#HAVE TO SIT HERE.. AND PROCESS MY JOYFUL EMOTIONS…..

[asbestieos]

ASTA COME GET YOUR MAN !!!!!!!!

^ her ass is UNCONTROLLABLY SOBBING‼️

[fluffypotatey]

Fluffyyyyyyy 🥺🥺🥺 jump in the water!! 🌊 ✨ I would take the suffering from you 🎶 🤲 🔪 This. This right here ^^ I had saved for when I got a deliciously angsty idea to toss at you AND YET YOU THROW ONE AT ME RAHHH. I never considered having Wukong's body there but his soul is in the Diyuu INTERESTING. I can feel Macky's horror with that cryptic line as Wukong is all joyful not knowing the kind of scare Macky just experienced, and Macky slowly realizing, fighting with what this could mean but just thinking.......Wukong is becoming more unreachable to him. It's SUCH a foreboding scene of what is to come, of the distance between them. There's a certain emotional isolation as you process your friend's reaction and his smile is out of tune with your erratic heartbeat, those expressions of joy? the rhythm doesn't line up, clashing tunes, the moonlight on his fur on the beach as you sit in the shadows. You can only wonder what will become of him going forward, knowing his nature and what's been done. Where is the escape from this? It's reality. This just happened. Ugh 🥲 and my poor monkey absolutely about to breakdown, the sun's gone out, his light was too loud and bright, too everywhere, always moving around for something like this to even be imaginable. Wukong has never been so still, so silent before, even the lullaby of his stone heartbeat was so active and a comfort to sleep next to. What does it mean to lose your best friend, your only constant in life, the soul you cannot live alone without, to be the only one of your kind left? You grieve before you think of other demons tearing down his paradise. Yours has just snuffed out a breath away from you.

YES!!! YOU GET IT :)

the first real clash between the two in their relationship and it’s Wukong’s joy at cheating death again while Macky sits in horror at how wide their reach is growing 🥰

also my idea was inspired by this drawing from OSP’s first summary video on jttw

and this has just become my own interpretation of what happens when the Diyu takes you to the underworld. since the main reason you would be there is because you’re dead, and they just need your soul. what is an earthly body compare to a soul?

[nocturnalghoul]

I need words, use your words

I had this thought about Mountain dealing with Aether leaving while driving to work yesterday and quickly wrote the entire outline out before I forgot then wrote it on break :)

Summary: Mountain also has his own emotions about Aether leaving and the fact that he didn't tell him ahead of time. Sure Aether considered Dew's feelings but not his and Mountain looses his cool for a bit. AKA, I once again am on my "yeah Dew and Aether are close cause of their extended past, but Mountain was there too y'all." bullshit

Words: 1553

Hurt/comfort, no warnings

Read below the cut or on AO3 here if you prefer that

Mountain sits calmly as Aether stands giving the announcement that he will no longer be touring to the entire pack. From his position leaned against the back of the couch he can see that nobody looks completely surprised, suspicions and rumors already having traveled through the grapevine. 

Still, everyone expresses sentiments of how much they will miss his presence on tour, and promises to find time to spend alone with the quintessence ghoul before everyone else heads out. 

Mountain plays his part in the moment, but deep down he is pissed. That particular sentiment can wait for a less public occasion he decides, and slinks off back to the greenhouse.

He spends the remainder of the day trapped in his own mind, planning to talk to the quintessence ghoul later that night when the two of them can speak privately in Aether’s room. 

Dinner seems to last forever. Mountain casts occasional glances towards Aether in between talking to Cirrus and Cumulus about something the two ghoulettes seem very excited about, but he doesn’t quite understand. Either way it’s a nice distraction, and the joy on their faces when he indulges their interests is always rewarding on its own. 

Each time he looks over at Aether he can’t help but notice the deafening silence coming from Dew next to him. Aether does his best to engage him in conversation or at the very least entwine their tails but to no avail. At least he knows Dew is currently pissed enough that he will have the quintessence ghoul to himself tonight. 

Eventually all the other ghouls settle into their various plans for the night and Mountain is free to make his way to Aether’s room. 

He takes one final deep breath before knocking firmly on the door with the special knock the two had developed. He hears a cheerful “Come on in Mount” from Aether and opens the door with more force than necessary, stepping through the entryway before closing it again with a loud click and making sure to engage the lock. 

Aether’s face is open and joyful at first, however Mountain watches the way it falls once the other ghoul takes in the aggravated handling of the door and the earth ghoul’s sour expression. Worry begins to knit on Aether’s brow as Mountain lets the previously masked smell of his irritation, like rotten wood and sulfur, permeate into the air within the small room.

“We need to talk, Aether” Mountain states plainly, moving to sit on the end of Aether’s bed not waiting for any further invitation. 

He vaguely is aware of the way the bottoms of his pants flake mud onto the bedspread but can’t be bothered to care. 

“Listen, I know Dew has to be upset but I told him in advance so he would have extra time to process it all.” Aether starts defensively, guiltily avoiding eye contact with the angry ghoul. There is genuine remorse on his face, however it only serves to make Mountain even more irritated. 

“This isn’t about him, Aeth.” he retorts, voice steely.

Aether glances up at him in shock and the two simply stare at each other for a long moment. Mountain sees the violet shade of the quintessence ghoul’s eyes darken slightly as he fully realizes why Mountain is actually here. 

“I- Oh… Mountain I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that-”

“That’s exactly the problem, you never fucking do!” Mountain interrupts, momentarily losing his hard fought composure. He sees the soft buds of butterfly weed fall from where they have manifested throughout his hair. 

He forces himself to take a deep breath as he takes in the way Aether is sat across from him in stunned silence, allowing him the space to speak his mind. 

“I get it, you and Dew are close. You are both there together at the front of the stage on tour while I’m stuck in the back. You were there to directly heal him and pump him full of quintessence after his transition, meanwhile I could only support him emotionally and keep sentinel.” 

Mountain can see the way that Aether wants to interrupt and tell him he is important to the both of them too but holds up a finger to stop him. 

“You two have been through so much together, but both seem to forget that I was there for all of it as well. Dew will still have Rain up front with him, he will have Cirrus to bitch with on the bus, me to climb into bed with whenever the nightmares feel too real and only somebody who was there will calm him down. Dew will be more than fine.” 

Mountain holds that same finger up again and forces himself to breathe as he scrunches his eyes closed so tight momentarily it takes a second for everything to come back into focus when he opens them again. The tears beginning to well up in his eyes likely do not help that fact, but Mountain is set to ignore them as long as he can. 

“The issue is with us, Aether. In fact, fuck here I said it wasn’t about Dew and yet I still am here fretting about him. Once again I shove my own feelings aside for you two’s various bullshit. He is so much stronger than either of us give him credit for, meanwhile I feel like I’m crumbling to dust.” Mountain half shouts before leaning forward to bury his head in his hands. 

He feels Aether reach out to grab his leg, squeezing comfortingly and letting out a deep sigh. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time.” Aether finally mutters out, voice lightly laced with shame and the barest hint of embarrassment that nobody but Mountain or Dew would likely pick up on. 

“You didn’t tell me at all really. I found out from Rain. I’ve been waiting for the entire last week to see if you would tell me yourself and only finding out when you told everyone as if we all didn’t know already felt disrespectful.” Mountain spits out, not quite done being angry yet. 

Aether shoots him a mournful look. “I don’t know what you want from me, Evergreen” 

Mountain fully breaks down at the use of the pet name only him and Dew use, tears falling rapidly as his body is wracked with sobs. 

“I don’t want anything from you, I’m just fucking hurt. I am sick and tired of feeling like an afterthought.” he manages to choke out before shifting to collapse fully into Aether’s already open arms. 

The quintessence ghoul pulls him into a crushing hug, leaving him feeling so small and delicate in his strong grip. The two sit there like that for a while, the only sound sneaking through past Mountain’s wailing the occasional tick from the clock across the room. 

After several minutes Mountain’s breathing finally levels out and Aether slightly loosens his grip for the first time in order to unhook his chin from the earth ghoul’s shoulder and look him in the eye. “I love you so much, Evergreen, just as much as I love Dew. Please know this.” he whispers, trying not to break the first moment of calm since Mountain walked in. 

Mountain shrugs off Aether’s arms and retreats back to his original spot across from him, brushing the small flecks of dirt he left behind earlier off the bed. 

“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I realistically know that you, as well as Dew and the rest of the pack love me, but I feel like you never say it first Aether. It’s like you only ever say it back to me.” Mountain admits, picking out the small purple hyacinths spread throughout his hair now. 

He catches a glimpse of Aether’s face and it's clear he recognizes the sudden interest in the flowers for the avoidance tactic it is but lets it slide. 

Once all the flowers are gone he looks back up at the quintessence ghoul and finds him staring, waiting patiently for Mountain to be ready to continue. There is a spark in his eye that Mountain knows means he has thought up an idea he is proud of.

Aether invites Mountain to stay the remainder of the night with him, giving the two of them a chance to simply exist in one another's close company, but also hints that he will make plans for tomorrow. 

The two of them agree that after chores tomorrow, Aether would meet Mountain at the main greenhouse and whisk him away to plan out a night for just the two of them. 

Mountain feels a small amount of the negativity he had been carrying around all week chip and crumble away at the suggestion. 

“I’m still hurt, however I’ll gladly take the olive branch you are extending, Starlight” he concedes. 

Mountain watches as Aether’s posture straightens momentarily with excitement as he picks the small crop of olives that manifested at the base of Mountain’s horns out and places them on the nightstand with a light chuckle. 

The two spend the remainder of the evening curled up chatting, not a singular care about anything outside of those four walls. The issue at hand could never be resolved so simply, but both would agree that it is an enjoyable start. 

[xxnashiraxx]

for the fic writer questions: 2, 14, 29, 39, 43, 54, 72! ❤️❤️

Thank you for asking, my love 🖤🖤🖤 You can find the original post here!

2. Do You Plan Each Chapter Ahead or Write as You Go?

Look, I'm not really a "details" person, lol. I have always been shit at planning, which usually turns out to be my Achilles heel. I've gotten really lucky with this story- I've outlined the very basics and noted down key events and plots I'd like to unfold and write during the duration, but mostly I've just started and not stopped writing- thank god this game has quests or I'd be dead in the water. I work around the natural progression of the game, toss in some tropes and silly little things and dialogue, and hope it all works out, and so far it's done just that! I will say this is the most organized I've ever been in writing, and I'm really pleased with what I've done so far- this is the best work I've ever done, and I'm really proud of it. 🖤

14. How Do You Write Emotional Scenes? Do You Ever Feel What the Characters Feel? Do You Draw From Personal Experiences?

I love writing emotional scenes, they can be gut wrenching or joyful and I like to try and emulate what I'd feel when the characters I'm writing about are experiencing those things. I have a lot of angst history, unfortunately, but that's been great in helping me realize what happens to me when I go through those feelings. I like to touch on the senses- smell, sight, sound, touch, all of that. I try to immerse myself in it all like how a panic attack can leave you scattered and how your chest feels tight and that there's not enough breath in your lungs, or how a kiss can make you feel like there are butterflies in your stomach (cliche, but hey it happens) alongside the less glamorous descriptions of sweating profusely and feeling like everything is on fire. Emotional scenes weren't always my strong suit, but I've never looked at them through the lens of how I would feel in that moment, and doing so has really helped me improve.

29. What's Your Revision or Editing Process Like?

This is also pretty scattered! I was smart enough this time around to plan out my fic before I started writing, and in doing so, I spent April to the end of July of this year writing out nearly all of Act 1 for my fic without posting or uploading anything. Now that we're in October, I'm nearing the end of everything I've written, and up until this point, I've taken the week between chapter postings to polish and tweak the third drafts of all the chapters (that had already gone under extensive editing during those 4 months) and sometimes re-write things entirely. It's taken a lot of my free time, hence my shift to an every-other-week release, and as I finish posting all my pre-done material, I will now be writing a chapter the first week and going through edits the second week before posting. I don't plan on burning out, but there's always the chance the release schedule could shift again to accommodate more for my time and best work. 😊

39. Share a Snipper from a WIP.

Aww, I simply cannot resist 🖤 Have some angsty Chapter 12 from With Stars to Fill My Dream stuff since all the snippets I've been posting this month have been horny, lol.

He holds her until she yawns and he guides her back to her tent, a soft trembling laugh tickling his ear when she stumbles over her bedroll. He sits next to her as she gets tucked in, long hair fanned out around her flushed face, while some savage creature tears and gnashes at his chest from within. “Astarion?” “Hmm?” “Sorry about earlier.” He peers into her eyes, watching them grow foggy. “When, darling?” “In the windmill. I… it was really silly of me. I didn’t know how you felt, and I let that… uhh… word? Get in the way? I guess…” She laughs and there’s amusement in her eyes, the alcohol slurring her words. “Anyway, I usually don’t fall for people this fast, I just didn’t want to mess up what was going on between us with my feelings. You just want sex, though, so I don’t have to worry about those anymore.” Oh. He should leave before she reveals any more secrets she intends to keep. Yet… he can’t help wanting to hear them. Part of him wants them like he wants power, like he wants leverage. The other… lingers on the fall-for-people line, the words stuck behind his eyes as she looks at him and continues on. “But we can't do that. I'm sorry that I can't tell you yes,” She smiles, too far gone to realize she should probably shut her mouth. “I misunderstood big time, but I promise I don’t feel that way anymore. You don't want me that way, so we're just friends. We'll never be anything else...” She closes her eyes, exhale shaking out of her lungs with a weary rattle. He sits until her breathing evens and stares at her, odd warring emotions unfolding beneath his ribs. He's confused- confused at what she said, at what she meant, at why she sounded like she was hiding the truth away from him as she spoke, and perhaps even from herself... The creature savages it all, making him finally tear his eyes away. Before he can stop himself he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, before leaving and disappearing into the night.

43. Do You Take A Sadistic Joy in Whumping Your Characters, or Are You More the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" Kind of Person?

Kind of both, lol. I love making them all stupid and broken and then healing them and taking that all away- it's really very cruel, but I'll be damned if they get too comfortable. I would love to take mercy on them, but I'm not a merciful god. :(

54. What's Your Favorite Part About the Fanfiction Writing Process?

I just love thinking of how I could give more depth to situations that I felt could have used it, or grow bonds between characters where I saw a lack of before. I love the imaging part- I usually do this with a bit of music (which, fun fact, is the only reason I'm writing my long fic, thank you Crazy on You by Heart) and I sit and immerse myself in the sounds and lyrics as I think about how they could apply to the situation I'm thinking about and it all comes together. I've planned many scenes in my writing this way and gotten inspiration from them. 🖤

72. What Order Do You Write In? Front of Book to Back? Chronological Favorite Scenes First? Something Else?

I sit at my desk and just go at it, man. I have that loose plan, those key scenes in mind, and I try to fill the gaps in between! I always try to stick to chronological order and go from there, but there have been a few times I've written out a future scene and I love coming up on them when I hit that point only to take a wrecking ball to them sometimes, but at least I had the bones to start and that really helps. 💗💗💗

Thank you for asking, again! I really love doing things like this 🖤🖤

[sinigangsta-ao3]

Top 10 Films (plus a bunch of honorable mentions)

Much love and gratitude to @onigiri-dorkk for the tag! This was so much fun to do and (not going to lie) lightweight stressful 😅

So, real talk. One of the most challenging questions I get asked is What is your favorite movie?

Why? Because I freaking love movies. SO MUCH. I'm certain that there is some nostalgic piece to it: watching movies as a child was always a joyful activity, and — as my siblings and I grew up — family outings to the movie theatre were highlights of our summers.

(Now that I think about it, it probably has to do with the fact that my family came from limited means: spending time at the movies was a lower-cost option for us to escape reality, especially when we weren't able to go on vacations like my peers did. But I digress.)

Anyways, I LOVE MOVIES. As a visual medium, as a storytelling device. I will give almost any movie and any genre a chance (yes, even horror and extreme gore, although I have to really build myself up to get in the right mindset to watch it). I love learning about the filmmaking process, from the movie's technical aspects, to the nuances of its cinematography, to the director's and actors' psychological mindsets when approaching the film's creation. And nothing gives me more joy than being able to talk at length about movies I've watched with other people (watching and talking about movies together is probably my husband's and my shared love language, now that I think about it).

So, after spending a lot more anxious energy than I anticipated behind building this list, here are my top 10 films (plus a bunch of honorable mentions).

(Side note: I've listed them in alphabetical order because, while I've solidified that these are — indeed — my favorite 10 films ever, please do not ask me to stack rank them because it would be like asking me to pick my favorite child. I just love them all in their own ways, for very different reasons 😭)

—

Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022)

This film made me feel every emotion on the spectrum. I laughed. I cried. I clutched my chest in fear. I whooped. I was, ultimately, astounded at every minute. The mechanics of the multiverse are so unique, but — honestly — what I loved most was the fact that I actually felt seen, like my lived experience was depicted on-screen for one of the first times in over 30 years. I saw my parents in Waymond and Evelyn; I saw myself in Joy. And seeing my own emotional truths reflected back to me was enough to cement this as one of my favorite movies I've ever watched.

—

Get Out (2017)

I am usually not one to sit through horror movies (while I will give everything a chance, it takes a bit more effort to convince me, especially if it has horror elements). But THIS ONE...! Disclaimer: I am a non-Black person of color. But growing up in the U.S., one becomes viscerally aware (or not, depending on your vantage point and privilege) of race and how it influences even the seemingly most innocuous interactions between racial groups. I loved how Peele was able to take everyday microaggressions and tease them out into true racialized horror — it's the one horror movie that I gladly return to!

—

Jurassic Park (1993)

One of my comfort movies that really shouldn't be a comfort movie, lol. True, there are some plot holes. But I adore this film and its commentary on the rapid progression of technology, ethics in science, power, dominion, and the very real human folly of trying to control something that is beyond our understanding. Dr. Ellie Satler is the GOAT. And I still get chills when they first see the brachiosaurus with that John Williams score playing in the background.

—

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

I remember that my husband wanted to watch this, and that I was a bit "meh" about it. And then, when we left the movie theatre, I was FLOORED by how much I enjoyed this...! In truth, I came in thinking that it was going to be a complete "sausage fest," but it completely subverted my expectations. It touches on a lot of themes that I gravitate toward in stories that I both consume and write: freedom, redemption, community, the fight against oppression. This entire movie was an adrenaline rush, and — once I saw that flame-throwing electric guitarist shredding across the barren desert — I knew that this world and its visuals would stick with me forever.

(side note: this is also why I'm unhealthily invested in @astyraea's warlord eremika AU, "i killed the sun for you." read it if you haven't yet!)

—

The Matrix (1999)

A freaking sci-fi cinematic classic! Yes, the visuals and special effects are groundbreaking. But what really sticks with me with this film (and why it's in my top 10) is the foundational exploration of reality and the tension between free will and predestination, between nature and nurture. Honestly, I do think that the messianic allegory gets a little unruly as the franchise progresses — but this first movie alone continues to shake me to my core.

—

Mean Girls (2004)

Would I even be a millennial if this movie wasn't on my list? Sure, there are jokes that are now problematic. But, in general, this movie is one of the most formative films of my peer group/my generation. It's our equivalent of "The Breakfast Club" or "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." I still quote it incessantly. I still always giggle when I wear pink on Wednesdays or when October 3rd comes along. But, most importantly, it just makes me laugh. And reminds me of simpler times in my life.

—

Moulin Rouge! (2001)

Seeing the majority of the movies on this list so far, you'd probably think that I'm an action and/or sci-fi movie junkie. Which, sure, I do love a great action flick. But, in my heart of hearts, I am a musical theatre kid, and the one movie musical that I adore wholeheartedly is "Moulin Rouge!" The forbidden romance! The odes to creativity and poetry and love! The absurdly lavish sets and costumes! The Broadway-fied pop tunes!! Add on the tragic ending (spoiler, but c'mon - this movie is over two decades old), and it's the perfect mix of all my favorite outlandish tropes in one movie.

—

My Cousin Vinny (1992)

Okay, this one may seem out of left field, but this is truly a movie that I never get sick of. I remember that my dad put it on for my family one random evening when I was a teen, and it has stuck with me since. Not only is it hilarious (Joe Pesci's brazenness works seamlessly here), but it is also a surprisingly poignant exploration of how bias affects the U.S. justice system. ALSO, Marisa Tomei as Mona Lisa Vito is PERFECTION. Yes, her wardrobe is TO DIE FOR. But, more importantly, her climactic witness testimony as a "general automatic expert" is a beautiful middle finger to misogynistic assumptions everywhere.

—

Ratatouille (2007)

I love Disney, and I love Pixar. So the fact that this is the only Disney and/or Pixar movie in my top 10 is kinda mind-boggling. But "Ratatouille" is BY FAR my favorite Pixar film, to this day. I realize that I am very much drawn to the story of the underdog, seeing how they're able to accomplish their dreams when systemic realities prevent them from being able to do so. A rat as a chef?! The concept itself is so silly, yet so charming. And the fact that he overcomes the "villain" (the "evil" food critic) by cooking him something so heartwarming it reminds him of home?! Ugh, it warms my heart and my tummy rumble with hunger just thinking about it.

—

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

Okay, I know there are a lot of Marvel superhero movies out there, and I love them all in their own way. But none — NONE! — come close to the genius that is "Into the Spider-Verse." Technically speaking, the animation is BREATHTAKING, so seamlessly blending different styles as all the different universes converge. And the attention to detail just blows my mind! (One of my and my husband's favorite behind-the-scenes facts is that, until Miles fully embraces his powers, he's animated at a frame rate of 12fps, while the rest of the movie is animated at 24fps. This slight difference depicts him as slightly choppier, "less refined" than the rest of the universe, until he truly "becomes" Spider-Man — the scene in the above GIF is the first moment when Miles is also animated at 24fps.) Plus, while I love Peter Parker and the myriad of iterations that have come up over the past decades, it was really refreshing to see Miles Morales' story being told — and diverse representation is always a plus for me.

—

Runner-Ups for Top 10:

(I'm including these here because I literally kept going back and forth for maybe 30 minutes to figure out where they should sit in my top 10 😭)

10 Things I Hate About You (1999): the superior 90s teen movie and modern-day Shakespeare adaptation

Pride & Prejudice (2005): my ultimate comfort movie; this is what romance is

—

Honorable Mentions:

(These are other movies that came up as I was thinking through what films I love. I warned you at the beginning: this was a very difficult exercise for me to do lol, and I am just way too damn indecisive to fully commit haha.)

(500) Days of Summer (2009): amazing nonlinear storytelling and excellent subversion of the manic pixie dream girl trope

Atonement (2007): the tragic romance! that green dress! the library scene!!!

Bridesmaids (2011): raunchy comedies are my guiltiest pleasure, and I especially love them when the women are messy and problematic with minimal judgment

Clueless (1995): highly quotable, hilarious yet earnest; plus, young Paul Rudd as the goofy former stepbrother with whom she falls in love <3

The Dark Knight (2008): I love many, many, MANY superhero movies, but this will forever remain the blueprint for a top-tier, live-action superhero movie

The Devil Wears Prada (2006): a staple of the mid-2000s; the wardrobe STILL lives in my mind rent-free, and the Meryl Streep-Anne Hathaway-Emily Blunt trifecta is unmatched

The Little Mermaid (1989): while this may not be the most progressive movie, it is so magical — this was little Nina’s favorite (and Howard Ashman did that with the soundtrack)

Tangled (2010): a criminally underrated Disney Animation Studios movie, honestly; love this movie for many reasons, but ESPECIALLY the lantern scene and Mandy Moore as a Disney princess

When Harry Met Sally (1989): a rom-com classic and, truly, the ultimate template of friends to lovers and slow burn love

[melinda-internetart]

Glitch: For my glitch piece, I decided to use my digital art I made a few years ago of an angry man in a tie in Adobe Illustrator as an image. I used tools such as displace filter and scanline effect in Photoshop to shift pixels in broken, chaotic ways to create a sense of anger and emotional chaos and a thin horizontal lines that stretch across my artwork symbolizing disruption and fragmented emotions. I also adjusted the hue and saturation to create bold, distorted red tones to manage my image to express the intensity, anger, and emotional heat. If I had more time, I would further explore layering techniques, experimenting with additional textures and glitches to intensify the chaotic feel of the piece. I’d also would have added audio elements, such as distorted sounds or static, to complement the visual disruption and deepen the emotional impact.

Distortion: For my distortion piece, I used another one of my digital arts I made in Adobe Illustrator of a sad man sitting on the floor. This time, I used Photomosh and began exploring its 27 effects. The moment I clicked the mosh button, the software started to give all kinds of effects. After experimenting, I found an effect that resonated most with the emotional tone of my artwork. I decided to save the image randomly during the distortion process, which gave me the chance to maintain a moment where the emotional difference and visual glitch aligned perfectly. This resulted in the fluid, wave-like distortions around the figure, representing the progress of my character’s emotional state and the broken down of his form under the weight of his sadness. If I had more time, I would capture multiple stages of the distortion effect and arrange them into a GIF in order to further emphasize the shifting, unstable emotions that my artwork is going through.

Datamoshing: For my datamosh, I also used one of my digital artworks from Adobe Illustrator of a happy little girl smiling. I used an app called Glitch Lab that takes my original illustrator artwork of a happy, smiling little girl and distorts it into a fragmented, glitchy expression of joy. In using Glitch Lab, I experimented with different preset effects until I found one that perfectly suited the datamoshing technique. The datamosh effect here breaks the smooth digital aesthetic into pixelated, fractured shapes while maintaining the quality of the little girl' happiness. By allowing parts of the girl's face and body to scatter, while keeping her facial features recognizable, I really like how the effect help create a sense of joyful chaos, symbolizing happiness spilling out in uncontrolled ways. If I had more time to develop this piece, I would have explore different color palettes within the glitch effect, such as adding neon or contrasting colors, to see how changes in the visual vibrancy might affect the emotional tone of happiness.

[invisiblerambler]

I have an incredibly complex relationship with the city state and region where I grew up.

Especially when it comes to the way that people clearly, whether they know it or not imply I escaped in some way.

Which to be clear I did. What I did and how I accomplished it was exceedingly calculated and all I had wanted for as long as I can remember.

But it also makes my stomach hurt because a lot of people aren't that lucky or they don't choose to leave. I have a multitude more compassion for those people than I once did. In some ways I envy the way they were able to grow in the place they were planted in a way I never could.

I guess if you consider me from California than I'm growing where I was born but not where I was planted.

Regardless, I feel this overwhelming need to explain and defend where I'm from now that I've left.

For better and worse I feel a fondness now I never could before. I would not thrive there. I should not live there full time probably ever again but I feel indebted to the ways it shaped me.

It's influence on me feels outsized now in positive and negative ways. Finally being in an environment entirely culturally different and removed from that I have room to heal a lot of things. I've been away over a year but LA was culture shock in a way that gave me ultimate perspective.

The familiarity makes me want to go back. The shock to my nervous system of doing everything I never have has been a constant fight to not want to drop everything and move back (even if that realistically isn't an option).

Going back would mean shutting up all the voices including the one coming from inside my own body about the 20ish years I spent there.

Living through this season has been extraordinarily complex. I miss so many things I never expected and frankly took for granted now being away going on two years.

On one hand I would not trade any of what I have now. I am living the life that any version of me until very recently wouldn't have dreamed of, on the other hand the grief I feel is immense and sometimes I don't know where to put it or how to hold both in my hands.

I have said yes to so much this summer. In a good way. I have so many opportunities at my fingertips and I want to take advantage of all of them as much as I can. But that has definitely come at the price of avoidance. When you're too busy to think it's easier to let things fall by the wayside. Bury the emotional flashback and use new experiences as an excuse to heal your inner teen instead of sitting with the emotions that brings up.

This summer has been healing. I am swimming in the grattitude of the people that got me here and the position I find myself in.

I also am trying not to drown in the realization of everything I put to the side to get here. I let a lot of things go unprocessed or more accurately processed them only enough to get to where I needed to be.

My body isn't allowing that anymore. Everything is painfully near the surface and I'm trying to cover up the scar tissue.

I'm not sure how I'll look back on this period of time. I have had the summer of my life. One of the best and most exciting I have ever had and holding that with the knowledge of how much I am processing frankly sucks. I want this to feel joyful and uncomplicated. I want it to feel good and fulfilling and healing. I know life isn't that way. I know that I am reaching a point if I haven't already where I need to consider what my life might look like and not just my career.

I don't know how to live if my career isn't at the center. If it isn't the fight of my life to get what I want. To let something else take the front seat. I am excited and terrified to find out. I am not changing completely my career is still for better or worse vastly important to me, but I don't think I need to fight for it for a second. I can let things unfold with gentle guidance instead of active steering. It will all be fine.

[musicarenagh]

Introducing an Exclusive Chat with Artist Katelyn Paige Have you ever come across a song that feels like a journey through love’s rollercoaster? Katelyn Paige’s “Miles to You” captures that ride perfectly. It’s the soundtrack to every emotion you’ve experienced in pursuit of that special connection. You can cry to it, you can jam in your car—it’s a double win. Paige’s ability to blend her lyrics with the song's changing vibes is magnetic. Her vocal range is consistently impressive, making her stand out. And she’s not stopping here; we’re all eager to see what’s next in store from her. Today, we've got a chance to sit down with Katelyn Paige, also known as KPZ, and Mister Styx of Musicarenagh, to dive deeper into her music and the inspiration behind her captivating sound. Listen to Miles to you below https://youtu.be/tkscXowJVeU Follow Katelyn Paige on Youtube Tiktok What is your stage name KPZ Is there a story behind your stage name? I got my stage name from my best friends growing up. They always called me that, and it just stuck. It's all about those tight bonds and good times we had together Where do you find inspiration? find inspiration in life's ups and downs, channeling my emotions into my music What was the role of music in the early years of your life? Music has been my lifelong companion. I began singing before talking, rounding up cousins for family musicals. Wrote raps in 5th grade for commercials, always rocked talent shows with my voice. It's been a joyful journey from the start! Are you from a musical or artistic family? Not at all. My dad was a music junkie though. Had so many CD’s and music always playing around the house .. even the bathrooms. My grandma can sing too Who inspired you to be a part of the music industry? My mom . She always told me to follow my dreams How did you learn to sing/write/to play? Honestly just by the feeling of it. Music feels like apart of my soul . I did take vocal lessons with Mama Jan studios in 2021 and learned how to do my warm-ups and a few scales. What was the first concert that you ever went to and who did you see perform? Jingle Ball, Justin Bieber! How could you describe your music? It's a mix of pop, hip hop, rap, and a dash of Southern charm. It's a vibe that's all its own Describe your creative process. My creative process starts with a feeling, lots of work, and ends with a song. My producer sets the vibe, and I add the lyrics. It's all about capturing the emotion and making it into music. [caption id="attachment_53250" align="alignnone" width="1440"] My creative process starts with a feeling, lots of work, and ends with a song.[/caption] What is your main inspiration? My fans What musician do you admire most and why? I admire Alicia Keys the most because she creates amazing music with deep lyrics, and her style is classy. Did your style evolve since the beginning of your career? Definitely Who do you see as your main competitor? I don’t really “compete” with anyone . Im more of a collaborative type person . So Katelyn Paige vs KPZ What are your interests outside of music? Outside of music, I love playing with my dog Otis, having wine nights, dancing, throwing parties, and getting into decorating and organizing. If it wasn't a music career, what would you be doing? Probably dentistry full time or competing on a Worlds team for competitive cheerleading What is the biggest problem you have encountered in the journey of music? Not knowing the business side in the beginning as well as should have. If you could change one thing in the music industry, what would it be? Social media populace being a priority over great music . Why did you choose this as the title of this project? Gin & Toxic? Drinking to kill the buz of a toxic relationship. & i thought it was cleaver like Gin & Tonic What are your plans for the coming months? Releasing 1 song every month Do you have any artistic collaboration plans Not yet What message would you like to give to your fans?

Hey! Thanks for the love! Follow me on socials for the latest and greatest tunes. Stay tuned—it's about to get lit!

[pastorsperspective]

Never Walk Alone

It’s that time again. Time to reflect on things we learned from Sunday’s sermon. Things we’ve hopefully thought about throughout the week, pondered, questioned… If you missed it, you can watch the service here: https://fb.watch/nTAAwqsWLy/ A special Thank You to Mrs. Laura Rothe for assembling and directing the bell choir, The Joyful Ringers!

The message this week focused on the importance of taking care of yourself. Having balance, health, wholeness, and holiness in our lives. Of all the things you mentioned and all the ways that you suggested we use to take care of our spirit, body, and mind; I noticed one common theme and was fully prepared to ask about it. Then a funny thing happened. Someone else submitted the same question and it made me laugh because we don't get a lot of question submissions for one, and two, it was exactly what I was going to ask. So, for myself and at least one other person out there: Of all the ways you suggested self-care, you mentioned taking a walk four times. Is there some biblical significance or special importance to taking a walk?

Great question! So, certainly there was a LOT of walking in Biblical times and even Jesus demonstrates taking a walk alone at times to pray and be with God. But this was mentioned more because taking a walk is such an easy and accessible act that hits on all of the areas of Good Medicine mentioned. When we take a walk, we are acting physically, the rhythmic pattern of steps can be a pattern for prayer and finding comfort in the constant and consistent stepping. Walking allows the mind time to process in an emotionally healthy way because the act does not require full attention. The mind can process and think through emotions. Walking and crying, yelling, etc… can be very therapeutic and allow emotional health to flourish while at the same time thinking about fond memories, lost loved ones, and appreciating present loved ones can be done also which can be very powerful! As a Native I often sing Native hymns and Christian hymns while I walk, which is therapeutic and healthy on many levels! Walking is just such a great first step to finding balance and holiness. 

I completely agree. This year has been a big one for me regarding self-care and walking has been at the core of it for mental, physical, and spiritual health. For all the reasons you stated. I can listen to music while doing it, be alone with my thoughts and prayers, cry, scream- if need be, or simply enjoy nature around me if I’m outdoors or the virtual sights I can see if I’m indoors. I have seen places virtually this year that I will probably never get to see in my lifetime, and have re-visited one that I have been to and it has been a wonderful adventure. If anyone is interested, I use an app called The Conqueror to take virtual hikes all over the world and have traversed 580 miles so far this year through Israel, Holland, New Zealand, Germany, Los Angeles; and am currently hiking my way through the Amazon Rainforest in Brazil via my living room treadmill. There’s a mental clarity that comes when you shut everything else out and just take a walk with yourself, with your thoughts, with God…

However you choose to take the best care of yourself in your quiet time, know that you are never alone. I know that on my walks, I am never walking alone. When you read, when you go for a drive to clear your head, when you sit by the water or just stare off into space. You are never alone. Just like the song says:

I have never walked alone I’ve never been abandoned You are my inheritance You are my strength and shield And I have confidence You go before me You’re my deliverer I know I never walk alone

So, whatever you do today, do it with the peace and confidence of someone who knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is walking right there beside you. If you enjoy contemporary worship music, please take a listen to this song from Hillsong Worship.

Never Walk Alone

[i-prescribe]

You have probably eaten enough Easter egg to bring you to the edge of a diabetic coma, so while we are at the “I m never eating chocolate again” stage, use this to kick start your new eating regime in preparation for the Summer reveal.

Here are a few “lean laws”  to help you on your way.

Be positive, a positive thought process and thinking lean and healthy will help you on your way to your goal. Every time you eat, repeat the mantra “Every meal controls my blood sugar, feeds my muscles  and makes me lean”

Set realistic goals. New eating habits must mature into a way of life , on Monday set a goal for that week  and in your journal for life, keep a note on how you are getting on . Write Today and everyday I will eat breakfast.

Review  , problems and how to overcome them and set a new goal . Add it to your list and work on one new change or tweak.

Seek support from others and give yourself  permission to say no thank you  to foods you know are not good for you. Not fueling you , or are making you feel guilty. Do not feel shy about turning down blood sugar soaring foods, feel proud for making changes and sticking to your goals

Prepare your meals,to suit your lifestyle, ingest – chew your food, digest – food that releases slowly and takes a little longer to digest will satisfy us longer and give us more energy when  assimilated. Discipline yourself .

Spirit , mind and body need to be integrated, Spirit is our conscience, the mind governs thoughts emotions and will and the body responds to the physical needs , pain and pleasure. All three need to agree for success . The mind gets caught between the body and the spirit, so find a way to convince the mind to do the right thing. Every time you  lose your resolve, Close your eyes , inhale and exhale  deeply through the nose 7 times and on each inhale repeat to yourself , I can do this because I will feel better and stronger for longer

To properly fuel the body , know what to do. Everybodies calorie needs are different. Each meal should be 3 to 4 hours apart and should contain , protein for amino acids to maintain healthy muscle, high fiber low glycemic carbs to maintain healthy blood sugar and healthy cell activity and healthy fats to help maintain hormonal activity.

This is a little nudge fpr those of you who struggle it is not a one size fits all but one size does not fit all.... develo0 a sense of wellbeing learn how to fuel for your life . Male it wotk and teach your kids how to cook and not fear or rush food.... sit down for meals at a table , not on the fly..... if you can have at least one meal a day where you sit witj family a friend or even your pet and interact with them.... food as a joyful experience should not be missed but crucially it is what keeps us alive and functioning on so many more levels than feeding a hunger pang or a memory. Food! my loves, is medicine..... on all the planes

. Love life , eat , drink, be merry and try new things new tastes , mix it up and have fun

[klarity-jane]

Say "Thank Me" Now: 6 Featured Switchword Combos for Self-Appreciation

As I sit down to write this article, I realize how much I have achieved in my life. I've overcome many obstacles and learned so much, yet it is so easy to forget all of that and focus on the negatives. It is important to take a step back and appreciate ourselves for who we are and what we have accomplished.

Self-appreciation is not something that comes naturally to many of us. We often focus on our shortcomings and failures, rather than celebrating our victories. Truthfully, self-appreciation is crucial for our mental and emotional well-being. When we give constructive attention ourselves, we are more confident, more motivated, and more resilient.

So how can we cultivate self-appreciation? Here are 6 switchword combinations that can help:

1. COUNT-BLESSINGS-NOW: Stimulates concentration on the good things in life, rather than the bad. When we count our blessings, we realize how much we have to be thankful for, and increase the value in ourselves for our steadfast effort and dedication.

2. JOYFUL-SERENITY: Impresses the framework for inner peace and happiness. When we feel joyful and serene, we can readily acknowledge ourselves for being able to allow happiness in the present moment.

3. LOVE-WORTHY-DIVINE: Prompts recognition of our own worth. When we see ourselves as divine beings endowed with love and respect, we cherish ourselves for who we truly are.

4. HAPPY-SUCCESSFUL-NOW: Mindfully fosters value in ourselves. When we feel happy and fortunate in the here and now, we applaud ourselves for our ability to create a fulfilling life.

5. THANKS-SUCCESS: Cues reverence to celebrate triumphs. When we give thanks for our masterpieces, we give credit to our contributions and dedication.

6. I-AM-BRILLIANT: Guides us to be aware of our own brilliance and potential. When we affirm that we are organically brilliant, we honor our naturally exceptional selves.

Fundamentally, self-appreciation is an essential aspect of our well-being. When we genuinely value ourselves, we are better able to cope with the challenges of life; thereby paying more attention to experiencing higher joy and happiness in the now. By adopting these 6 switchword combinations, we can elevate the cultivation of self-appreciation and engender greater satisfaction. This is a substantial process to be orchestrated within, not by external influences. Remember, you are warranted of adoration just as you are.

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Too good to be true

I really can’t believe I'm writing this. Lost the screenshot of the request (Sent in two parts…)

But this was the idea (my summary).

Oda falls for you, and Dazai likes you, but the reader is part of Mimic (but also the decay of angels, if I understood right?) but there's more. Let's change a key point in the story to make it even more heartbreaking... aka you're the one who gets oda killed by spilling the information, and then let's have Ango tell Dazai because you're already far outta Yokohama.

Oh, the pain of this request.

PM!Dazai x Reader x Oda

Words: 1328

Too good to be true.

Was it still cruel to act cruelly to those who had done cruel to others? Was it to be considered an unforgivable act of cruelty? If it was, then why was it so easy to hurt those who hurt others?

Beneath the cloak of darkness provided by the dimly lit night sat a bar. Lighting up an alleyway hidden in the depths of darkness laid its sign, “The Lupin”. With the moon hidden behind shadows and no sign of rain or storms, four friends sat close to each other. Three holding drinks in their hands. One to the farthest left sat observing the group, two younger teenage mafia members, respectfully feared, reduced to laughing embers of another self. To the left, sat Dazai, an executive of 17. He’d been an executive for years, known as the youngest and most feared executive. Though if someone were told that seeing only the boy sitting on the stool, they would doubt those words. After all, he was smiling and laughing about wanting to switch jobs with another. To his right, sat a mafia member who wrapped them all like thread around their fingers. Their cold eyes and an empty smile hidden behind a flawless mask of laughs and smiles. This person was you, the one who’d do the most damage to the kindling flames of friendship. To your right, sat Odasuku, the mafia member who didn’t kill. He was truly a good man, protecting orphans.

Laughing among each other, the older brunette watched with soft eyes as Dazai argued with you. Engaging with him about suicide as Ango crumbled with dread. “Don’t encourage him! Lend me a hand here!” his eyes focused on Oda, who snapped back to full attention shrugging his shoulders.

“Let them have some fun, it’s mostly harmless.” Smiling you nodded, turning back to Oda with a smile, your eyes saw the red tint but ignored it. It would do no good to let feelings get in the way of bringing the mafia to their knees. To destroy ability users and bring onto the world eternal bliss and peace.

“See Odasaku get’s us Ango! Let us have fun!” Dazai nodded, spinning his stool to face the exhausted man.

This night was tenser than normal. Ango continued flicking his eyes over to you with uncertainty, building an edge that made you uncertain if he knew or not. Though suspicion came when Ango talked about his current deal, and things didn’t add up in your head. Unsure if you were paranoid, you let it all go by. Allowing Dazai to snap pictures of everybody. Laughing among each other with smiles as the invisible thread that tied you altogether was shared once more and for the last time.

One would betray the group, one would commit cruelty so cruel betrayal can’t coat it, and one would die. The joyful smiles would all come crumbling down with anguish.

You almost felt regretful, the smallest tinge of guilt pulsing within your chest, growing heavier with every moment that passed. Steps long and heavy as you place a location in a folder. Mind beginning to cloud as you think back to those nights. The joy you had experienced, the emotions which hang in the loose threads around your heart. Your feet dragged against cement, handing the paper to a man whose face blurred in your mind. An unimportant extra to your story. You only need to wait two days: Watching Ango turn and betray the Mafia, nearly getting Oda killed in the process. He woke up only to spill the betrayal to both Dazai and you. Of course, you already knew about it.

The next time you saw him, Oda was still alive. It was just the three of you sharing the fraying threads between each other. Laughing as if nothing was going to happen or had happened. When Ango appeared nobody spoke for a while. Not even Dazai, who had all the right to become angered and kill Ango. Despite the hypocrisy in the feeling, you felt a tug in your chest. Though his leaving words cracked into your mind, sunk into you like a parting threat, though all it stood as was an accusation. “You should look closely to the one at your right, Dazai.” His eyes only narrowed at you for a moment before his fingers brushed his glasses up. Panic seeping through your veins and leaving through the shaking of your pupils.

Yet, nothing happened. Neither questioned his words until the day came. Standing beside him as those children died. You hadn’t meant for this, were they not supposed to be left unharmed? Guilt began to eat you alive as you listened to the screams leaving his throat. Your voice betraying you as you choked on a strangled sobbing gasp. Your eyes watering as you watched his immeasurable pain, the sound continuing until his voice became so raw he couldn’t speak. You wished to reach out and comfort him, to apologize and beg him to take your life. You loved him, only now did you notice the tug. It wasn’t until Dazai appeared that you managed to force your feet over to them. Dazai looking at you, the van, then to Oda. Though his eyes were cast in shadows and behind his back, his hands clasped for the words he would say, he knew he’d never had a chance. He was a monster relishing in the dark, but Oda was a light brighter than the sun itself. It had always been you, and he knew you would always see Oda over him. “What about Y/n?!” The further Oda got, the more guilt ate you alive. Eyes turning over to Dazai with small tears pricking within them. For a moment, Oda paused, but he did not turn back to face you again.

The taunting words broke him, if you were there to see the expression, you may have dropped dead yourself. The betrayed expression, knowing the person who once played and cooked for the orphans had been the one to get them killed. He was angry, but that anger only fed into that betrayal as the strings connecting the four of you completely snapped. No longer could any of you be called friends or close. Ango, who had betrayed the mafia, you, who had gotten him killed, and Oda, the one who died.

Dazai held tight the tan coat over his shoulders, refusing to part with it. His mind set on becoming a good person. He’d wanted to ask you, but all he needed to do was remember your motionless expression, the tears, and Oda’s words to connect the dots. Though he wasn’t told by the man himself he knew, this was your fault. Oda died, and he blamed you for it. In truth, he had the right to. Ango merely confirmed it for him when he completed his favor for Oda; there was no sympathy or care when your name flowed from their lips. Both people were mortified, but disgusted with you. Even if Ango had triggered the start, it had been you who burned the ropes binding the group together.

Even years later, when Dazai worked in a detective agency and you reappeared in Yokohama as a new person yourself, he couldn’t help the twisting feeling in his chest. He had liked you, given up on pursuing you for Oda, and yet… you got him killed. No amount of pleas could make him forgive you. His eyes glared down as he turned away from you. Parting without sweet words, leaving you utterly alone. Reaching out for the old days where the four of you all laughed in the Lupin. When you asked for the grave's location, he’d reacted by slamming your head into the concrete below. “You don’t get to visit him.” His words shot like bullets, but he was right. What right did you have to see him, to visit his grave when it was your fault?

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

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[oneoftheprettynerds]

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”  

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.  

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

[revirushifaa]

A female adult MC presenting positive pregnancy tests to the brothers and their reactions please! Thank you!

-🦊

Awww, how cute! Bros be Papas now <333

Enjoy!

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

You Are Gonna Be a Father

Lucifer and MC:

*He's in his study once again full with paperwork, when there's knocks in his door. Pauses for a moment and calls out.

"Come in, it's open."

*MC comes in and he immediately smiles, seeing his lover,

"Hello, my love, came to visit me?"

"Luci dear, there's something I must tell you..."

*Moments of curiousity with Lucifer as MC comes in and presents him a tube. The demon furrows his brows when he sees it, not sure what that meant.

"You're gonna be a father, Luci!"

*His pen falls from his hand and he's in shock. Blinks several time, the new information not processing quick. A father? A... a father?!

*For moments there is an awkward silence in the room and MC believes he's not thrilled and she's worried that he doesn't like the sound of it.

*However, pride be forgotten, Lucifer rises from his chair and engulfs MC in his arms spinning her around and looking overjoyed, like a child on Christmas Eve.

"Oh, these are the best news I've heard, can't wait for my firstborn to come!"

*Doesn't shut up for the next nine months about his firstborn. Papa Luci is happy Papa.

Mammon and MC:

*Is planning what to steal next from his brothers so he can sell it and gain more grimm. He's stopped however by MC.

"Hello, gold. What's up?"

"Mammon, darling. We need to talk."

*He hasn't done anything wrong, please don't start lecturing him too, he's had enough of Lucifer's lectures to have his lover also doing that.

*But he blinks when he's shown a tube. What is this? He has no idea until MC speaks up.

"You're gonna be a father, Mammon."

*The whole world stops spinning for a moment. ...Father...? Him a father? A-are you trying to mess with him?

"Umm, come again, goldy locks?"

"I have a baby forming inside me, you managed this and we'll have a family out of us. Mammon... you made this possible."

*Drops everything he's intending to sell and hugs his lover as tight as possible, enough to raise her up the ground, he's crying happy tears actually.

"Goldy locks, sweetums, that's great! There's gonna be a Mini Mammon here!!"

*And for the next nine months his brags about 'Mini Mammon' and brings the baby up to every conversation, he's gotta be a proud papa.

Leviathan and MC:

*He's there in his own world, playing a game that just came recently, he hears the door knock, but he doesn't demand the password, he knows by the rythym of the knocks, it's his lover.

"Come in, sugarcube. It's open, join me in a game!"

*MC enters and walks over to him, with a smile on. Levi wonders why she is so happy.

"Levi... got news for you."

*She pulls out a tube and hands over to Levi who's lost in the clouds. What is this? This doesn't look like one of those mini console games.

"Um... sugarcube, I might not be good at normie's stuff. You're not a normie of course! I mean the normie world's stuff in general."

"You're gonna be a father, Lebaby!"

*Uh.... he's sent into a frozen state, his console drops from his hold and he opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of the water.

*It takes a long while for him to react from this new information. He locks his gaze on MC's and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Sugarcube, are you telling me...?"

"There's a blessing growing inside me, and you're the result of it. I'm so happy to have such blessing inside me."

*Ok, that's enough to put him out of unease and start hugging his lover close, in his own way telling her how much this has put him happy, while still unsure if he's gonna make a good father.

*He builds up the nursery ocean-themed and is certain that his child is going to be an otaku just like it. During nine months he's worked harder to achieve this.

Satan and MC:

*Reading as always, the Avatar of Wrath sits on the library when MC enters the library and she covers his eyes from behind. Knowing that his lover does this all the time, he doesn't go on alert.

"Hello, kitten. Nice surprise as always."

"I have an even better surprise, mon chaton."

*She gives him a tube and he blinks at it, eyes widening as he has a bit of a clue of what this is all about.

"Kitten, don't tell me...?!"

"Correct, you're gonna be a father, Satan!"

*His book falls off his hold and he stands up, quickly pulling MC into his hold. There's a warm look on his face.

"Wonderful news, kitten. Let me give you a surprise of my own."

*He kisses her and shows her how happy he is. For one he did want to try a family with his beloved, wishes always are granted and now his wish is granted. He'll have a family of his own. He reads anything, so he's read a book on child care so, he's prepared.

*During the next nine months he's reading to his beloved pregnant tummy, puts his ear on it and calls his to-be born firstborn 'his kittling'. Super happy cat Papa.

Asmodeus and MC:

*The beauty of the house is once again taking care of his image, with the most high-class beauty products.

"Beautiful? Can I enter?"

"Why, of course, my darling, enter. My room is your room too, after all we're married!"

*She enters and presents Asmo with the tube and he cocks his head to the side. Was this a tube of cream for his perfect skin?

"Is this for my skin, dear?"

"*giggles* No, silly! You're gonna be a father!"

*Asmo.exe has stopped working. What... what...?! Father? Him?!

"Is this true?! I'm gonna have a child with my ethereal beauty? Oh sweetie... *sobs*"

*MC cleans up his happy tears as he is the most emotional of all brothers. He's in a joyful moment there, he sobs as he hugs his beloved closer to him, getting his body wash cream all on her.

*He's there buying all the beauty products for babies even months before their birth but he just wants them to be just like him; beautiful. His firsborn gotta be just an Asmo Jr.

Beelzebub and MC:

*Is about to go to munch on whatever that there is in the kitchen when his beloved and runs up to him and hugs him ever so tightly.

*He smiles and hugs her back, nuzzling her and feeling like his meal will be wonderful because he has MC with him.

"Hey, Bite. Did you get good news on your medic appointment? I know how scared of the doctor you are, but I can only hope it went out good seeing your behavior."

"It did! Got some news for you, my sweet Gluttonous!"

*She pulls out a tube and lets the demon see it and she's wearing a very happy smile. But Beel doesn't catch up on it, what is this, a marshmallow? He opens his mouth about to take a bite of it.

"No! Beel this isn't food! You're gonna be a father!"

*What? For real? A little baby will be his. He of course knows babies can't be eaten, he wouldn't do that. He feels happy. He picks up his bride and twirls her around.

"This is the only think greater than food that I can think at the moment! I'll be a dad to our child. Let's celebrate it big!"

*Beel spends the next nine months saving food like a bear in hibernation but if he's firstborn is gonna be just as gluttonous as he is, then he must keep them fed and good. Of course only bottle of milk for the first months of their life.

Belphegor and MC:

*Haaah. Sleep, sleep. Sweet sleep. Though his sleep is interrupted by his beloved, gently nudging him awake. If she had something to tell him that was important, she's the only one allowed to wake him up.

"Hm? Oh it's you, pillow. What's up?"

*Slowly sits up, smiling gently at her, with sleepy eyes, waiting for her to speak up why she woke him up.

"Snoozy, Snoozy, there's something I must tell you before you go to bed! Ready? You're gonna be a father!"

*The news wake him up quickly, he's not nodding off anymore. He blinks and locks his gaze into her gaze.

"You mean...?"

"Yes, my sweetheart. A little one is forming inside me and they'll be ours in a few months."

*MC is attacked in a firm hug by a happy Belphie who feels the immense happiness now. Yes, he's happy, because he just got a family out of his dearest, these are wonderful news. His small one might be just like him in sleep, so it'll be quite nice to have a sleep buddy.

*Belphie then buys all pillows and soft blankets for his little one when they come to his life. Claiming that his baby needs the softest of beds to sleep. And to his credit, babies do sleep a lot, so just the perfect sleep buddy to ask.

[tennessoui]

#18 Prompt: Ohio in Pre-Slash,16/17 year old Anakin has had a crush on his Master for awhile but knows/thinks Obi-Wan would never return his feels. He's almost completely given up and is think about maybe finding a substitute outlet. Then Obi-Wan gets amnesia while they are stranded on an uninhibited planet. Their Locator Beacon only giving off a general area. Obi-Wans amnesia leaves out the Code, and that he's Anakins teacher so the Boy calls him Master so he MUST be Obi-Wans pet/slave.

ahh so i could easily see this going dubcon and smutty and if i were better i might have gone that way too but instead i made some pining fluff but i hope you still like it!!

18. Waking Up With Amnesia (Hurt!Obi-Wan, underage!pining!Anakin, misunderstandings)

Anakin does his level best to land the ship gently, he really does. But he can’t work miracles here, and the locals had damaged their hull quite effectively when they had shot at them as they descended from atmo.

Friendly negotiations, yeah right. When Anakin gets his hands on these guys, he’s gonna show them exactly how friendly Anakin can be. But first he has to make the landing. And then he has to make sure his master is okay. Failure on either of these fronts is not an option.

His master had just gotten up to go to the back to grab their identification. They had been talking, seriously for once and without anger or impatience laced through their words--he’d said he was proud to have him as his padawan, that Anakin had grown into a young man anyone would be fortunate to know.

Anakin had turned to watch his master leave, his shields raised high but his eyes stripped bare. He’d be eighteen in two months. Somehow he’d made it through most of his time as a Padawan already. With his impending adulthood comes the realization that he has no more time for words of anger or scorn, not directed to his master at least. In a few years at most, Obi-Wan would be free of him by all Jedi rules and obligations.

Now more than ever he has to convince his master to want to keep him around. It’s a grueling task, made more difficult by how terribly difficult Anakin had been in the last, say, nine years. What with his pod-racing, his temper, his pride, his stubbornness--his huge and achingly obvious hero worship turned crush on the older Jedi.

But he can’t lose Obi-Wan, can’t even stand the idea of his master leaving him. The idea of missions alone while his master cavorts around the galaxy without hm--with another Padawan?--is absolutely intolerable. No. He has to convince the Jedi to want him as more than a Padawan. To want him as a friend, as a partner.

(In his wildest fantasies, as more than that, too.)

But now, as if the Force has heard his thoughts and is punishing him, the ship is crashing and his master has been hurt somewhere behind him but he can’t check without losing control of the vessel completely. He just has to--land--on this wide stretch--of karking sand.

It’s not his best landing, but they’re on the ground at least. The first thing he does is, of course, throw off his own landing protector and rush to Obi-Wan’s side, pulling his body out of the mangled remains of their ship and into the light and heat of outside. His master is unconscious, but he doesn’t seem to be bleeding terribly nor fatally. Now, and only now, he thanks the Force.

That’s when he notices the startling wet and spreading red across his master’s usually pristine robes.

Never mind, he tells the Force, fumbling with Obi-Wan’s belt in a panic. He needs to treat the wound, which means he needs to see it, which means he needs to get these outer robes off, as well as his master’s inner tunic.

“If I’m ever undressing you again, I swear to the Force you better be cognizant,” he mutters to himself as he rips at the fabric of the thin undershirt. “So many layers and not one of them protects you from debris, how is that fair?” He continues as he pushes Obi-Wan to the side far enough so he can see the man’s bare shoulder and the cut itself. It doesn’t look deep, at least, but it is long, spanning at least Anakin’s entire hand.

How much bacta do they have? Is their distress beacon working? Does Anakin want it to be working? Half of him thinks no, because what if the locals show up to finish them off? Half of him thinks yes, because he’d love to get his hands on the creatures responsible for Obi-Wan’s current state now.

It’s a very un-Jedi thought, but Anakin can’t even feel bad for it. He goes back into the wreckage of their ship--and he knows already he’s going to hear about this from the Council, as if anyone else could have done better--and grabs their first aid kit.

There’s bandages and bacta and that’s the important thing, he reminds himself. He’ll fix up the wound and then worry about why Obi-Wan hasn’t woken up yet.

But. Well. There’s not a great way to patch it up. The only thing he can think of is to give Obi-Wan’s form a solid thing to lean his head against while keeping his lower back pressed against the durasteel. It’s an awkward angle, but any other would result in Obi-Wan getting a face full of sand, and Anakin wouldn’t do that to his worst enemy, let alone his master.

Look. There’s no delicate way to put it. He straddles his lap and brings his head so it can rest on his chest as he works.

Of course this is when Obi-Wan begins to stir. Anakin tightens his hold on him and tries to send feelings of relief and calm through the Force. He needs Obi-Wan to not startle away from him until he finishes putting on the bacta. They can be embarrassed about this later. They’ll laugh about this later.

“You’re fine, Master,” Anakin murmurs at what he decides to take as a garbled word of confusion. “I crashed the ship, you can punish me later.”

Anakin can feel Obi-Wan’s signature spike around him, but he’s too intent on his task to figure out what specifically his master is feeling.

“What--” Obi-Wan mumbles, hand coming up to brace his head.

Anakin leans back as he finishes, tapping gently on Obi-Wan’s cheek until the man lifts his eyes to look at him. They’re dazed and confused.

“Master?” Anakin asks.

Obi-Wan’s brow furrows. “Master?”

Now Anakin’s getting very worried. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he demands.

Obi-Wan blinks. “You’re...not holding up any fingers,” he says, words becoming clearer the longer he talks. “I’m sorry

“Master,” he says slowly. “How are you feeling?” “Confused,” Obi-Wan says. “And...worried. And sick. Why are you calling me that?” “Calling you what, Master?”

“That. Master,” Obi-Wan looks sick just saying the word. Anakin scrambles up off his lap and kneels in the sand in front of him.

Panic clogs at his throat, making it even harder to force words out. “This isn’t a funny joke, Master.”

Now Obi-Wan looks distressed. “I’m not joking!” He looks wildly around and then clutches at his head in pain. “I don’t know who you are. Who I am. And I need you to stop calling me master because it’s making me feel sick to my stomach knowing that apparently I’m the kind of person who owns slaves because I know it’s wrong.”

Anakin blinks. It’s a lot to process. “You don’t remember?” is the first thing he says. He wants to say anything or anyone or perhaps the Jedi Order you’ve been a part of since you were a baby, but instead what comes out is, “Me?”

“I don’t remember myself, how am I supposed to remember you? Did you expect me to?”

Anakin stays quiet because well. Yeah. He hadn’t thought anything could really truly make his master forget him. Not time, not distance, not anything. Looking at Obi-Wan looking at him now without any sort of familiarity feels like all of his worst nightmares coming true.

His master glances down at his half-dressed state and then back to Anakin suspiciously.

It’s a harsh expression without the fond exasperation that usually hovers in the back of Obi-Wan’s eyes when he sees Anakin.

“What were you doing?” Obi-Wan asks him. “Why were you...touching me?”

“Nothing!” Anakin yelps, knowing that is the worst response he could have given. “I mean. I was tending to you, Master.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Ah, kark.

“Don’t call me that,” Obi-Wan snaps, looking furious. Anakin wants to explain that he can’t not, that Master is as much as Obi-Wan’s name to him as Padawan is Anakin’s. “You mean to say I’m such a terrible person that I don’t just own a slave but a pleasure slave?”

Anakin thinks he must be blushing to the roots of his hair. “No!” he yells, much louder than he intends. “No, you don’t own me, M--Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan mouths his name as if it’s a new word. Anakin is about to break into hysterical laughter.

“I’m your apprentice,” Anakin forges ahead. “We use Master as a term of respect for our teachers.” He adds, “I was tending to your wound,” just so Obi-Wan doesn’t next think that Anakin was trying to take advantage of him or something. There’s only so many misconceptions he can deal with in one sitting, especially with the amount of panic that’s raging through his brain.

Obi-Wan looks achingly hopeful. Anakin supposes that without the memory of years of emotional suppression training, he’ll be able to see what his master is feeling more easily. He wonders if he could get Obi-Wan to laugh or smile. He’d kill for one unbridled grin from the other man, although there’s nothing joyful about the situation they’re in right now.

“You’re the best man I know, Obi-Wan,” Anakin tells him softly. “I know you don’t remember right now, but I promise you’d never do that to someone. You’re good. And honest and brave and kind and…” he trails off and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest as he’s hit with the reminder of everything he stands to lose if Obi-Wan’s memory loss can’t be undone. “We’ll get this fixed. It’s just temporary. I won’t let it be permanent.” He says the last part fiercely and mostly to himself. “I won’t.”

Obi-Wan smiles, just slightly and reaches out a hand. Perhaps his need to comfort a distressed Anakin is simply instinctive. “I believe you,” he whispers back. “I trust you.”

Anakin beams. And then he thinks of something else. For a second, he wonders about whether or not he should ask the question that’s burning up his mind, but he needs to know now that he’s asked himself. “Ma--Obi-Wan, why did you think that I was. Um. A pleasure slave?”

Obi-Wan’s blush is a thing of wonder. It could single-handedly keep them both warm on Hoth itself.

“Because of how we were positioned when we woke up,” Obi-Wan mumbles, burying his face in his hands. “And because you look like that.” The last part is said from behind his fingers.

Some sort of unfamiliar fire lights itself in Anakin’s stomach. “I look like what?” he prompts, barely daring to breathe.

But this Obi-Wan must not remember why he shouldn’t always be straightforward with the truth, especially to Anakin who he’s said he trusts.

(Obi-Wan trusts him!)

“Beautiful,” Obi-Wan says, so hushed and embarrassed that Anakin almost can’t hear it over the sound of his heart beating.

Inappropriately for their current situation, Anakin wants to crow in victory as the flame inside him grows larger.

Obi-Wan trusts him. At least on some level. Instinctively. And a part of him, stripped of his Jedi code and teachings and lifestyle, thinks that Anakin is beautiful.

He puts a name to the burning in his chest. It’s hope.