jenny and Ava has made you panic even more now and I think you just want to throw it out in the open before it's too late, try to do it the right way now with Y/N and the baby and hope everything goes smoothly." The actor grunted when he mulled over Kim's words. She was right to an extent, he was afraid of losing you or the baby, that's why he wanted you to know how he felt, no matter the costs. 

Maybe he should try to talk it over with you, get to terms with your feelings. 

Keanu sighed, knowing no matter what you decided, he'd still be there for you. You and the baby. 

God the baby, it would be born soon. If he still got it right there would only be five more weeks to go. Before his confession you had updated him every day, now there wasn't even a sign you were still in the same country, only Gard had told him how you were doing right now. 

"I just - I want them safe. I couldn't help Ava and I couldn't even save Jenny." he finally agreed, tears gathering in his eyes. "It's been years a-and sometimes I still question myself if there was something, anything I could have done differently, if I didn't make those movies and the music they would still be here." 

Kim knew he was still hurting, never really gotten over the death of his girlfriend and unborn daughter. She gathered him in her arms like the small boy he felt at the moment despite his age, rubbing her hands along his shoulder and back. "There was nothing you could have done, Ke, sometimes it's just - it's fate." 

"Fate's a cruel mistress." he mumbled, throwing the burnt out cigarette into the ashtray next to him, the wine glass still in his hand. 

Nodding her head, Kim laid a kiss on his dark hair so much her own. They had always been so close, he was there for her when she had been diagnosed with Leukemia, spend every day sitting next to her hospital bed and holding her hand, but she couldn't understand how he would act that way with a woman he barely knew, and still it shouldn't surprise her. Keanu barely knew Jenny and he told everyone she was the love of his life. There was a time when he had that exact look on his face, talking about Jennifer and the baby, that happy and smiling face. Now he had it again, but this time the woman wasn't even his. 

This time it was a woman, pregnant with another man's baby and her brother was totally in love with her. Kim just hoped Y/N would be able to wrap her head around it before he drew away from all of them, shutting himself off and only doing his movies. Their mother stood in the doorway to the balcony, listening to each word they had spoken. Patricia knew that he must have taken the young woman by surprise. She herself had been surprised when he talked about Y/N, a woman younger than him by twenty five years, the way he had talked about Jenny at that time, but she instantly knew that there would be more than just friendship in the future. His mother had yet to meet her, to really know who he was so infatuated with to be able to judge the situation. With that thought in mind she went back to Karina, who was standing in the kitchen trying to sort out what they would need for dinner that night. 

"What are they talking about?" her youngest daughter questioned, watching both siblings outside on the balcony of Keanus home. 

"Y/N, his life in general and how he secretly longs to be the father of her child." their mother said, sitting down at the kitchen isle. 

Nodding her head, the producer breathed out a sigh. "Okay, well I secretly long for something, too." she said, earning a raised eyebrow from the older woman. "My big brother doesn't have anything to eat in this house, meaning I need to go shopping for dinner." 

"Well then, let's get shopping, I have a quick errand to run, too." Patricia got off the chair while Karina let her two siblings know that they would go get some groceries. 

When she came back, the younger woman linked arms with her. "So, what's this errand you need to run?" 

***

"Are you sure you should be working?" 

Looking up, you saw Gard standing in the office doorway, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows raised. Sighing you turned back to the bills you had prepared for Laura so she only needed to send them off. "I'm not doing much, Gard, besides it's better than sitting at home."

He sighed, walking over to Laura's empty desk and taking her chair. Pulling it over to your side, the co-founder of ARCH sat down and watched you intensely. "When are you going to talk to him. You've both been walking around like zombies, you here and he up there in New York." he mutters throwing his hands up. "Did you know Keanu's been asking about you and the baby all the time because you don't update him anymore?" 

The question caught you of guard. You would have guessed with your display those weeks ago he would have been angry and you had to do all the groveling." I-I didn't know." you admitted, looking at your boss with wide eyes.

"He's done nothing but call or text so he had an update on your condition." Gard said, putting his hand on your arm. "That guy's crazy for you, Y/N." 

Groaning, you felt your daughter kick, obviously agreeing with him. Now nearly at the end of your pregnancy you already felt the so called Braxton Hicks, the pain in your lower belly as your body started to get ready for birth. Your midwife told you it was completely normal and that your baby would kick more than before because she didn't have as much space as when she had been smaller. 

"You okay?" he asked, putting his hand on your arm comfortingly. 

You nodded your head with a slight grimace when you felt a twinge in your back. "Yeah, just the baby playing soccer with my kidney and these mock contractions." 

"And you're sure those are just Braxton Hicks?" 

Rolling your eyes, you got up from the chair, well tried to get up, with a lot of difficulty before Gard helped you. "I'm sure, my midwife told me the signs, so I know that I still got a few weeks before this one" you pointed down at your large belly. "Is going to make an appearance." 

Putting his hands up in mock surrender, your boss grinned at you. "I was just making sure, not that I need to take you to the hospital now." 

Shaking your head, you walked out of the office and towards the main entrance, preparing everything for the client that would come in to get his bike tomorrow. When you came to the reception desk you stopped abruptly, causing Gard to nearly topple you as he walked into your back. He looked up to see what was going on when a smile crossed his features while your face was frozen in shock and the only thing flashing through your mind was 'Shit'.

"Patricia, Karina." your boss greeted the two women, signaling to Kelly at the desk to bring some coffee for them. "How have you been? Is Keanu home yet?" 

The older woman sent you a quick glance before a soft smile graced her lips. "He is. We're there for dinner at his house which reminds me." She patted his arm and made her way over to you. 

You felt your hands grow cold from anxiety and your spine tingle, like you needed to be ready to jump at any opportunity. It wasn't that Patricia Reeves was looking at you like she would murder you, right here in the entrance hall of ARCH, but still you felt nervous, after all you probably broke her only son's heart.

"Do you mind if we go somewhere a bit more - private, I don't want everyone to hear what we talk about." She laid her hand on your back and steered you to the offices, obviously having been there a lot of times. "I'm Patricia, by the way, Keanu's mother."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded wide eyed at her, not sure if you would be able to utter one sound. You were thankful when you finally reached the office again, sitting down at your desk and getting off of your swollen ankles. As happy as you were with your baby and the pregnancy, you would be even happier to get it over with. 

"I think you know what I want to talk about." 

"Y-Yes." you stuttered, wringing your hands together. "A-And I'm sorry how it must look like, that you mu-ust think I'm ungrateful." 

A quick laugh escaped her and his mother shook her head. "Believe me when I say I know my son better than anyone." 

"I know you do, every parent knows their child better than a stranger would."

Patricia eyes you rubbing your belly, knowing you were nervous around her. "Do you? Because then you wouldn't know that my son loves you." 

Biting your lip, you avoided her gaze, knowing you'd probably end up crying like a baby, like you did all those weeks ago. "H-He told me." 

"That he did, but you didn't answer, Y/N." she said so calmly you were afraid to utter any unnecessary words. "You haven't contacted him, why? I thought you were good friends despite everything." 

Cocking your head you bit back the groan as another wave of pain flashed through you. Why did it have to be now, when you were already mentally preparing your funeral once Patricia was done with you. "I didn't think he would -ah- want to talk to me."

His mother watched you carefully, leaning closer and putting her hand on your jean clad knee. "That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard. You love him, too, don't you?" 

"Please, don't curse, she can hear you." you mumbled and pointed at your bulging stomach, hoping that your baby wouldn't be born and her first word was 'shit'. "And yeah, I-I think so." 

With a chuckle and a shake of her head the older woman patted your knee. "Gosh, you young ones are so dumb sometimes. My son is so utterly in love with you, you can't even imagine. He's been so desperate to know about you and the baby that he called Gard every day. The one time I visited him in New York we walked by this shop that sold baby clothes and he stopped. Keanu stared at that little dress in that window, even before Ava died he never behaved like that. He was in love with his baby, but he didn't have that look."

You shifted, trying to find some relief from the constant sting in your lower half. "What look?" 

"The look of a proud father to be, so utterly in love again that he’d do anything for them." 

You shifted again and Patricia shot you a questioning look. "Are you alright, dear? I didn't mean to frighten you or make you uncomfortable." 

"N-No, it's not that." you admitted, putting your hands around your belly. "I've just been having these Braxton Hicks all day, but my midwife said it's normal." 

"Oh, that's not Braxton Hicks, darling." she said and you felt your eyes widen in surprise. "Those are contractions, I've had three kids, I know it when I see it." 

Another sharp pain went through you, fiercer and longer than the ones before, eliciting a pained moan from you. Leaning forward as good as you could to lessen the ache in your back, you felt a cramp, like the ones you usually get when you're on your period. Patricia got up, coming over to stand next to you.

"Do you feel like you need to bear down, like when you use the toilet?" she asked, calmly rubbing along your shoulders. 

Taking a deep breath you looked at Keanu's mother. "At the moment I feel like I really need to pee." you moaned, closing your eyes. 

"I think you'll be welcoming that baby today, honey." 

Shaking your head, you grabbed her hand. "It's too soon, I still got six weeks." you cried, but instantly felt a wet sensation between your legs. Patricia and you looked down, shocked at what was happening. 

"I think I just peed my pants." 

***

Kim and Keanu were pulled out of the comfortable silence when the doorbell rang. He turned to his sister with a raised eyebrow. "I thought mum and Kar have a key." 

"They do." his younger sister shrugged, not sure what to answer. 

Again the shrill tone sounded and the actor got up to investigate. If they couldn't wait that long it must be someone really desperate. When he reached the door he pulled it open, coming face to face with a hard breathing Gard. "Hey man, dinner's not until eight tonight, don't you have some bikes to take care of."

"Keanu, we gotta get to the hospital." 

All color drained from his face, not sure how to respond. "W-What happened? Who's"

"It's Y/N." his friend said, clapping him on his shoulder. "She's gone into labor, your mum and Karina are with her, but she's asking for you." 

Kim had come over, to see what the commotion was about. She, too, greeted the friend and co-owner, but when she saw the pale face of her brother turn to her, the former actress instantly knew something was wrong. "What's going on?"

"I need to take him to the hospital, Y/N has gone into labor and she's been asking for him." the mechanic explained and Kim rolled her eyes. 

She hit her brother's shoulder to get him out of his stupor. "What are you waiting for, she's asking for you and at the hospital. Get your ass into gear." she admonished, grabbing their light coats and pushed the actor out of his house.

He looked at her, fear mirroring in his brown pools. "What if" 

Kim interrupted him, holding her hand out as a sign for 'stop'. "Don't even finish that sentence. Y/N is going to be fine and so will be the baby, no matter if it's too soon. The baby is going to live." 

Keanu sat on the passenger's seat of Gard's truck, watching the scenery of Los Angeles rush by as they made their way to the hospital. Inside he was praying to every God he knew that both would survive it, that Y/N would be strong enough to handle the birth and that the baby would be living. He knew if something went wrong he wouldn't be able to live on, not for the second time.

Part 7

Taglist

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[aonrivers]

Pregnancy, Birth, Postpartum, and Baby Time! (TMI warning) - Part 02

In Part 01 I went over the truths about being pregnant. Now that the nine (really ten) months are over... Labor and Postpartum begins.

Labor and Postpartum Truths: 1) Not being able to eat sucks once you're admitted into the hospital. You seriously only get ice water like they say online. So make your last meal one that can hold you out until after birth. 2) Contractions feel like really bad period cramps. I'm sure there's some women who feel them worse, but that's all I got on the topic. I was numb for them most of the time. 3) To induce labor, at least for me, they shoved this "shoelace" thing up my you-know-what. As I said before, I was swollen down there, so any time my cervix was checked I was in a lot of pain, and this thing was no different. 4) Hospital rooms are not quiet. Between hearing everyone outside at the nursing station to the beeping in your room, you also have constant visits from nurses when all you wanna do is rest because you're basically waiting for labor to begin. 5) Water breaking isn't a "oh hey I think I peed myself". No. It's like a queef then GUSH and it doesn't stop until you and your bed are soaked. 6) Catheters are handy when you are bed rest and drinking gallons of water. Also, you get one when you get the epidural. Which they don't really tell you until the epidural is offered. 7) Take the epidural if you don't want to experience a natural and painful birth. I felt no pain leading up to labor. I did however feel a shit ton of pain when the pain relief ran out. They tell you it's because labor is all in your back - this excuse is bullshit. I was in so much pain when that shit wore off that my husband said my labor pain face didn't match this one. Once they take the tube out of your back, the pain fades away. But my back still hurts in that spot even as I type this. The pain in the spine also lingers after giving birth. Almost like you need your back seriously cracked. 8) The epidural needle doesn't really hurt if your pain tolerance is high for stuff like this. It's a pinch. What you do feel that is considered almost like a quick throbbing pain is when the fluid is injected. It's like a small punch to your back. 9) Projectile vomit will most likely occur. All the gallons of water you consumed waiting for labor will come projecting out of you before you go into active labor. Be glad your head doesn't start spinning. I up chucked three times and had to have myself redressed and my bedding changed out. 10) Some labor beds have built in handles to assist with labor. See if yours does. They helped a lot. 11) I tore two tiny spots inside my VJ giving birth. They stick a numbing agent where they see you'll be tearing, so that's cool and all - you'll feel it when you start being mobile again. BTW, some women tear bigger. Luckily my baby was only 7lbs. 12) You may not know your labor doctor. I met mine briefly the day before at my doctor's office, but never before that. Don't feel shy about being exposed in front of them though, they do this for a living. 13) Speaking of being shy. I am a prude with my body. I don't want people checking out my ass or having my nipples poking through my shirt on a cold day but all of this goes out the window when you're in the hospital to give birth and here's why. One: this is the doctor and nurse's job. They see boobs, ass, and vagina every day. And two: you're giving birth - who TF cares what you look like. 14) Pushing a baby out is not like pushing pee out. It's like taking the biggest shit of your life. You push with your asshole. Literally. And it causes hemorrhoids and for your ass to hurt WEEKS after giving birth. (Do yourself a favor and get some fiber enriched foods because pooping is not easy it pain free.) 15) Those home videos of the women giving birth don't exist anymore. It's pretty much illegal. I guess people were blackmailing the mother. Idk. That's what my nurse said. But they give you a big ass mirror to watch the birth of your baby so that's really cool. 16) Hospitals offer photographs of your newborn (unless you gave birth in 2020). It's usually expensive and I would've done it too if they offered. My husband got amazing shots of our daughter which I cropped out to make that oval baby picture our parents in the 80s got. 17) Taking pictures of your baby in the nursery is a big no no. I wish I could've seen my baby under the UV lamp with her glasses on to fix her jaundice, but I was bedridden with the pre-eclampsia. Hubby saw her though. He says she was just chilling while all the other babies were crying their heads off. FYI, the reason you can't take pictures is because of the other babies in there. They're not yours. You don't have the right to photograph them even if your baby is mixed in and she's the only one you want the picture of. 18) I wasn't told this until it came time... But they push your belly and I mean in your belly button and hard. They check if your uterus is shrinking and returning in place. (Breastfeeding helps it go faster.) This pushing hurts like a mofo. Seriously. And they don't care if you're in pain from, oh idk - THE EPIDURAL WEARING OFF! They are required to check. 19) My friend told me this which I think is important to know... When you're doped up on pain meds before birth or if you're having a really hard time during the labor process (time  you entered hospital to when the baby pops out), have someone with you. Have that person listen to the words coming out of the doctor and nurse's mouths. My friend didn't and took meds they gave her and was devastated when her baby came out gray and on the edge of death. She didn't know what they gave her or what they said about the meds. If she did, she would've known this would be the outcome of her child's birth (baby lived btw. He just graduated high school last year!) 20) Labor and Delivery nurses are freaking awesome. Postpartum nurses not so much... 21) The hospital food really isn't that bad. At least, it wasn't where I stayed. I had choices for breakfast, lunch, and dinner too! 22) Nurses can't technically tell you no to taking the baby to the nursery. Yes you need bonding time with your baby, but you also need rest. 23) The chair that pulls out into a bed for your partner is uncomfortable af. They have cots. Ask for one. 24) I couldn't have visitors. Make sure you don't either. It's nice. You don't gotta worry about appearance or staying awake for your guest. Birth is about you and your baby (and partner) and the time you have with them. Your guest can wait till you get home. 25) Back to the heartburn and hairy babies talk. This isn't really a myth. My baby came out with a full head of hair, hair on her ears, and fuzz all over her shoulders and back. At a month old it's going away, but that head of hair is real. And so was that heartburn!! 26) Bleeding after birth is like having your period back, but it goes on and on. It changes colors and has a gross smell to it. And wearing a pad again SUCKS! I do have to say though... That mesh underwear they give you is freaking awesome. I want some for my daily wear. 27) For a week or two, I felt like I was punched in the cooch. Walking hurt, getting up hurt, even bathing hurt (no baths until you heal btw, so I showered). Even now, a month later, I still feel pain down there when sitting a certain way (like Indian style). But what do I expect? A freaking baby was pushed out of me!! 28) After the six week heal time is up, don't expect sex to go back to normal. It still hurts for me but this time because of the bruising and stitches. 29) When it's time for sex, lube up. Breastfeeding and hormones still rampant don't assist in easy glide ins (if you know what I mean). 30) When the milk comes in, your boobs get bigger, harder, and start to ache. Feed feed feed or feed and pump. It's the only way to fix it. And don't be surprised when you wake up and your bed is stained with milk puddles because you're still sleeping naked to easily feed your little one at night. My side of the bed is disgusting, but ce la vie! It comes with the territory (like lack of sleep). 31) Also, sleeping on your side with milk filled boobs is not easy. It hurts. Go back to sleeping on your back because belly sleeping isn't comfortable either. 32) Everything you buy or received for your baby screams suffocation with it's warning labels. Don't let it get you paranoid like it did for me. Learn your babies habits and go with your instincts. They also sell baby breathing monitors that alert you if the baby stops breathing. 33) Outfits are cute and irresistible, but try to resist buying those newborn clothes. My baby grew out of them all within three weeks and wore only half of the clothes we had. Also, buy larger clothes - season conscious - that way you're ready when the baby starts growing out of their clothes. We had hardly any 3 month PJs, now her closet is over packed... 34) The baby may not sleep in their crib or bassinet right away. My girl would rather be on me or my husband than a cold bed. Seriously. They want your baby sleeping with nothing but a fitted mattress that's cold and a swaddle or wearable blanket. My baby hates swaddles and kicked too much with the wearable blanket. She sleeps with me for easy feeding and comfort - for me and her. I don't sleep much but slowly I've been getting my Z's and during the day I put her in the bassinet on her belly because I can watch her and she's amazing with that head support already. When she doesn't feed every 2-3 hours, she'll be spending more time on her own in her bed. So don't be discouraged if it's not working for you. It will happen. Just takes time. 35) Sound machine was a waste of a gift. Our phones have sound effects we can tune into. Google Home and Alexa even offer it. My baby doesn't like it, she'd rather listen to us or the TV. Also she doesn't like the dark until she's actually sleeping. She loves bright lights. They tell you the opposite online. 36) If your boobs are small, don't bother getting the shirts where you pull your boob through a window because it won't work. The shirts with the clip that drops to expose the breast are the best. Amazon has great prices and quality shirts on this. My one from Kohl's broke after wearing four times. 37) I really don't think those smiles are gas like they claim it to be. Sure some are. But when your kid smiles without passing gas, they're smiling because they're happy/content. 38) You'll probably end up missing your belly bump the first few weeks like I did. I kept thinking she was still in there. I mean, it's nine months carrying a creature in you. You get used to it. And lastly... 35) You get what you wished for. Any time I talked about having babies, I said keywords on what I wanted: a beautiful, healthy, happy, and smart baby. And I got just that. === So there it is. My journey, my tips, and my nitty gritty of it all of just pregnancy, labor, and postpartum alone!! There is so much more to being a mother; and that will continue in my part 03,04,05,etc to come. IDK how many there will be, only time will tell.

I will continue to update Part 01 and Part 02 when I remember more things.

As Part 03 is conjuring, I would like to say congrats if you're pregnant or gave birth already; and good luck if you're trying.