#I did not like the 2nd movie much just to clear that up

[docnukes]

Ilove you movie Joker specifically hi movie Joker

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Movie Night 💋

|| Reneé Rapp x Chappell Roan x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; age regress reader, caretaker Reneé/Chappell, fluff/comfort, kinda short drabble

|| Summary; when Reneé and Chappell find a regressed reader, they decide to have a movie night.

Requests closed!

Started; December 1st

Finished; December 2nd

Anon Request; Reneé + Chappell taking care of regressed reader who's at six ish

~~~

When your girls found you, you were curled up in a couple of blankets. Holding a squishmellow that Chappell had gifted you while watching your favourite cartoons. They could instantly tell you had regressed. They weren't sure to what age, but they'd worry about that later. Chappell settled herself beside you on the bed, arm wrapped around your waist with a smile.

"Hey, you doing okay?" She asked. You simply nodded, snuggling right up into her. Cheek to her chest. It was clear you must've been a younger age. You weren't talkative. That usually happened when you went younger. If she had to guess, you were somewhere below ten right now. Her thumb idly traced shapes into your side. Creating a soothing gesture for you. The touch made you giggle a bit, being ticklish.

Reneé joined you on your other side, sitting herself on the edge of the bed. Watching you and Chappell. She glanced to the TV, seeing your favourite cartoon on. The blonde looked back to you and gave your hand a gentle squeeze," how about some popcorn? Make it a movie night?" She asked, wanting to make you feel better. Your eyes lit up and you nodded again. A big smile on your face now. Good.

Chappell chuckled and gave your shoulder a nudge to get your attention," how about you and I make a blanket fort while Neé does that?"

"Yes!!" You cheered. So, you weren't young enough you couldn't talk. But your tone did have that little kid stumble to it. She gently moved a bit of your hair out of your face, cupping the side of your cheek as she looked into your eyes.

"Alright, baby. Pick out what blankets you wanna use." Chappell was being incredibly careful not to swear. She knows she has a habit of doing it quite a bit, but when you got like this she tried to be mindful. Same with Reneé. They knew you didn't like hearing them swear when you were like this. Often saying 'potty mouth' when you heard it. Or something close to that.

Reneé stood and made her way out of the room, heading to the kitchen to make the popcorn. She knew all your favourite toppings and powders. So she got that all out while the bag was placed into the microwave. She checked the cupboards for any other snacks you might have. Finding your favourite candies and chips. She grabbed those too, putting them in bowls. Then Reneé opened the fridge. Getting your favourite juice or pop. Pouring it into glasses.

Meanwhile you and Chappell had gathered some blankets and were finding ways to turn the bed into a fort. Chappell had grabbed a broom, using the end of it to hold up the blanket in the centre. Then created a pillow pile around the broom with you. Using squishmellows, stuffies, pillows, everything to make it comfy. Around the part of the broom that was still visible, Chappell found some fairy lights to add. You clapped when saw them. Feeling incredibly excited, you loved lights.

"We're adding lights?!" You asked, Chappell smiled and nodded.

"Damn right we are, baby. What kind of fort doesn't have fairy lights?" You couldn't argue with that logic. She wrapped them around the broom handle, letting you help her.

By the time Reneé got back, the fort was complete. She looked at it with a proud smile, admiring the work you and Chappell did together. "Looks awesome. Woah, lights too?" She said when she saw the lights. Knowing just how much you loved them. Your smile got bigger when Reneé talked about the lights.

"Yeah!!" You got yourself snuggled up in the bed fort, with Chappell joining you. The front was opened so you had the perfect view of the tv. Reneé placed the snacks on the bed and drinks on the bedside table before she joined you. Taking a picture of the three of you with the caption; Movie Night 💋.

Curled up together, the three of you watched your favourite cartoon. It wasn't long before you fell asleep between them.

[blue-sadie]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request moon boys' reaction to their civilian fem s/o getting hurt by one of their enemies? Maybe they got stabbed, and they're bleeding out, and the moon boys are holding them, begging them not to go. Not to leave them. And then Khonshu helps em? Or another deity? Feel free to change how you see fit! I just love your writing, and I'm so curious about what your thoughts are on this

thank you so much

Bloody Hands

Moon Boys x Reader Summary: definitely the last time you'll ever be allowed to go on a mission with them Here's another one shot similar if you haven't seen it 'Save Him'

Warning: guns

Yn/2nd person pov

It wasn't every day that you got to tag along in a mission Marc and Jake basically forbid it but this time you got them to feel sorry for you, puffing out your lip and tearing up your eyes just enough so they were glossy but it could also have been the black lace outfit you were wearing they definitely couldn't say no to you "baby stay behind me please" Steven called out as he scrambled behind you his mask barely muffling his voice.

"This is so cool" I murmured looking around the corner seeing about 4 guys holding guns I heard a fabric sway beside and found myself pushed against the wall with marc standing infront of me "stay here, you listen to us that was the condition" he muttered making me puff out my lip "come on I can handle myself" I said making him roll his eyes "stay here" he said before slipping past me I heard punches being thrown, guns firing and grunts of pain it lasted for about 10 minutes "it's all clear" Marc called out.

I quickly followed behind him into the old factory watching fight every look out I was always amazed when I see them fight, we slowly made our way to the loading deck where the deal was happening, an ancient artifact was being sold into the wrong hands so khonshu had to put a stop to it the men almost triple in size at the loading deck "must be worth a lot of money with all these guards" marc spoke lowly almost talking to himself.

we watched the guys for a bit longer until they brought out the case, marc leaped into action taking the surrounding guards and using his cloak as a shield as they fired on him the dealers started to run towards me to get to the other exit, I let out a deep breath hiding behind the wall I listened as the got closer and stuck out my leg tripping two of the as they ran past a few guards following turned to me "oopsie" I laughed nervously before ducking as the first one threw a punch.

I was able to block and throw a few of my own, marc soon joined me taking them out "where's the case" he shouted I looked to where the dealers were, but they were gone "they must've gone out the back exit" I said, and we ran after them, they fired on us as we got the building marc jumped infront of me covering me with his cloak "go back inside" he said I nodded and ran back inside only to see another group of henchmen coming I grabbed a gun from a fallen guard and started giving them a taste of their own medicine.

My bullets ran out with just a few more guards left "shit" I muttered throwing the gun at one of the guards like what they did in movies, but it barely did anything "double shit" I turned running out to marc, he was picking up the case turning to me as he heard more gun shots "Marc" I yelled my breath cutting short as I felt a sharp pain go through my stomach "no" he screamed and it all turned into slow motion, my legs gave out underneath me as I saw marc sprinting towards me turning into Jake.

The pain increasing as I hit the floor screams of pain, and more gun shots filled my ears as the guards tried and failed at stopping Jake, coughs of blood erupted from my throat as I clenched my stomach their cries and screams went silent "yn" it was steven calling out as he ran to me, he dropped down beside me his hands shaking as he turned me to him "I shouldn't have let you come" his eyes welled up with tears as he tried applying pressure onto the wound making me cry out in pain.

"We have to do some take her to the hospital" he freaked "and what would they do nothing" Jake took over his face immediately hardening "we just need to get her home" he said pushing his arms underneath me slightly shooshing me as I cried out "just hold on" he murmured, he rushed me to the car putting me into the passenger's seat before taking his own the car screeching as he sped out of the factory onto the road "what the fuck were we thinking" he slammed his hands onto the steering wheel as he muttered to himself.

My eyes slowly looked down at my bloody clothing raising my hand to cover the wound another coughing fit started some of my blood spattering onto the dashboard "hold on baby we're almost there" he said making the car go faster black dots started filling my vision and would zone in and out "guys" I said weakly my head dipping as my energy was gone "fuck fuck fuck" jake screamed skidding the car to a holt "hold on for me baby" he said climbing out the car and picking me up.

His legs carried us as fast as they could as he raced up the stairs kicking the door open rushing me to the bed "Jake" my voice could barely get over a whisper that he didn't hear it as he rushed around the apartment looking for things "where the fuck is the first aid" he yelled his voice for of anger "it's where you always leave it" steven took over but still not returning to me as I could out, my chest became heavy with every breath I took making it harder to breathe.

your eyes began to shut and my breath slowly stopping "I love you guys" you said before the life finally drained out of you "I got everythi-" steven paused at the doorway dropping everything as he saw your lifeless body a slight sob left his mouth as he ran to you bring your body up to cradle you "come back to me please" he cried his sobs filling the apartment the others were left in shock they disappeared into the background, steven pressed his forehead against yours letting his tears fall onto your face "I love you please come back" he cried but you didn't.

"What have I done" he sobbed placing onto the bed bringing his hands up to cover his face only to see blood your blood "I'm a monster" his hands began to shake as started repeating those words falling down to the fall, tears pouring down his face as he stared at his hands "its my fault" he was in such a daze he didn't hear the god of the moon appear behind him, khonshu looked in sadness at the scene before him because in all honesty you were his favourite human he couldn't just let you die like that.

His staff lit up as he bowed his head letting some of his power heal you he say your chest slowly start to move as you slowly came back he smiled a bit before returning to his temple, Stevens cries made his whole body shake he didn't even notice the one he was crying for wake up her eyes slowly blinking open before her face slowly scrunching together in confusion "guys" she murmured as she slowly sat up as if it was just a normal morning routine.

Steven cried even harder thinking it was just a cruel trick of the mind till he felt a hand on his shoulder "my love are you ok" his head snapped to you his cries turning happy as he saw it was really you, he tackled you into the bed laying kisses everywhere he could as he repeated how sorry he was "I'm so sorry it was all my fault" his voice was raspy from all the crying the others were almost crying themselves as they saw you "I'm ok" you said grabbing his face between your hands and using your thumbs to wipe his tears.

"I love you so much please never do that ever again"

[cloveroctobers]

FALSE STARTS — CARMY BERZATTO [Summer Writings]

A/N: Getting down to my final collection to these summer writings…I strongly debated if I wanted to even write for carm this time around, the man is always going through it…not saying that I won’t ever again because I ofc have love for the guy but whew!!! Never giving up on him but—you guys get it? You just have to let some things sink in after watching the seasons…so here’s something possibly short? Knowing me my definition of short is not always reliable kinda like Carmy’s mental state—OOP. Too much?

WARNINGS: Added a OC, another berzatto again to the mix because I can also see Kyle being on the show and I’ve got a soft spot for him as well SORRY! I feel it in my spirit for smile 2 that it’s NOT going to end well but let’s be delusional! Slight reference to that horror movie in here as well, Still x reader based but you just have a name since I didn’t want to write in 2nd POV, along with some background for you and Carmy’s friendship, language, mentions of s**c***e & some spoilers for season three if you’re not caught up yet!

SYNOPSIS: Carmy runs into more than just his past and blood, forever learning what his next steps are, if his head will let him that is.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @emziess + @andrew3garfield !

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

The last thing Carmy expected was to see, Joel Berzatto at the pick up window during the lunch rush. Carmy’s been on autopilot the second week into the grand opening and he was already frustrated with the new hires. They didn’t have what it takes and Carmy didn’t have the patience to teach them, especially when they didn’t put in the effort to learn.

All they cared about was a paycheck.

He couldn’t teach what should have already been known.

Carmy already shocked himself, not blowing a fuse, deciding to just head out back silently with a carton of cigarettes. He vowed at some point he was going to quit these things and faught hard about the stick that was perched in between his lips. He’s pacing along the rocks and dirt on the side of the bear, back of his lighter racking against his fingers as he took a two minute break.

There was no time to make it five.

“Carmen,” a voice greets, making his bright blues turn to the voice.

It’s Joel.

Michelle’s younger brother.

He’s got a bag to go, bunched up underneath his fingers and his badge on his waist glimmers from underneath his earthy toned attire for work. Carmen reminds himself to blink, coming to terms that this is indeed his family—on his father’s side—at his place of business.

“Joel?” Carmen echoes but it’s more of a question.

Joel snickers as there’s still a great distance between the two family members, “yeah I was wondering when I was going to get caught red handed.”

Carmen clears his throat after removing the cigarette from his lips, “you’ve ordered something to go?”

That’s obvious but he’s trying to fill up the silence, which is always so loud even in the city.

Joel scratches at his brow, a small smile playing on his face, “‘Course I did. I was in the area and my partner wanted some other shit, he’s vegan or vegetarian and I knew that would be a disappointment so I snuck over here to get my money’s worth.”

“Yeah?” Carmy’s eyes flick back to the bag, “what’s your poison?”

Joel laughs, “can’t ever go wrong with a classic, am I right?”

Which only meant one thing: Italian Beef with extra peppers, just how he always got it, even when they were younger. Joel was older than Carmy, more around Nat’s age but he always found a way to bring up something to talk about once Michelle, Mikey, and Richie brought the house down with their boisterous voices.

“I’ve mentioned to Sugar that Sam and I can’t wait to try out the dinner menu but it hasn’t been the best time…” Joel hints, almost as if he’s apologizing for not showing his face.

There was tension at the beginning.

Joel was this big detective.

Always the persistent one and trying to solve something. It only made sense that he chose this profession but Joel did piss the family off when he tried to come up with this conspiracy theory that Mikey didn’t kill himself and that someone else pulled the trigger. His perspective? It was probably someone who Mikey bought those painkillers off of and in Joel’s mind, he thought he was doing the family a good service but instead he had his own denial about Mikey’s passing as well.

There’s been two big death’s in Joel’s life that he had to face before with his fiancée who took her own life as well. A psychologist at that. That happened years before Mikey…and Carmy can only imagine how fucked he’s been in the head too and maybe detective work gave him some sort of solace—in a twisted way.

They were family after all and grief is handled in different ways they say!

Carmy picks up on the name referred to and questions, “Sammy? You guys are still together?”

Joel snickers but doesn’t seem offended by any means, “Yeah, can’t seem to get rid of her.”

He jokes but Carmy knows that would be the last thing Joel wanted.

“She always tells me to send her love whenever I do stop by for lunch…we just don’t want to disrupt anything you guys have going on.” Joel admits and that actually makes Carmy frown.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment with a shake of his head, “she wouldn’t—you guys wouldn’t. You’re both family too…it’s just been a lot.”

“Yeah but at some point I think we’ve got to stop making excuses,” Joel shrugs, “No pressure on our end. You should stop by the house one day, Samora would love to see you. It’s been awhile you know?”

Carmy nods.

It has.

Samora’s been one of Carmy’s oldest friends.

The friendship happened to be one of those, catch you when I catch you type of things, or if seeing someone mutual and he so happened to come up, she always related her love for him. That’s just how they operated, even if was at a distance and there wasn’t any bad blood.

Life went on.

Separately for them.

And she’s apparently been going strong with his blood cousin, Joel, for who knows how long? Carmy can’t believe he’s almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend like her.

“Yeah, I should.” Carmy agrees, “Nat’s got your number right? I’ll have to get it from her and reach out to see what’s best for you guys?”

Joel raised his brows at this.

He didn’t think Carmy would even respond to that. Carmy’s always been the kind of guy that found the nicest corner in the room and chose to stay there, it was what he was comfortable with: seeing all sides of the room and the nearest exit.

“Well Sam’s mostly working out of the house now, business picked back up for her in the last year, thankfully.” Joel answers with an inhale, “I’m the one that’s mostly gone all the time not getting the chance to really live in the house but…whenever you want. We don’t mind pop in’s—usually.”

Carmy nods, “cool—uh? I got to get back in there but I hope you enjoy the sandwich and maybe fucking try something else huh?”

Joel’s always been the sandwich and chips kind of guy. Easy going. Compassionate and soft spoken. Carmy’s only ever saw Joel pissed one time as far as he can remember. Of course when carmy brought up the interest of taking cooking seriously, Joel offered a listening ear and would admit he hardly knew what kind of fancy dishes Carmy was talking about but once he brought out the sketches? Sold! Joel couldn’t be more thrilled to see Carmy finding something to be passionate about.

It took time but he did it.

Joel picks up on Carmy’s teasing tone and points the bag at him, “I don’t tell you how to run your business, Carm. So don’t get in between a man and his favorite hoagie.”

A crooked smile appears on Carmy’s face at that as he slowly starts to retreat, “alright, fair enough.”

“Keep it up, bear.” Joel tells Carm, “beginnings can be rough but everything looks phenomenal…from what I can see anyway.”

Did it feel that way?

Carmy couldn’t tell you.

A week and three months it took for Carmy to show up to the familiar Greystone. It was after the review came in and Carmy was back on mode: disconnect, taking a much needed walk that led him right back to the usual busy area where the home sat; that had history there. He’s not positive how long he’s been standing there, peering up at the picturesque home beyond the fence.

Eventually he works up the nerve to stand at the front door, head just kissing it as he debates about knocking. His stomach feels like an off track dryer machine and his head is telling him that he has no place showing up to this house. Samora wouldn’t want to see him and Joel was just talking back then, never expecting Carmy to take up the invitation.

Carmy’s got the number from Sugar and found out where they stayed. It was the same address of where Sammy grew up, a home from her great grandparents that was passed all the way down to her. Legally she got the greystone since her foster turned adopted siblings weren’t biologically in the family and only one of them seemed to put up a fight about it anyway, only wanting the cash and not caring about how significant the home was.

He remembered that.

And so, he knocks.

He’s heading towards the gate by the time the front door swings open but the sound of the woman calling out his name, stops him in his tracks. He exhaled, dropping his hand from pulling the gate back, lifting his head before turning back to the woman on the stoop.

“It is you! Well don’t just stand there, get up here you little turd.” She’s waving her hands along and Carmy moves.

They’re face to face and it’s been ages.

Both of their eyes traces over one another’s faces but Samora is the first to yank him by the shoulders into her arms. He’s tense but finds himself placing his chin into her own shoulder, shaky hands going to her spine. Samora’s hugs have always been tight but Carmy’s never had a problem with pressure.

Much.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t get paint all on your fresh suit. What’s that? Givenchy?” Samora pokes fun as she playfully flicks the tip of his nose.

Carmy smacks her hand away realizing that she is in fact covered in paint all over her shorts overalls and there’s a dry paint swatch right on her left cheek. A awful chartreuse color, which she always seemed to like the brightest of colors others like to hate on.

In a sense Samora tried to see the good in most things.

“No,” Carmy feels a small smirk appear on his own cheek, “you’re good.”

And she welcomes him inside.

The once old home has been refreshed and Carmy can’t tell you the last time he’s been in here but the changes are evident. The first set of walls were now white, making the short entry way feel bigger and as they both turn to the right towards the living room, the view of the front porch at night feels like many summers ago when they both would sit out there, him on his back, arms tucked behind his head and Samora right beside him cross legged as she stared out towards the traffic lights.

They could sit out there for hours together, comfortable in silence or Carmy listening to Samora curse up a storm when she got confused trying to learn chess with a board her great-grandfather made. A slab of wood with a built in drawer to keep the pieces on the side, it would get stuck sometimes but she always handled with care.

“Carmen Berzatto…can’t believe you came to see little ‘ol me…unless you’re looking for Joel?” Samora says over her shoulder, still waving him along through the dinning room towards the grand kitchen.

He awkwardly stands off to the side in the kitchen while Samora lets out a yawn with a shake of her head before moving forward with searching through the cabinets. “I uh—not necessarily.”

“He’s at work anyway, getting buried into another one of his insane cases that he’s not supposed to tell me about but we all know how I am—I’m going to find out regardless.” Samora places two shot glasses down, noticing that Carmy had moved closer to the island counter now.

He did know actually.

They went to school together, been through a lot of typical high school bullshit together. He always felt like the sidekick, whereas he was the shy and reserved one, Samora had other friends that she didn’t mind putting to the side to hang out with Carmy for. Her response would be whenever Carmy asked why she kicked them to the curb to be around someone boring would be, “I know who my lifelong friends are, surely.”

“Surely,” was always Samora’s word and, “Duh,” happened to be Nat’s.

Sophomore year when Konstantinos “Tino,” Pappas found his next target in Carmy and thought it would be funny to sic his Rottweiler on him one day (he had asthma and could barely run a mile but loved skateboarding) when he had to walk home alone after school one day, he glossed over it, saying that he just tried to hop the fence as a shortcut to get home and got stuck on it instead.

He didn’t mention the dog snatching his backpack, or the nasty nip mark on his lower back, his shirt ripping after it got stuck on the spikes, and colliding face first with a sharp rock, that left a faint knick on his cheek until this day, if you got close enough to see it you would notice. Donna believed Carmy’s lies although she knew Carmy was a more take his time kind of kid but all she wanted to do was get back to her daily cocktail, Nat was concerned but Carmy also brushed her off, saying he was fine, and when Mikey saw the marks, he hammered him with questions, leaving a teenage Carmy to grow sick of his big brother being on his case so he shut him out too.

And what did Mikey Berzatto do?

He went right to a sick Samora to find out what she knew. She had been home for the past three days, down with a fever she caught from her new foster sibling and swore that she would find out. Shook on it with the older Berzatto, who bid his farewells of how good she is to his kid brother, which meant she would always be good people in Mikey’s eyes. And when she did find out? She came right back to school that Monday, noticing the laughter from Tino and his friends down by their locker with a whole camcorder of the incident, which wasn’t far from her’s and Carmy’s.

Carmy lifted his hand to greet the teen but when she was on a mission? It was tunnel vision. She didn’t care if there were teachers at the end of the hall, she snatched the camcorder from one of Tino’s friends, shoving him out of the way, before getting to Tino. A fist met his eye that day and that resulted in a suspension and detention after learning what Tino did.

If you thought Carmy was pissed before about Nat’s overbearing nurturing ways and Mikey bugging him about the marks, then you can only imagine how annoyed he was with Samora after that. That resulted in a stupid fight and with Samora even dating Tino for two whole days—the goal was to break his heart anyway.

Teenagers? Am I right?

“Check this out,” Samora grins as she pours this green liquid into the shot glasses and makes sure to get a piece of cucumber? floating at the top to decorate it with, “I’ve been experimenting and since Joel can’t be my rodent of a taste taster tonight. I present to you chef Carmy, Cold Cucumber green Gazpacho. A chilled soup—as I’m sure you are aware of—since you know how I feel about soups in the summer.”

“…you want me to try this?” Carmy picks up the glass, eyeing it.

Samora dips her head, “surely and if you don’t do that pinched lip thing, then I know it’s trash.”

Carmy flicks his eyes to her with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”

She folds her first four fingers over her thumb, tapping them together, “I don’t know! It’s a thing! You do it when you’re yelling too but at least I know you’re focused so, go on.”

Carmy shakes his head with a slow close of his eyes. He didn’t know what she was talking about at all but he can’t say he was surprised she picked up on this, she was an interior decorator after all.

Detail was always crucial.

“That’s,” Carmy starts after seeing Samora toss her head back not long after himself, “fresh.”

Samora grins, “not bad for a beginner, huh? Easy peasy and quick! Make sure you shout me out if you make this an appetizer or something at the restaurant, will ya?”

“You got it.” Carmy comments making a mental note to do something green next time on the menu, savoring the smooth and freshness with a hint of a zing dish as Samora carefully places the bowl back into the fridge.

Sighing she turns to rest her elbows onto the counter, “Now…bestie Carmy Berzatto…what’s wrong?”

His eyes shift, “N-Nothing. I saw Joel the other day and he brought you up—

“How long ago was that?” She interrupts.

He fires back, “…awhile? Does it matter?”

“No…you know I don’t sweat the small stuff.” She blinks, “Long as I knew you were thriving then that’s all I can wish for but I know my friend and I’m sensing that you’re not okay. You’re avoiding.”

Carmy’s tapping his finger along the side of the glass but Samora doesn’t relax her burning stare, “what—

“Did you see your niece yet?” Samora quizzes and he quickly closes his eyes, running a hand through his hair, she can tell he’s mentally cursing at himself, “she’s a beautiful baby. I had groceries sent to Nat and Pete’s the other day—

“Is this your way of reminding me of how shitty I’ve been at communicating and being present because I don’t need it. I already feel that.”

Samora sticks her tongue in her cheek and pushes back, “No shock there, Carmy. I know you. So what exactly triggered you today that made you finally come here to see me?”

Carmy starts chewing on his lips, eyes not connecting with Samora’s as she tilted her head to the side, waiting. It feels like forever to get an answer so Samora moves around the island, squeezing his shoulder, “let’s go up to the roof, maybe the fresh air and not the fumes of paint will help ease you into it. Thanks for knocking by the way, I may have seen a glimpse of the other side because of it before you got here.”

“What?” Carmy spits out in concern as she pulls at his wrist.

Samora laughs, “if you tell Joel, I’ll have to keep you here and bury you in the front yard.”

Carmy blinks with a roll of his eyes.

They’re on the rooftop, there’s less cars as the night carries on. Carmy’s lost count of how many times the street lights flick from red, yellow, to green and back again. Samora allows carmy to take his time, one leg curled up underneath her with her head thrown back staring up at the twinkle of stars on a hot summer night. There’s barely a breeze but they’re alright.

“I saw the shit stain tonight.”

Samora tossed an arm over her forehead, leaned back in the comfy cushioned blue lounge chair, “yeah? There’s plenty here in chicago, so which one? Don’t tell me you saw the walking jump-scare, Tino?”

“Who?” Carmy presses but Samora can tell he’s not going down that path of the past.

She fans her hand to tell him to continue.

“This guy. One of the best chef’s I worked for in New York, he was at the funeral. There was a funeral for this restaurant, Ever.” Carmy begins to tell his old friend, mindful that she’s been out of the loop.

Samora looks around the night sky and snaps her fingers with a nod of her head, “yeah um, Chelly—mostly Stevie said something about a strict chef you were working with but of course it was vague, which leaves me to believe that you didn’t tell chelly much but she’s great at reading in between the lines much like myself.”

Carmy doesn’t tell her exactly what Chef David said to him a hour ago but tells her what his words made him feel yet again. Small. Incapable. How he has to triple check everything, take charge with no regard for his team that’s supposed to be family, and ultimately that he shouldn’t have a team because he was better off alone. How he should be grateful to be where he is now because of all that Chef David taught him.

“Oh nooooo, Chef charred asshole better be lucky I wasn’t there,” Samora mumbles, “He sounds like a narcissistic dick of a man who gets off on attempting to morph you into him and to me? That doesn’t sound like a brilliant or best of the best chef or even a person! it sounds weak and miserable.”

“It’s what I signed up for.” Carmy almost argues and Samora sits up.

She knows this stems from much more than what he experienced in that restaurant in New York.

“I haven’t been around you in a while but I’ve always been on the sidelines. You accomplished all of these things because you knew you could—you fought. You worked hard and earned this.” Samora reassures, “but these false ideas that you have because of what someone else caused shouldn’t diminish anything that you’ve done and continue to do.”

Carmy pulls out his phone and a pack of chewing gum, “tell that to my brain then. The review is up, Sammy.”

Samora’s eyes meet Carmy’s as he shoves a square piece into his mouth, elbows on his knees as they start to bounce, head dropping just a bit. She reaches for the phone, giving him a side eye since there’s no passcode on it, and is brought right to a webpage.

~THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE~

Reviewed by Ad. Shap

Carmen doesn’t have to look at Samora’s face to take in her reaction. He ultimately knows it’ll be different from what the blue in his brain says. There were many things wrong with the review, mostly wrong than good and that’s why he needed someone from the outside to see before seeing how the crew digested this.

Samora usually does this humming when she’s reading or thinking about something and that doesn’t seem to change. When she’s finished she puts the phone face down on the outdoor table and folds her fingers together as she sits back.

“Well…That was reminiscent to my short lived cookie career.”

Carmy widens his eyes as he sets them back on his friend.

She shields her face instantly, “whoa turn down the opacity on those things will ya?”

“Your cookie business failed.”

“Um, no. Fuck you for that by the way,” Samora glared, “I view it as that wasn’t the way the chapter was meant to be told. I wasn’t heavily devoted to culinary like you. Nobody is that I know of. It was just a hobby for me but you turned your craft into something much more: breathe, sleep—well—you let it consume you pros and cons. Surely these reviews are deeply important because impressions are…tricky but not everything is the way you see it.”

Carmy scoffs with a rub to his lips in annoyance, “what the fuck do you mean it’s not the way I see it? It’s my business and I’ve been backstabbed by a prick I worked with—

“Carmy—

“I can’t be a screw up! I won’t be. I’ve been at this for so long and I’m more than tired and shitty in the head but not enough to throw it all away no matter what some four eyed fucker with a typewriter for a laptop says!” Carmy is on his feet now pacing, “I picked up what Mikey left behind, I put in the time and the effort, I removed parts of myself to be untouchable—

Samora shakes her head, “you’re not though and some part of you knows that. None of us are unbreakable, babe. You just…start over as many times until it feels right.”

“See I don’t—

Carmy swallows the lump in his throat to speak clearly, “that’s the problem, I don’t think I know what feels right or if I ever did. I just know circumstances.”

Samora inhales as she gets to her feet too, “okay then. Take everything that you bottled up and let it out there.” She points over the edge of the balcony, “you have to try to acknowledge the good and let some things go or you’ll forever feel stuck instead of moving forward…but I’m no therapist just a decorator who’s still annoyed that you didn’t reach out to revamp the bear—but that’s another conversation, just a friend who knows a little something something that’ll help.”

“Uh, something something?” Carmy repeats feeling his heart race as Samora waved her painted hand out for Carmy’s tatted one.

He takes her hand as she leads the way to the balcony but not close enough to trigger any vertigo. Carmy always loved the view at Samora’s compared to his own childhood home, which contrasted with no view at all—his bedroom didn’t have any windows, just a closed in space—and he was stuck hearing the common yelling between Donna and Mikey.

Carmy could see the top of a neighbor’s red brick building (thanks to how many floors the greystone had) across the street, along with another home to the left and a row of other houses to the right. Behind the house across the street sat the changing color of lights and beyond that was the liveliness of Chicago in the distance, the farmer’s market he personally loved and had Tina make the runs to, other great eateries, and music spots also weren’t far from Samora’s.

The woman rests a hand right in the center of his chest and Carmy can feel himself panting, “No one ever has to know if you have it all figured out…nobody truly does. Put down some of those dishes bear, out there. Not to hibernate but to be the best version of yourself for you and not what anyone tells you, you should be.”

His eyes burn and he feels like he might let some tears fall some more tonight and he finds that comfort in Samora. Something good from his past that was still present although his version is always different, he doesn’t mind much if she see’s any water that slips from the corners. He knows she won’t say anything about it, and her hand doesn’t move from his chest as she’s almost coaching him how to deal with just a portion of his bullshit.

He couldn’t figure it out for himself.

Yet he was willing to learn.

The scream curdles from the back of his throat, bursting through his lips into the night. He curls into his stomach some, the weight present, the firmness of Samora’s hand on his chest, and his face is hot in the summer air, turning pink as he fights to breathe through his screams. Samora is right there with him, her screams were much more melodic, like she’s had the practice while Carmy is testing it out.

His screams have been buried just like everything else he’s bottled up for years.

After, his throat is raw and voice hoarse as he sniffs, he abruptly turns to Samora, pulling her into another hug. She isn’t tense against him, small laughter falling through her own lips while Carmy hold’s onto her.

Calming down.

“love you,” he manages to get out while Samora scratches his back.

She knows he means it and it’s probably something he needed to hear back as of lately.

Samora sighs, “love you too, turd.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pulling back to meet her stare and she winks at him.

“…if I didn’t love the both of you, I might be highly concerned at whatever the hell that was.” Joel announces his arrival after a few moments of silence.

His arms are folded but he’s got that Berzatto sly grin on his lips as Carmy slowly lets his hands fall from Samora’s forearms. The shorter haired man makes his way over to the two, hands going to both of their shoulders as he peers back and forth.

“You made it.”

“I—yeah.” Carmy clears his throat with a shake of his head, “I did.”

“Good,” Joel dips his head but it feels more like a question than a comment.

carmy shrugs.

Samora claps her hands gaining both cousins’ attention, “let’s have some of Mora’s Mosa’s as a celebratory of the night—was the work day alright for you, love?”

Joel awkwardly nods his head back and forth as a way to show that it was so-so.

“Works for me!” Samora yells, “to the kitchen!”

“It’s midnight, honey.” Joel tells Samora who twists her lips to the side, “and I’m sure Carmy doesn’t want any of that green shit you had in the fridge.”

Samora gasps, “damn, who knew my boyfriend would be my biggest critic?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t get sensitive on me now!”

She shrugs his hand from her shoulder while Joel’s low lidded eyes sends a look to Carmy who raises his hands in surrender.

In a hoarse tone he replies, “I actually like the gazpacho so…you’re on your own with that one.”

“Woooow, okay.” Joel breathes out a laugh, then bites down on his bottom lip while Carmy moves to grab his phone and fallen gum pack.

Carmy then turns to watch the two bicker like an old married couple but it doesn’t get loud at all. Joel does talk with his hands to get his point across and Carmy can pinpoint the exact moment Samora cracks, the corner of her nose twitches with amusement before Joel tests the waters, gripping her hips to place a tender kiss on her lips, which Samora seems to kiss back before they break apart. Smiles on both of their faces before they turn back to Carmy who’s attempting to sneak off down the steps.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Joel asks, “you think you can just go off when you and I didn’t get any one on one time?”

Carmy taps his phone against his hand, “It’s getting late, don’t want to impose any further.”

Joel rolls his eyes, tossing an arm across Carmy’s shoulder, “shut your trap, you’re home, man.”

And with that Carmy is led back into the house.

He doesn’t think he’s slept long, but when he checks the time on his slowly dying phone, it’s already later into the next morning.

8:37am and he has no idea what this day is going to look like but it’s a Sunday…maybe for once he doesn’t have to. One of the rooms he’s tucked in belonged to one of Samora’s adopted brothers, Jacobi, Carmy guesses since there’s still a large crack against the ceiling thanks to a lighting strike that occurred way back when they were all kids.

He sits up for a while, taking in the view one last time before he starts to make his exit. He’s walking down the path towards the gate and stops as he hears the front door open.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Samora tells him as he turns to face her, the woman hugging her robe to herself as she’s sitting on the front step.

Carmy stretches a small smile on his dry lips, “Never that,” he jokes, “thanks for always being here, Sammy. Dunno if I ever told you that enough…probably not since I’m always in my head but uh—give Joel my thanks too for me this time.”

Samora dips her head and says, “Surely.”

Carmy scoffs as he pulls the gate back before putting his palm up in the air, “see you soon.”

“After while, crocodile.” She kisses her fingertips before waving them at him.

Samora watches Carmy go, hoping he starts putting the pieces together instead of forcing it all apart like he’s always been accustomed to.

When Monday comes along, his hands are resting along the trimming of white counter as he’s slightly shifting his head back and forth at all the greenery situated in front of him.

“Morning Chef,” Marcus greets first as he’s followed in by Tina.

Carmy nods his head in greeting.

Tina’s eyes immediately go to all the herbs and vegetables, “Jeffery, what’s all this?”

“Something new, green, for the menu.” Carmy informs, “I realized we haven’t had family dinner in a while and i want all of your inputs for what we’ll have tonight.”

Tina and Marcus share a glance, having a feeling that this had something to do with the new review. They all briefly talked about it in the group chat over the weekend.

“Okay, cool. We’re gonna just go put our stuff down.” Marcus points and Carmy keeps his eyes on the ingredients.

“Take your time, Chefs.” Carmy calls out after some time as the two have already started making their way towards the lockers.

He closes his eyes, trying to slow the rising beat of his heart, deeply inhaling as he ignores the contrast of oxygen between his two nostrils, that was another problem he’s gotten used to, his eyes open just in time to meet the green again as the back doors swing open, revealing the rest of his team gradually.

Carmy had work to do and he’s never been afraid of hard work.

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[astrology-by-sita]

DON'T SLEEP ON YOUR SECT LIGHT

apart from the asc lord, the sect light shows who you are. It also shows how you "shine" . It's also your health, wellbeing, vitality and stamina.

The sun is about ambition, power and authority. Authority of course comes with responsibility.

The Moon represents the mind - desires! Again, the mind desires , not the heart. Indulging to much in desires can affect you negatively though .

The sun prefers to be in an active diurnal sign (air and fire).

The Moon prefers to be in a nocturnal receptive sign (earth or water)

If the sun is in a nocturnal sign it gets frustrated cause it is forced to slow down. The moon in a diurnal sign is confused, wanting to speed up while desires take time to materialize fully on earth.

The bound ruler of the sect light shows the limits within which the sect light has to act. The luminarias rule no bounds, so they're always answering to the limits of some other planet. The sun would rather have a diurnal planet as its bound ruler, while the Moon, nocturnal.

TRIPLICITY RULERS OF THE SECT LIGHT

Now the serious work. The 1st two triplicity rulers of the sect light show the quality of life, wealth, happiness. The 1st triplicity ruler is about the 1st part of life. The 2nd triplicity ruler is about the 2nd part of life. The 3rd one is only supposed to support so they call it "cooperating ruler".

You can check the condition of each triplicity ruler to determine the happiness and wealth of the individual. Is the trip. ruler angular or succedent?

If so then it's a good indicator. Is it a benefic or malefic?

You can determine the exact timing of when the 1st triplicity ruler hands over to the 2nd using the minor years of the planets based on their synodic cycle.

Sun has 19 years.

Moon: 25

Mercury: 20

Venus: 8

Saturn: 30

Jupiter: 12

Mars: 15

There's a theory that you have to subtract 1 year to determine the age of the individual in which the shift occurred. For example if Jupiter has 12 years as a 1st triplicity ruler then the shift occurred when the person was 11 years old.

You can also use the ascentional times of the zodiac signs in the same way. There's a table of those in Chris Brennan's book. And if you're lazy like me, astro seek website will give you those automatically when you choose the Traditional Astrology option.

It shows them like this. This is from Shakira's chart. Let's use her as an example. Aquarius sun in 11h as the sect light - air triplicity in day charts is Saturn, mercury, Jupiter.

Saturn period is 30 years so at 29 years old a shift occurred for her. It was when she released one of her greatest hits in English, Hips Don't Lie featuring Wyclef Jean. Her Saturn is succedent in the 5th house of creativity. YES it's in adversity and retrograde but in its own bound.

Her 2nd triplicity ruler of the sect light is mercury in Capricorn. It is angular ! The ascentional time of Capricorn in her latitude (10°59'North) is almost 31°. So when she was 30 years old, that angular Mercury took over. During that time she was on her Oral Fixation tour, in which she visited 6 continents, and performed for the 1st time at the Grammy Awards. She was awarded "The Best Pop Collaboration with Vocals" for her hit Hips Don't Lie.

She released a song with Beyonc��, and she did the soundtrack of the movie adaptation of the famous novel "Love In The Time of Cholera". Tbh her songs are the only good thing about that movie which butchered a literary masterpiece. Anyway i digress...

This is the main point of this technique. I hope i was clear in explaining it. Study your sect light in depth. I am still learning just as you are .

Triplicity rulers for day charts for all elements :

Fire signs : sun, Jupiter, Saturn

Air signs : Saturn, mercury, Jupiter

Earth signs : Venus, Moon, Mars

Water signs : Venus, Mars, moon

For Night charts :

Fire signs : Jupiter, sun, Saturn

Air signs : Mercury, Saturn, Jupiter

Earth signs : moon, Venus, Mars

Water signs : Mars, Venus, moon

[skzhocomments]

Best Friend - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC (name: Isa. Story is written in 2nd person)

Genre: best friends AU, mature, fluff

Word Count: ~5k

Warnings: explicit mature content, swearing etc.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan's true character in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

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Summary

You and Chan have been best friends for many years, and despite the attraction you feel towards him, you've never dared cross the line. That is, until the two of you end up watching a very explicit movie and you take that leap of courage.

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A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

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Best Friend

“Hey, what’s up?” Your best friend Chris picks up the phone, and you can hear faint sounds of traffic on the other side of the line.

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Not really. Did anything happen?” He asks, slight worry lacing his tone.

“Do you wanna come over and see a movie?”

“Oh, tonight? Didn’t you have a date or something?”

“My date cancelled on me!” You whine. You didn’t seem to have much luck with dating apps, because this always seemed to happen to you.

No matter how many people you’d match with, something would inevitably go wrong. You’d either lose interest too quickly when chatting, so you wouldn’t even accept a date, or, if the sun would shine bright enough on your alley and you’d find someone worth dating, something would come up on your side, or your date would bail on you.

“Oh, no! Again?!” Chris exclaims, seemingly as upset as you.

“Yes! Again! I don’t fucking get it! Why am I so unlucky?!” You exclaim with a pout. “I’m all dressed up too! Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I didn’t leave the house at least. But seriously, I put in so much effort, I even bought a new outfit, for fuck’s sake!”

“Aw, I’m sorry Isa. Yeah, I’m free tonight. Actually, I had to drop something at Bin, so I’m like 5 minutes away.”

“Come over, then!” You chirp.

“Coming right up. Want me to bring you anything?”

“Just your amazing self.” You chuckle and say goodbye, ending the call.

5 minutes later, your doorbell rings, and you open the door with a large smile plastered across your face, inviting your best friend in.

You and Chris met a couple of years ago and got close in no time, due to your apparently endless common interests and conversation topics. You became close friends, and meeting up is a weekly occurrence at least. Sometimes life gets too busy, especially for him, who’s a workaholic with seemingly no free days ever, but he always makes sure to make time for you and visit or asks you to come over if he’s too worn out to get out of the house.

Other than actually meeting up, you chat most of the day, and you always thought that you and Chris had quite a good synergy. However, in these few years of you seeing each other regularly, it became clear to you that even if you find him attractive, he doesn’t see you the same way, so you never dared to cross the line.

You enjoy his presence way too much to somehow mess it up by doing something stupid, like confess your lingering feelings that are inappropriate to say the least towards a simple best friend. Some days it’s hard to control your heartbeat who’s erratically beating when he says or does something that makes your legs grow weak and your heart flutter, but you’re doing your best to ensure that you don’t overstep. That’s why you’re trying to go on all these pointless dates and meet these people that you’re almost never interested in.

The moment you see him, your face lights up, and all your disappointment regarding the cancelled date wears off. He is dressed casually, in some black gym trousers and a large hoodie that he immediately takes off as soon as he steps inside.

Underneath, he is wearing a fitted black shirt, and oh, fuck, how can someone look so good in casual clothes, you wonder?

“Is this the outfit?” He asks, pointing to your two piece – a short white skirt and a matching blouse.

“Yeah. I didn’t have time to take my make-up off or change, sorry.” You chuckle.

“Such an idiot, that guy who cancelled on you. You look amazing, Isa.” He compliments you, but you don’t read too much into it, because that’s just who he is. He’s always throwing compliments around, to anyone.

“Aw, thank you, Channie.” You pout and burst out laughing.

“He’s missing out. But hey, I got to see it, so…” He shrugs. “Do a pirouette, will you?” He asks with a large smile and puts his hands on your waist, helping you spin around so he can admire your full outfit.

That’s the other thing about Chris – he is a very touchy person. It’s quite frustrating, really, that you always seem to be up in his arms cuddling, that he’s touching you so comfortably, and it doesn’t mean anything. It never does.

“Just gorgeous. This fits you perfectly.” He compliments again.

“Thank you, really. Now I feel better. Appreciated.” You chuckle at his words. “And look, I got a matching bag as well!” You grab it from the coat rack and pose with it, making silly faces, and Chris immediately starts laughing.

“Lovely bag. It’s so small, though! What fits in there?”

“Oh, Chris, you don’t anything!” You laugh. “I have a million lip glosses in it, at least!”

“In that small thing?” He gasps, opening his mouth. “I don’t believe it till I see it, sorry.”

“Look, then!” You open it up and show him your little collection of mini glosses you’re keeping in your bag at all times. Lip gloss is simply like air to you, and you’re used to reapply it multiple times throughout the day. You just love it.

“Damn, that’s weird. It’s like there’s a magic spell or something making it fit more in it than it should.”

“You think?” You laugh at his antics, putting the bag away. “Anyway, I’ll go get changed and take my make-up off, and then I’ll join you in the living room? You can pick the movie.”

“I get to pick? What an honour!” He laughs. “Can I take your make-up off, though?”

“Oh, do you want that?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, and you do, too.

“Alright, let me get in some comfy clothes and I’ll be right there.”

“Sure.” Chris smiles again and heads to the living room, waiting for you.

Your outfit looks great, but it’s also a bit too tight and a tad uncomfortable, so the moment you step out of it, you feel amazing. You take your bra off too and grab a large t-shirt and some pyjama pants and make your way to the bathroom to bring the cleanser and some make-up remover pads.

“There you go, have fun.” You give Chris everything and close your eyes as he begins to slowly rub the make-up off your face.

“I don’t even understand why you’re wearing all this stuff. You’re so beautiful without it.” Chris mumbles, making you chuckle.

“I look better with it, though. If I don’t wear it when I go out, I feel naked.”

“Really? It makes no sense though, when you’re so pretty.” He hums, continuing to gently remove the make-up. “I think this should be it.”

“Oh, I also do my neck and a bit of my chest, here.” You ignore the compliment and grab the collar of your t-shirt pulling it down, exposing more skin as you roll your head back.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to take your shirt off?” Chris asks, continuing to rub your neck.

“If you want to see me naked, it would.” You chuckle.

For a brief second, you actually consider taking your shirt off just to see how Chris would react, but that is crossing the line.

You shouldn’t.

“Oh.” Chris says quietly pressing his lips together, his ears painting a soft shade of red. “It’s alright, I’ll just do it like this.”

“Thought so.” You laugh and feel as he places a hand steadily on your neck, making sure to wipe the make-up off properly.

The action also makes you blush, and you get a weird feeling in your chest that you want to brush over as quickly as possible. Dangerous thoughts.

“Okay, done.” Chris places the make-up remover on the table, then grabs all the discarded remover pads. “I’ll go throw these out.”

“I’ll also go do my skincare; it shouldn’t take more than 10 minutes.”

“No hurry, Isa.” He smiles, so you go to the bathroom and wash your face, doing your skincare routine and trying to hurry up anyway, just to make sure you don’t keep him waiting for too long, not that he would mind. If anything, Chris is a patient person.

“Alright, did you pick a movie?”

“Yeah, how about this one?” He points to the screen, and you squint your eyes to read the small title.

“Love? What is it about?”

“Not sure, but someone recommended it to me, so I said, heck, why not?”

“Let’s read the IMDB summary…” You pick up your phone and look it up, and immediately burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Chris, this is basically porn! Murphy enters a highly sexually and emotionally charged relationship with Electra. Unaware of the effect it will have on their relationship, they invite their pretty neighbour into their bed.”

“Oh, my God. Okay, let’s choose something else-”

“No, no, let’s watch it.” You laugh, grabbing the remote control from his hands and pressing play.

As soon as the film starts, so does a very explicit sex scene.

“Wow, they surely didn’t leave anything to the imagination!” Chris exclaims, and you put your hand against your mouth in shock.

“Yeah, they didn’t. It feels like we missed 20 episodes.”

10 minutes later, another sex scene comes on screen.

“This is just porn, isn’t it?” You burst out laughing, watching as Chan’s ears grew red.

“I’m so sorry Isa, I-I really didn’t know-” He stutters, and that only makes you laugh louder.

“No, no, don’t apologise. Who the heck recommended this to you?”

“Felix, damn.”

“He has a specific taste, I guess…” You shake your head amused. “Not gonna lie, though, watching porn with my best friend was not on my bingo card this year.”

“Yeah, neither. Damn.” Chris laughs.

“They seem like they’re having a great time, though.” You affirm. “Should’ve been me tonight, but, oh, well, my date cancelled.”

“What?” He asks shocked but slightly amused. “Do you fuck on the first date, Isa?”

“Hmm, depends on who my date is and if I’m into him?” You tilt your head. “Haven’t been with anyone in a while, though…”

Chris clears his throat.

“What about you?” You ask back, and Chris immediately turns to look at you.

“What, do I have sex on the first date, or have I had sex lately?”

“Both.”

“Well, I- wait. Why are we talking about this again?” He laughs uncomfortably and rubs his nape. He seems nervous, you think, and sort of enjoy seeing him look so embarrassed.

“I mean, you asked first! It’s only natural you tell me!” You sit up on the sofa and move closer to him, the people fucking on the screen already not presenting any interest to you whatsoever.

“Uhm, I mean… I’m more of a gentleman, I guess? I don’t really have sex unless I really like that person, and it takes me more than a date to figure it out usually.”

“Hmm…”

“And I haven’t had any in a while either. The last date I’ve been on didn’t go that well, I figured we don’t really have much in common, so…”

“Ah, I see. So, we both have blue balls.”

“Isa!” He bursts out laughing.

“What? It’s true!”

Chan’s eyes are burning into yours, and you realised that even though you’ve been friends for years, you’ve never really spoken about sex or anything of that sort.

You wonder what he likes in bed – is he the dominant type, or would he let you take control?

Damn, you really shouldn’t think of that.

“I’m gonna go get some water.” You stand up. “Want any?”

“Do you want me to pause this?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

“Then, bring me a glass too, please.”

“Alright. Be right back.” You haste to the kitchen and shake your head repeatedly, trying to not think of Chris like that.

He’s your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

He’s your best friend.

“Thanks, Isa.” He smiles sweetly as he grabs the glass from your slightly trembling hands.

“So… I guess we’re having a threesome now.” You blurt out, your eyes stuck on the screen.

“What?”

“The film.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Apparently.”

You continue watching the screen in silence for a little while, until you feel your neck get stiff, so you start stretching a bit, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Uncomfortable?” Chris asks.

“Mhm, a bit. I should maybe grab some pillows. Or even better, buy a better sofa.”

“Or you could just come here.” He pats his thigh, so you don’t hesitate to drop your head in his lap, continuing to watch the film as Chris runs his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp softly.

“Damn, you’re really good with your hands.” You say teasingly with a little chuckle, but you are unaware of Chris’ inner turmoil.

He’s been having a raging erection in his pants for the past 30 minutes, and your head is wayyy too close to his crotch, and he shouldn’t have asked you to put your head in his lap, and he should definitely not play with your hair when the only thing he wants to do is grab a fistful of it and guide your mouth towards his dick.

“Uhm, Isa?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, my leg is a bit tired. Mind if you sit up?”

“Oh, of course. Sorry.” You immediately follow, but Chris doesn’t let you get too far away, he guides your head to his shoulder and continues playing with your hair as his breath hitches in his throat.

You instinctively reach around his abdomen and hug him from the side, something you’ve done a million times before, as you and Chris often cuddle.

However, at one point throughout the movie, Chris leans over to grab his glass of water from the table, and your hand drops to his crotch, moment when you feel something.

Your eyes dart to his, and he looks right back at you.

“Sorry, that’s-”

“Chris,” you cut him off with a whisper. “You’re so hard. Are you turned on right now?”

“Uhm…”

Looking into his eyes and seeing how he’s looking at you makes something burn in your chest, and for the first time ever since you’ve known him, you decide to take that leap of courage and press your lips against his.

You close your eyes tightly and wait for him to push you away, to reject you, but to your surprise, he does the exact opposite. He places his hand on your waist and kisses you back, biting your lips and leaning over, his body pushing yours into the sofa, as he gets on top of you.

Neither of you say anything, you just kiss and bite each other’s lips with so much passion, you can’t even think of anything else but him. He is a good kisser, and with each touch of your tongues, your heart flutters in both excitement and anxiety. The line has been crossed, and you don’t know what that will mean for your friendship.

He moves his hand under your shirt and begins raising it higher and higher, and you get goosebumps all over as he finally palms your left breast.

You moan against his mouth as his fingers begin playing with your nipple softly, but then he pulls back, looking at you with so much desire, you think you’re going to faint.

“Isa, fuck. You look so fucking good, baby.” He mumbles breathless, his chest rising up and down.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?” You ask hopeful, afraid he would change his mind.

“Yeah.” He nods and helps you up, and you’re trembling with anticipation as you let him grab your hand and lead the way to your room.

Once you’re in, he turns around and kisses you again and again. You move your hands on his back, helping him take off his shirt, and in return, he takes off yours.

“Damn, Chris. All those months in the gym really paid off.” You gasp, seeing how good he looks, letting your hands travel all over his exposed chest and abdomen.

“Yeah?” He chuckles softly. “Do you like how I look?”

“Like? No, Chris, it’s way more than that. You look so fucking perfect.” You say, and you see him blush slightly, so you carefully approach him, all the urgency from before gone, and you kiss his lips slowly, letting your hands explore his body and feeling him melt under your touch.

You move your lips lower and kiss his jaw, then his neck, his hands finding the back of your waist and pulling your body closer into his.

“Really?” He asks, rolling his head back slightly to allow you better access to kiss him, so you do.

“Mhm.” You hum, pressing your lips against his neck and nibbling on his skin lightly, making sure to not leave any bruises, and you listen to all the sounds he’s making, and hearing him moan in pleasure gives you a rush. You want to pleasure him more, to give it your all and make him feel good.

You move your lips lower and fall to your knees in front of him, looking up and seeing his eyes stuck on yours as you grab the hem of his trousers and silently ask for permission to pull them off.

He seems impatient, such a contrast to all the other times he’s shown you what a patient man he is, so you don’t hesitate to drag them down, watching as his cock bounces slightly in front of you.

You grab it and begin rubbing it up and down slowly, bringing your lips closer and connecting them to his tip, beginning to lick around and hearing the way his breathing changes.

He groans in pleasure as you open your mouth and bob your head into his crotch and back, trying to set a rhythm and making sure you’re not forcing yourself and triggering your gag reflex. He’s quite big, bigger than you expected, so this is definitely a challenge.

“Shit, baby. Can you take more?” He asks in a low voice, putting his hand on the back of your head and waiting for you to reply.

You hum again, sending vibrations against his dick, and he groans once more before guiding your head closer. It’s hard to take in his whole length, so you grab his hips for support and try your hardest to relax your throat and allow him in.

“You’re doing so well, fuck.” He compliments, keeping his hand on the back of your head without pushing you anymore. Instead, he’s letting you set the pace, to take as much as you can, and doesn’t force you.

After a little while, Chris places both of his hands on your face and pushes you away, which confuses you for a brief moment.

“Was it not good?” You frown slightly.

“No, no, baby, it was. It was the best. I just don’t wanna come like that. I need to feel you, hm?” He reassures you, helping you stand up and pulling you into a messy kiss.

Chris suddenly bends down and grabs your thighs, making you jump in his arms, and heads towards the bed with you, letting you down gently as he kisses you again.

“You’re so beautiful, Isa.” He says, looking into your eyes, making your stomach feel funny and your chest fill with happiness.

“Thank you.” You say with a little laugh, making him chuckle as well.

“I’m serious. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Isa. You look like heaven. I can’t even imagine what you sound like when you’re all messed up. Fuck, I want to hear your pretty moans so bad.” He says, making you blush, and begins doing to you exactly what you’ve done to him.

He presses open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, but he doesn’t shy away from sucking on your skin and leaving hickeys, marking his way down your body.

As he reaches your breasts, he takes one of your nipples is his mouth and moves his hand lower on your abdomen, dragging his fingers across your skin and making your shiver as he finally gets down to your pyjama pants. He’s playing a bit with the hem of your pants, and you close your eyes in anticipation, waiting for him to finally put you out of your misery and touch you.

“Chris, please…” You say, impatient.

He separates his mouth from your chest and rises right above you, looking you right in the eyes, and you’ve never seen that look in them before. They are dark and filled with desire, definitely matching yours, but yours must look pleading instead of confident.

“Please, what?” He asks, before going down to your neck again. He moves his fingers under the hem of your pants, but lets it rest there, on top of your lower abdomen, rubbing circles slowly, teasingly.

“God, please… Please touch me.”

“Yeah? Do you want that, baby?” He kisses your neck softly, before grabbing your skin between his lips again and sucking strongly, making you moan and clench your legs together. “Should I touch you right here?” He asks again, finally pressing his fingers against your pussy

“Fuck, yes.” Your roll your head back as you feel Chris rubbing you slowly.

“Do you like that?” He asks almost menacingly.

“Mhm, I do.”

“Yeah? Does it feel really good?”

“Yes, it does.” You immediately answer, and he chuckles.

“You know what I think would be better?” He asks and removes his hand, much to your displeasure, but as you see him kneel on the bed and move right between your legs, you bite your bottom lip.

He drags your pants down excruciatingly slowly, his fingers connected to your skin the whole time as the fabric disappears from your body. Then, he places his hands on the back of your knees and forces your legs apart, and for a few seconds, he just stares at you, which gets slightly intimidating and uncomfortable for you.

“Uhm…” You start, unsure if there’s something wrong. Maybe he doesn’t like what he sees, maybe-

“My fucking God. Your pussy is perfect.” He says, and before you get the chance to reply, he connects his mouth to it and begins licking it.

His tongue is hot against your core, and it’s simply insane how good it feels. It’s like he knows exactly where to lick, he’s using the perfect pressure, and – God, you feel so good, you instinctively want to clench your legs again, but you can’t. He is keeping them apart with his hands, not letting you move at all, no matter how much you struggle.

When he lets go of your legs, you assume he’s grown tired of pleasuring you, and you are more than happy to welcome him on top of you and let him do whatever he wants. But instead of feeling the bed shift with his weight, you are surprised to see him still stay in the same position, his tongue still licking against your clit while you feel two of his fingers teasing your entrance.

Your clutch the sheets tightly for support, your hands balling into fists around the fabric as you feel his two fingers slip in you, curving just right to touch that sweet spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

He doesn’t need to do much else for you to come undone, to let go on his tongue and fingers with a loud whine, your legs trembling and your hand finding his head to move him away.

Chris separates himself from you by pressing kisses on your thighs, before immediately moving his mouth your abdomen, climbing his way up your body as you’re recovering from one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

“Fucking hell!” You exclaim.

“Hell? I’d say that was heaven, though.” He chuckles lowly.

“Damn, you’re so good with your mouth, it’s unbelievable.” You compliment, letting him settle between your legs as you feel his hard on press against you. “You made me feel so good.”

“Isa, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He replies, moving his hips forward and entering you slowly, making you roll your head back.

He reconnects his lips with your neck as he’s fucking into you slowly, groaning each time he bottoms out into you, and you match him all the same, letting out soft moans each time you feel his whole length, each time he hits the sensitive spot inside of you.

You lock your legs around his hips, giving him even deeper access, and he continues fucking into you slowly for a bit, raising his head and kissing you softly over and over again.

“Don’t go on other dates, Isa, I’ll take you out anywhere, anytime. I’ll make you feel perfect, hm?” He says in-between your kisses.

You wonder if he means it, or if it’s just something he’s saying in the spur of a moment, but the way he’s fucking you feels more like making love than having sex. Gently, slowly, passionately, perfectly. You could drown in this feeling.

“Mhm, I won’t. I’m all yours, Chris.” You reply, closing your eyes, afraid to see his expression.

You’re afraid you’re going to see that he doesn’t feel the same, that he didn’t get the confession hidden behind your words.

I love you.

You wish you could say that, and you wish he’d say it too.

You wish he wouldn’t have felt so good on top of you. Maybe if you wouldn’t have been sexually compatible , you would’ve lost interest. Or, maybe, you should’ve never crossed the line and have your feelings blurred into one other.

Chris, your best friend.

Chris, the best partner you’ve ever been with sexually.

Chris, the man you’ve looked for in every other man you’ve ever dated and had sex with for the past many years.

“Baby, can we switch? I want to ride you so bad.” You say, feeling suddenly vulnerable under him.

You want to be in control. That way, your chest might not feel so tight.

“Yes, give me a moment.” He replies, burying himself deep in you again, kissing your lips and letting his tongue dance with yours.

Chris pulls back and plops right next to you, waiting patiently for you to straddle him, and as you do, you let yourself fall on his cock.

You let out a soft moan at the feeling, straightening your back and beginning to ride him fast, in opposite contrast to his previous slowly and precise movements.

Chris is quick to moan and raise his hands on your boobs, palming them softly as you bounce on his dick. Just as earlier, his movements seem calculated as he begins dragging his hands lower, making your skin melt under his touch.

He puts one hand on your waist and with the other, he begins rubbing your clit again, and once more, you feel yourself getting close, your movements becoming more erratic.

“Oh, God.” You roll your head back as you feel your whole body tremble, welcoming the bliss of another powerful orgasm that makes you collapse right on top of him.

“Good girl.” He compliments, beginning to raise his hips and fucking himself into you from underneath.

“Feels so good.” You say, kissing his neck messily as his moans get louder.

“I’m so, so close baby.” He speaks between hurried breaths.

“Let go, then.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobe slowly, and with a grunt and a final push, he starts cumming, filling you up. He continues moving his hips slowly for a few more moments, and when he’s done, he pulls out of you, so you roll over and collapse right next to him, both of your chests falling up and down as you try to regulate your breathing.

Neither of you say anything, you just lay next to each other in silence, the only sounds being your still hurried breaths.

“So, I wasn’t just horny.” Chris starts speaking after a little while.

“What?” You chuckle.

“I actually… I really like you. I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want you to go on dates with other people, to have someone else make you laugh at their jokes or to kiss them. I don’t want anyone else to see your perfect body, or your face when you come, or hear your moans. I want to be the only one who gets to see those.” He says, making your eyes widen at the sudden confession.

“Chris, I-”

“I’m really, really, really in love with you, Isa. I love you so much, and I’ve been in love with you since forever.”

“Really?” You ask. “But you never said anything… Why?”

“I don’t know... I guess I was just afraid of somehow losing you if I were to ever confess to you.” He says softly, and you understand him completely, and you can’t blame him for being a coward.

You’ve also been a coward.

“Me too… I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met, but… I’ve also been scared to say anything, because what if you would’ve rejected me, or stopped talking to me, or…?” You shake your head and turn around to hug him from the side, and he welcomes you in his arms, hugging you back tightly.

It feels intimate, to lay like this in bed naked next to Chris, to feel his heartbeat pulse against your hand, and his breath on your face, and you love this feeling more than anything.

For the first time in years, you feel content. You feel that maybe you weren’t that unlucky when it came to love; you just happened to search for it in the wrong places, when it’s always been right in front of you.

“So… I guess we’re together now?” He asks, and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Mhm, I guess so.” You nod and press a small kiss against his neck.

“We should really get cleaned up, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, we should.” You laugh. “Shower?”

“Sounds good. Together?”

“Please.”

~The End~

[byfulcrums]

Am I the only one who doesn't really like the way they aged up Astrid in the 2nd and 3rd movies??

Like, don't get me wrong, she's still a great character, and she's gorgeous. But I think that last thing might be the problem

They made her appearance too perfect (especially in the 3rd movie). I mean, she always had some of that in her. She's skinny, blond and has blue eyes and a tiny noae. But in the first movie, she's so much more... human

Look at her. Look at her teeth, specifically. They're imperfect, even if they're still white. Her eyes have a little darkness(? surrounding them, tho idk if that's just a stylistic choice or eyebags

Look at the way her face is built too. She has a somewhat big (not actually big, but bigger than it is in the other movies) forehead and you can see that she has freckles in this picture. When she smiles, her upper teeth show. Her face is more like, uh, the bottom of a heart than circle too. Idk how to describe it

Imperfect teeth, reddish face (though that might just be the lighting), dark spots around her face

Now look at her in here. Her teeth are just... perfect. She's perfect. Her forehead is smaller too, and her skin is completely clear and smooth (when you grow up, your face and body changes, I know that. She still does seem like Astrid! But as far as I know, teeth don't completely change shape as you grow up. Unless you pay to change them or something. And I'm pretty sure Vikings didn't have that kind of stuff)

Her face is a lot rounder too

I mean, compare this

To this

There is a big difference

Now, I don't mind the HTTYD 2 model. I actually like it!! It's not that bad, there's just a few changes in the design that I didn't completely like (same with Toothless)

The second movie's Astrid really does feel like Astrid, even though she's changed from the girl she was as a teen. She may not be the child who tackled Hiccup to protect him from Toothless anymore, but she is still Astrid Hofferson, and it shows in both her appearance and manners

But the HTTYD 3 models are just... not it

Perfect teeth, somehow even smoother skin, beautiful soft-looking hair

I'm not a big fan of how the high quality of HTTYD 3 makes the characters look. Honestly I just don't like the third movie at all

(I do like the smile lines, though. I admit they did a pretty good job with that)

And if you thought the second movie made her head a little rounder, then just look at this

She's a fucking square!! She got the Toothless treatment!!!

ANYWAY-- this is just my opinion, so don't come attack me for it. I just don't like those small things from the second movie and everything about the third movie. Fuck the third movie

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

My knowledge of the books isn't as great, so I hope you don't mind this question. Where was Eomer during the First Battle at the Fords? Did he arrive in time to find Theodred's dead body? Was he there at all? Thank you so much!

I absolutely don’t mind, and I understand why this is something that’s not clear! The full timeline isn’t obvious even from the LOTR books — you have to supplement what we know about Éomer from Two Towers with info from Unfinished Tales, which has the only account of the battle where Théodred was killed. But the short answer is that Éomer was dealing with business elsewhere so he wasn’t part of the fighting at the Isen, and he never saw Théodred’s body — only his grave after the fact. Here’s the long answer:

In late February, Théodred was in the Westfold, which was his territory as 2nd Marshal. Scouts alerted him to troops from Isengard preparing to invade from the west. Acting on his own authority — because his dad was Not Well — he went to meet the challenge with Grimbold and their men and also sent a summons to Elfhelm in Edoras asking that he come with relief troops of his own. We don’t know *exactly* what Éomer was doing right then, but he was 3rd Marshal and his jurisdiction was the East-mark. So he had his own stuff going on, and the bulk of his men would be further away from the Isen than Elfhelm and his men were, so Elfhelm was a more natural relief choice.

The First Battle of the Fords of Isen happened on Feb. 25th, and Théodred was killed that night.   We’re not told what day he was buried, but we do know that his grave was there, with his banner flying above it, when the Second Battle of the Fords began on March 2nd. So somewhere in between, Elfhelm and Grimbold buried Théodred at the Fords, right where he died. That means this image from the movies, while lovely and moving, is non-canonical — Théodred never got back to Edoras and wasn’t buried there:

News of Théodred’s death came first to Erkenbrand at Helm’s Deep on Feb. 26th, and Erkenbrand sent word on to Edoras. That messenger didn’t make it to Edoras until midday on the 27th, which is the same day Éomer set out to track down the band of orcs (those carrying Merry and Pip, it turns out) that had just been reported in the east. There is some ambiguity as to whether Éomer heard the news of Théodred’s death before he left or not, but he indisputably spent the next few days engrossed in other urgent stuff that would have kept him from grieving or visiting the grave — he had to go track down and slay those orcs; he ran into Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli in the plains and had to decide whether to let them go; and then, when he got back to Edoras, he got thrown in jail for having acted without orders and for letting those foreigners run free in Rohan. He didn’t get out of jail until March 2nd, when Gandalf healed Théoden, and then they were off straight away to Helm’s Deep.

It’s not until after victory has been achieved at Helm’s Deep and all our heroes are on the road to confront Saruman that they pass by the Isen and take notice of the graves that are there. It’s a bit of a sore point for me that NO ONE mentions that Théodred is among the dead (😵😖🤯), but at least Éomer is thinking of him because he is the one to mention the murder of Théodred among Saruman’s biggest crimes when Saruman is trying to sweet talk his way back into Théoden’s good graces once they get to Isengard (“Remember Théodred at the Fords and the grave of Háma in Helm’s Deep!”).

Anywho, obviously the movies chose to mix up the timelines and events a bit for their own dramatic purposes, since they have Éomer arriving at the tail end of the fighting at the Fords, finding Théodred still alive, and bringing him back to Edoras before his death and funeral. It’s a substantial change from the books, but I do really like that they found a way to put Théodred in the movies and to give proper weight and notice to his death! And thanks for the question, I hope the answer was helpful!

[somanywords]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Thanks so much for the tag, @moodymelanist!! It's gonna be a little less interesting today since I only published 2 fanfics this year, but I'm grateful for the opportunity to do a little reflection on this new year's eve. :)

🎲 Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

43k! Fun face, that is my 2nd largest yearly wordcount (having only been publishing on AO3 for three-ish years).

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

I completed a solid 2 fics! I had planned to complete a few more, but time got away from me this later half of the year...

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Oh, now here's a question I can be longwinded about ;) Good heavens, quite a few. By my count, I worked on 29 WIPs, 16 of which were born in the year of our lord 2024. Whew! Next year should be a year of completion and posting for me, if I have my way!

Noble WIP mentions: The Becca Barnes centric "they survive the war" AU that lives in my head RENT free right now; The fake dating modern AU where both Steve and Bucky are dear idiots; The post canon look at Jack and Les's relationship that I still don't know how to finish; and the 5 Six of Crows ideas I have fighting to get put on paper.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

This is so sad -- I have to pick between two like a terrible parent. I shall simply tell you what my favorite things about both were.

For tin cans with string, I had that beautiful clear view of the horizon the whole time. I knew where I was heading with vague island shapes to stop by on the way. For I saw you in a movie I heard it in a song, even though I had to rewrite so much while figuring out the story's arc, it was so FUN the whole time. 😌

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd have to go with I saw you in a movie I heard it in a song -- this was my first time writing for Newsies in a modern AU, which was new and experimental and entertaining. I really wanted to keep the characters feeling true and familiar despite their new setting/location.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

I've gotten a LOT of comments on tin cans with string with people telling me they cried for parts/the whole thing, which...I wasn't expecting? Like, yes, that fic is heavy and melancholy in parts, but that I created a work that gave readers emotions and feelings is so wild to me. I'm beyond happy about that, from an evil writer's point of view!

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

The Stevebucky fandom is so large and thriving that the Newsies fandom is very small and very young in comparison, so I guess I saw you in a movie I heard it in a song would fit this bill. (Check it out, if you're so inclined!)

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

This year? Hmm, @quezify and their gorgeous egg art is always inspiring me, and this year I even got to participate in the eggtober challenge! So fun! (And that's probably why I didn't get a fic posted in October when I was planning to...)

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

Oh my gosh, I am inspired by most everything I read. If it's right up my alley, I go crazy and want to be just like it and write a hundred things, and if it's not for me, I spend way too long thinking about how I'd write it more to my own personal tastes. I couldn't tag everyone, but all my friends and mutuals who share their gifts with us are simply incredible and I'm so grateful for them all!

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

Hmm, I'm not sure! I find most of what I read on rec lists, and then occasionally check out an author if they checked off a ton of ingredient boxes for me. My brain is short circuiting trying to recall

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

Not yet!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Both the fics I published this year were challenges to myself--tin cans with string was a specific set of new ingredients to challenge myself and a start to finish timeline and I feel like I really accomplished everything I set out to with that one. I saw you in a movie I heard it in a song was part of a mini-bang, and that was my first bang event of any kind, and I'm super proud of myself for getting out there and participating.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

This is a personal one I learned about myself this year: sometimes the clear vision and motivation is there. When it isn't...no deadline is going to force it to the surface. I can finish a project to meet a deadline, but I will not be happy with the end result. There's no rushing the soul of a story.

If anyone has any tips on "growing a muscle" to combat this or creating a way around the problem, I would love to hear it!

14. Any advice you'd like to share with new or aspiring writers?

What @moodymelanist said: if there's an idea you want to see, start writing it! I promise you, others would love to see it too. Also, don't be afraid to really focus on something smaller: one facet of a character, one scenario where the character reacts. Every time I start writing a new fandom, I tend to throw EVERY idea I have into a massive fic that never gets finished. I have to start smaller, start exploring. :)

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

In regards to the original fiction I'm working on constantly, I'd love to have a few chapters of my novel to share with friends and family. I'm in draft 2 right now, wrestling with inconsistency and plot, but I'm getting closer. Fanfic wise, I'd love to share a lot with you this coming year! 2024 was a rest year for my fic sharing, and let 2025 be a partying year, amen. :D

Whew, if you made it all the way down here, thank you! And I'll pass the tags on to @blurglesmurfklaine @piedoesnotequalpi @tessabennet @zenaidamacrouras1 @dharmasharks

@hipsterdiva @sparkagrace and anyone else who sees this and wants to join <3

[mammalsofaction]

Aw no, no!!!! You're so good!!! 😭 And, if any PnF thoughts come to mind I'll shoot an ask 😌

Tbh, I feel like Carl is probably the best answer here. Like, no matter the reason--- sympathy, blackmail, or just owing Perry a favor--- it would work. I can just imagine Perry keeping his reasons very vague. So, Carl would know enough--- replicator and the spare key set up in his lair--- to not ask questions. Like you said, no one would question him wanting that spare key for security reasons, and if he HAD to give a reason for having this stuff installed at all, he could just explain it's an end of the world measure. A last resort, a hail mary, etc.

OKAY BUT YES. There is honestly so, so much there. I desperately need a major deep dive into At2D that covers ALL of it. Especially, what it says about the characters, their relationships, and more. I will say though, I remember as a kid being kind of surprised that At2D was so Perry centric. It definitely made me love this movie even more (I'm a sucker for Perry angst >:3c)

But man, there's so much to say about Platyborg--- like, he technically got the better end of the deal compared to our Perry. In Tales From the Resistance, it's pretty clear that 2nd D Phineas and Ferb are aware of his secret agent past, and he can more or less be himself around the boys in a way that our Perry can't :'))) He is allowed to keep his family, has the option to return to his career, or even retire and just stay with his boys (as a weird platypus cyborg uncle).

The lava scene is so AAAAAA. The pure terror and fear and love Perry has in this moment. He's so scared for Phin, Ferb, and Candace (and to a different extent, Doof) as he desperately tries to hold onto the cage bars. (He's so small and tiny, and the weight of all those people is definitely hurting him, but fuck if he isn't going to hold on until his dying breath if he has to.) Those are his kids, they are the ones keeping him going, and damn. He never ever meant to put them in any kind of danger, but he did because he chose to be selfish and not expose his identity to stop them from helping Doof (one of the few times he's ever chosen to be selfish), and he couldn't save them from being in this situation. Hanging over a massive pit of lava where he's trying so hard to keep them all alive, and now he also has to trust those kids to save them all. He does trust them, he always has--- but it doesn't shake the knowledge that if something goes wrong the consequence is those kids burning to a crisp in molten hot lava. The amount of strength it took for Perry to finally let go KILLS me.

Frankly, with the amount of times that the OWCA has screwed Perry over, they should count themselves incredibly lucky that Perry hasn't snapped and gone rogue on them 😭 Like, I don't think they turned on Perry on a dime for nothing! I think they're painfully aware that if Perry did go rogue they would be absolutely COOKED. Monogram literally sent two agents to arrest Perry, and it took nothing for Perry to beat them and escape. Heck, in At2D we see other OWCA agents try to take down the evil Norm bots and fail. Perry shows up and nearly beats most of the Norm bots before he's pinned down. He is a lethal force!!! Perry is both their top agent, and arguably their biggest threat. If he ever realized his worth and how much more his family means to him than his loyalty to the agency then it would be over for OWCA.

There is just so much potential to explore here, so I HOPE the revival takes the opportunity to do so!!! Heck, a tiny part of me hopes that maybe somehow Perry is able to be himself around his family more by the end of the revival. If Platyborg can get a happy ending where both his worlds can come together, why can't our Perry 🥺 (I know, wishful thinking but an anon can dream 😆)

The amount of strength it took to let go..... Oh god. Imagine being the last saving grace of all your most loved ones hanging over certain death.... Which would be more painful? Holding on or letting go? Im not normal about it. *Screams into a pillow*

Also the idea of Carl being told that Perry wants a hail mary key being made of his most prized possession, the locket of his kids .... Like they make this small child go through so much. Cus now Carl has to sit there and deal with the thought of their best agent has a) lost enough faith in both himself and the organisation to overcome an something difficult in the coming days or b) something is coming and it is going to be horrible and harder than even their agent can ever be prepared for. And AT2D hasnt happened yet. After everything i cant believe Carl still wants to become Commander for OWCA but like. Im glad he is??? Theres literally nobody better for OWCA's future than Carl.

And OH MY GOD i literally went on and on as to why Perry possibly still wants to work for OWCA that has to do with the delicate balance he has in retaining his loved ones (the Flynn Fletchers AND the Doofenshmirtzes) and the fact that there are VERY VERY FEW people who has crossed that line and lived to tell the tale (as in knows about both his lives) is just. Clutching my head fist on my heart. Pinky and Stacy are literally his lifeline and i NEED more fics about their trio relationship cus they are arguably the only people in the whole WORLD Perry can be ENTIRELY truthful too. Hnnnngh. But also im convinced Perry like. Genuinely LIKES his job. He doesnt need to like OWCA to know that he likes having this defined and meaningful purpose, doing something that hes been born to do and is incredibly good at. Like i think being an agent is the one thing Perry chooses to be selfish about and I dont wanna take that away from him. That being said Perry's refusal to let that part of his life go might be the only thing standing between having the answer to his two worlds finally colliding, but what do I know? Im just some person.

He DOES deserve to have everything. He deaerved like.... Truth and peace. And I Know Platyborg has gone through hell and high water to get where he is now but.... Fuck. The fact that its possible.....

[deke-rivers-1957]

ECU Film Ranking Part 2

This is the 2nd part of a 3 part series where after 10 or so movies, I’ll rank them in reverse order with 10 being the worst and 1 being the best. My ranks are based on how much I liked the movie, how much I liked Elvis’ character, and how well it was executed. Each entry will have an explanation so I hope my opinions make sense. If you have any disagreements feel free to share them. Enjoy!

This is going to shock everyone since I just posted a scathing review on Harum Scarum. However, after looking back at the last 10 movies, Change of Habit having a wishy washy political standing leaves a bad taste in my mouth. How am I supposed to enjoy this movie when you have rage reduction therapy being used on an 8 year girl, very harmful portrayals of minorities and the gratuitous usage of slurs? The gritty nature of this movie doesn't work when you have the rage reduction scene be immediately followed by the characters having a jolly good time at the park. It doesn't allow you to emotionally recover from the horrifying sight that was at the time a "groundbreaking treatment". It also doesn't help that Dr. John Carpenter was such a boring character to the point where Sister Michelle overshadowed him. Where would he be if he never met the Sisters? Absolutely fine. Sure he would still be in want of help, but it isn't as if his clinic was in danger of closing. Elvis might have top billing but this is not an Elvis movie which makes it even more sad that this was his final acting role. Instead of being the proverbial last hurrah, this was the final nail in the coffin for his Hollywood career.

This is unmistakably an Elvis movie. The problem is that it's just bad. You immediately question the movie's logic from minute one of actual movie time and it doesn't get better from there. It at the very least has the benefit of taking place in a fictional country. Despite being heavily inspired by the Middle East and actual Islamic beliefs, Lunarkand is not a real place. So when I criticize the cultural representation, it's because I pick up on the similarities with what's true in the real world. That still doesn't save the world building from being super confusing. Especially when you consider the in universe possibility that Johnny will one day be King of Lunarkand. The fact that something that significant isn't even acknowledged in the movie is baffling. It's also bizarre how Johnny was portrayed as this overpowered action hero yet by the end of the movie Johnny doesn't even beat Sinan or Prince Dragna. While it was his idea to protect the King while they stormed the palace, Sinan was taken out in the most nonsense way possible, and Prince Dragna was defeated offscreen by the King in a fight scene we only saw the beginning of. This makes Johnny's ending unsatisfying as he got such a huge "prize" when he didn't really do that much. The world that was created for this story feels broken and I have no idea how you could fix it. Especially when you consider that all of what happens in this movie takes place over Johnny's week long vacation. Anything longer would create even more plot holes on how he could be gone without anyone including the United States government immediately try contacting the King.

Story wise this movie has a clear direction. Do I agree with all decisions that were made? No but I can at least understand why they had to keep things simple. It was an Elvis movie in the early 1960s, so emphasizing Mike's PTSD more than they did wouldn't match the otherwise light hearted tone. That being said, the romance is very boring to watch. How does Margarita being an ousted Duchess impact anything? It doesn't. Her and the former Duke are working at a luxurious resort in Acapulco. Sure it isn't glamorous nobility life, but it's better than what a lot of people in the Mexican working class had. Therefore, I just have no reason to care about the Duke wanting his daughter to get an American VISA. If Mike had never come to Acapulco, they would've continued to live a comfortable life without any foreseeable threat of poverty. It only comes off as forced so Mike and Margarita end up together when they don't have that much chemistry. Mike has more chemistry with Raoul who is a 10 year old boy that acts as his manager. There are so many good ideas in this movie that should work on paper that were simply never fleshed out. I would've loved to see Mike meet up with his parents in Acapulco. That would've been a nice call back to the telegram he received and would give Moreno finding out the truth more weight. Unfortunately that simply didn't happen.

This movie's plot was a mess. How do you balance Mike and Danny trying to find a job to buy their plane, Sue-Lin wanting to see the sites at the fair and needing to be cared for, Mike wanting to date Nurse Warren, and Mr. Ling going missing? The answer is that you can't without one of those plots suffering. In this case, the romance is what suffered. I have nothing to say about Mike and Nurse Warren because I got nothing from the movie to suggest that womanizing Mike would realistically fall for her. Mike being rejected isn't this magically bizarre concept so Nurse Warren doing so doesn't make her that special. I don't think it's worse than the other three movies though since there was a very specific reason behind the movie being rushed. The 1962 World's Fair in Seattle was only open for 6 months. Production wise, it was doomed from the start and the writing unfortunately suffered because of it. But for what they were attempting to do, I appreciate the effort as Sue-Lin is an amazing showcase of young talent. She isn't an obnoxious brat, or a kid that talks in an over the top cutesy way. The scene where Mr. Ling had to leave for an important job especially showcases this. She doesn't throw a massive temper tantrum that he couldn't take her, but she still cries at how something out of anyone's control would've ruined something she was looking forward to. That takes a good amount of maturity to recognize Mr. Ling had no control over this and that if he didn't work hard, she wouldn't have been able to go at all. Just incredible character writing when dealing with a child character.

This movie had so much promise but man it fell off a cliff once Ms. Prentice and the girls arrive. I found myself feeling more uncomfortable with the Ellie situation than Sarah Lee being outright racist towards Hawaiian people. Ellie's bad mood didn't belong in this lighthearted story and I have no idea why it was added. Sarah Lee's racism/classism at least has a point because it's the main source of conflict. The movie would've been just fine if it was about Chad trying to reconcile his wants with his parents wants since that's drama inducing as it is. Maile thinking Chad was cheating on her with Ms. Prentice wasn't entertaining at all and makes the Ellie situation worse as she actually was trying to flirt with Chad. There's also the very obvious issue that we had 3 songs in the span of 10 minutes that add nothing to the movie yet they cut Chad's confrontation song towards Ellie. If her situation was addressed earlier in the movie, I wouldn't have had a problem with it. That time cut from the horrible "running gag" of her failing to seduce Chad could've been spent on a scene where Chad finally puts his foot down with his mother about Maile. I hate that the main conflict of the movie ends with a joke about Sarah Lee fainting over the news that her son is marrying a half Hawaiian girl. It's a lot more satisfying for Chad's happy ending to come from him actually stepping up and telling his mother that the things she says isn't acceptable and that he no longer feels comfortable being around her. I understand it's a real conversation people have with their parents, but I value character driven stories as opposed to something that major occurring only because the script says so.

Allied Artists didn't know how to make an Elvis vehicle and it showed with fully recycled music of varying quality. The romance was bad since Pam comes off as being so judgmental when Lonnie's relationship with their guests isn't her business. I never understood how they went from "strictly business" to getting married since Lonnie seemed very annoyed with Pam. Her playing hard to get attitude I guess was what they were going with, but it didn't work for me. I also wish that the deputy sheriff being the perpetrator wasn't revealed until later because then it would make Lonnie beating him all the more satisfying since we would be just as surprised as the characters would. That being said, this is a guilty pleasure as I very much enjoyed the humor. Lonnie being a straight man who essentially stays the same actually works because you have him bounce off of Stanley who's very neurotic and high strung. You have that reasonable amount of skepticism that makes it all the more funny when he realizes Stanley isn't seeing things. For a very low budget movie, we surprisingly get a lot of different sets which probably cost a pretty penny to set up including the historical townhouse. There's a whole town that had to be made, the ranch itself had to be made and it's incredible how they made such a big setting when most of the budget went to Elvis' salary. It doesn't blow you away by any means but there's a quaint charm to it.

This is how you make a static Elvis character not boring. We don't know the full extent of Jess' criminal nature, but having it be stated that he broke off with Vince indicates his character arc was off screen. Since his reputation is already established he has to prove that he's changed which makes for some natural drama. I have criticized the townsfolk's unbelievably irrational behavior in my review but looking back, I was a bit too harsh. Evacuating the town wouldn't have been as easy as I made it seem either since there's nothing to suggest the nearest town is within walking distance. Given the fragile nature of Sheriff Ramsey's condition and their lack of loyalty to Jess, I better understand the town's reluctancy. Does that excuse the choice to let Vince roam freely when everyone knows he's a villain too, absolutely not. The plot holes involving their lack of pushback still stand since they spent more time putting the pressure on Jess to do something as opposed to using the guns Jess gave them. However, Jess having this rare display of helplessness and guilt over Billy Roy's death stuck with me. The look in his eyes as he sees that cannon rolling down the rocky terrain knowing he can't stop it goes against every criticism that Elvis was a flat actor here. Jess is supposed to be the "boys don't cry" type so his display of emotion sticks out in a humanizing way. Him showing mercy by refusing to kill Vince proves that he's a good person as he chose to let justice be served in a court of law instead of the vigilantism Vince upheld. It has that right amount of subtlety that proves Jess was honest in his heel/face turn. A different kind of man indeed.

This movie was pretty good in that it actually gave Elvis connections with other people. He isn't just rolling up to the movie's setting from parts unknown and no known family. Here he's established to have had parents only to unfortunately lose both of them. Despite a horrific tragedy that creates as a 20 something, Ross doesn't get bitter about it and walks around with a chip on his shoulder. Instead, he does his best to find his own family. That too me is very important. While I don't really care for how Robin was handled, she clearly isn't the focus. Laurel is. She has an actual personality where she's a girl-boss without being a Mary Sue. She has flaws, gets called out on said flaws and tries to improve. Ross having beef with Mr. Johnson throughout the movie had some clever writing as he wasn't a typical rival Ross had to beat. Even when Ross thought that Laurel was in danger, his line of thinking isn't rewarded by having Mr. Johnson be an absolute pig. Sure he was flirty towards Laurel, but it never crossed a line that made him completely irredeemable. He was simply a human being that as a business owner would have goals Ross didn't align with. While I do think he could go too far in expressing his distain, Ross doesn't cross the line of being an unlikeable jerk either. His concern of Laurel's wellbeing regardless of his reasoning was still sweet. It showed how despite their disagreement, Ross didn't let that destroy their relationship. The amount of maturity between the two is very refreshing and I do think their eventual marriage makes sense. Even though I can skip some of the songs as they felt unnecessary, the story more than makes up for it.

(My number 1 and 2 are interchangeable. Both movies show great promise for making my ultimate top 10 list).

This is isn't a case of recency bias. I still had criticisms about the unnecessary drama involving the Flaming Star, Rosalyn being very unsupportive of Clint despite being his fiancee, and the downer ending that didn't even give Pacer a moral victory. But that's the thing about this movie. I wouldn't be so upset about those things if I didn't care about Mrs. Burton and Pacer. That holds a lot of weight in my reviews. Pacer isn't a flat character for coming full circle in realizing his loyalty isn't based on race. If anything, we see what he's willing to put up with so he can continue to uphold a moral fiber that he was brought up with. He easily could've continued the path with the Kiowa and used his pain as fuel for the fire that would've come down on the town. But he didn't do that. He instead turned on the Kiowa for not only killing Mr. Burton but also critically injuring Clint. He didn't really need to do that, but he chose to do so because he genuinely thought that they would've killed Clint regardless of what he said. Pacer sacrificed himself just to give Clint even the slightest chance of surviving. How poetic is that when he blamed the doctor for refusing to do the same with Mrs. Burton. It really showcases that morality isn't determined by race but what you do to others even in the face of cruelty. A great display of writing all around despite its flaws. But for all the praise I've given, what could possibly be better than this?

Man oh man this movie is amazing. The plot might be typical for a boxing movie, but there's a reason why Rocky is the success that it is: great character writing. Kid Galahad has great writing, an appropriate amount of tension and a good selection of songs that highlight the camaraderie that exists in this small town. Walter is a great example of how a character can be of a high moral standing without being annoyingly pious or a complete doormat. I don't care that he doesn't have a character arc because his status does change. Seeing him make those friends and fall in love with Rose was done so well. I don't know if it was the writing that allowed for the characters to exist in a slice of life environment or if the actors had that great of relationship with each other, but all of the character interactions worked so well. The amount of subtlety that exists in this movie is a refreshing vibe because it shows that the writers don't believe in spoon feeding the audience every single piece of information. There's that perfect balance between showing and telling here that demonstrates what Elvis working on an actual movie would look like. My only criticism was the last five minutes where Otto wasn't properly dealt with. Sure his lackeys were arrested, but Otto is still out there. Given what I've stated about Sugar Boy being in that system of exploitation, I actually felt scared for him as we have no idea as to what will happen to him since he lost. But something like that is such an easy fix that I still gave it my highest rating yet. Definitely an underrated gem that I highly recommend watching.

AN: For those on my tag list that I didn't get to, I'm sorry. Tumblr wouldn't post anymore names. I promise that in my New Year's post you will be tagged. Thank you all for reading my reviews and providing your own input/opinions on the movies I've watched. Expect my New Year's post to come out on New Year's Eve.

Tagging: @bluesuedesouls, @searchingforgravity, @velvetelvis, @vampireego, @blueinhawaii,

@alienelvisobsession, @eapep, @peaceloveelvis, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @tacozebra051,

@vintagepresley, @atleastpleasetelephone, @ahundredlifetime, @thelonelyheart, @arrolyn1114,

@ssinnerplazahotel, @lilmisspeaches, @an-americcan-trilogy, @xanatenshi, @smokeymountainboy,

@iuv0ana, @lustnhim, @ladelinee, @pebbles403, @jhoneybees,

@somethingaboutelvis, @tupelomiss, @elvis-presleys-stuff, @elvispresley1956, @elvispresley1935,

@hooked-on-elvis, @everythingelvispresley, @elvispresleywife, @lett-them-eatt-cake, @sillybookmarks,

@yourapple56-blog, @iloveelvis2, @mercsandmonsters, @50sexyshadesfashionista, @blighted-star,

@arianatheangel-girl, @littlejoecartwright1842, @cutie46, @elvisvideos, @almightybigbrain,

@whositmcwhatsit, @theelvisprincess, @theelvispres-blog, @freudianslumber, and @cccayliexx.

[o-solemioo]

Hey there!! I saw your introduction and I was wondering if maybe you could write a angsty miles Morales x reader, preferably gender neutral. Sorry lol that's not much to go on but yeah!!

Thanks, I'm looking forward to seeing your writing (if you choose to write this ask of course)

hello anon,

thank you so much for your ask !! i love these movies (and writing angst), so i'm happy to be able to have an excuse to write for them. this might be a bit short but i hope you enjoy it.

remember, you are loved, ๏siris ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

— how to disappear completely

☾ pairing: 1610!miles morales/gn!reader ☾ summary: "don't you trust me?" "i don't know." or miles telling you he's spiderman didn't go exactly as he planned. ☾ warnings: 2nd person (you), angst, hurt no comfort, very minor homophobia metaphor if you squint, swearing, crying and anxiety attacks, implied sh (nothing graphic), miles being sad :( ☾ w๏rd c๏unt: 439

—

Miles hadn't planned to tell you for a while. If we're being honest, Miles hadn't planned to tell you for a long while.

But he knew he needed to be more careful, and lounging around in his suit was, in fact, a stupid idea. It slipped his mind that you two were supposed to be hanging out today.

You laughed it off when you walked in. "Didn't know you were a cosplayer, Miles," you chuckled. It was only when you saw his terrified face that you knew. And boy, did you know instantly. Even Miles knew he couldn't get out if this one with a quick-witted lie. He just stared at you, waiting for your response.

He knew it wasn't going to be great, but he wasn't expecting what you did.

"Are you fucking kidding me!? This whole time I thought you were busy studying, you were out swinging around? When I thought you were being picked on, you were actually willingly fighting these dumb, comic-book supervillains!?" You ranted, you knew it was hurting him but you were hurt too, he was lying to you for so long, you just didn't know what else to do with yourself.

"I believed you! I was worried about you! ...If you would've told me sooner I would've been fine, but it's been damn near a year, Miles." By the time you finished your rant, Miles was crying, and you were too. He didn't want to say anything, he just wanted to curl up into a little ball and hide.

"I did it to protect you," Miles choked out. "I need you to trust me, don't you trust me?" He looked you in the eye for the first time in about ten minutes.

"...I don't know." With that, you were gone. You just needed to think, to clear your head.

Miles didn't know what to do with himself. As much as you were harsh, you were right. He did lie to you; and a lot, in retrospect. He just wanted to protect you, even if he knew you could protect yourself.

He tried to steady his breathing, but his hearing was starting to become fuzzy. He needed a glass of water, but he felt like he couldn't move. He sat there for a long time, silent, trying to ground himself.

Even when he finally felt somewhat like himself again, he moved around on autopilot. Drink water. Set an alarm. Do something you won't be proud of in the morning. Sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

And when you finally do wake up, look in the mirror and make sure you still want to disappear.

—

very short and i didn't proofread this, i hope it doesn't have too many spelling/grammar mistakes >.<

[spookberry]

An infodump is being requested and hoped for, what random topic have you been rotating in your mind lately*?

*can be from seconds/minutes/hours/days ago

Okay well im gonna rant about high school musical some more then, specifically Sharpay

One thing of note about Sharpay Evans that I have in the past seen people get wrong, whether cuz of the setup we're used to with high-fem mean girl antagonists, or just faulty memory equating the 2nd movie's structure to the other two as well- is that Sharpay "runs the school" in some way.

Sharpay Evans has an intense personality and is insanely rich. So people know her. But shes not even really in charge of the drama department(darbus doesnt actually play favorites within the club itself, she just likes the drama kids more than the non-drama kids) Sharpay's the queen of people assuming you know what you're talking about just because you're confident when you say it.

At school shes not really friends with anyone, outside of her brother. Like she sits with other drama kids at lunch but she doesnt talk to them lol. Sharpay is considered a laughing stock by most her peers and THATS the reason she doesnt want Troy/Gabriella involved in the musical. She assumed the "meatheads" as she calls them were going to make a joke out of something she cares a lot about.(thats not to day she isnt the bad guy of the film or something, she definitely is. Just that she isnt in a place of real power over anyone) After callbacks it becomes clear Troy and Gabriella are serious and their peers arent just making fun of the drama club so shes quick to offer support and congratulate Gabriella. Like Sharpays just dramatic and likes to be the star of attention, you cant fault her for that.

Like, shes queen bee of the drama department and a schemer to boot, but when shes at East High she doesnt really have any power the way she does at Lava Springs.

Also side note can you IMAGINE how fucking awkward thatd actually be to have like half your class working at a resort your family owns. Luckily Sharpay has no shame and would boss them around even outside of this scenerio but I briefly put myself in her shoes and I felt like shriveling up and dying. Like her mother makes this comment "these are your school chums not the fuddy duddy lava springs staff" and im like "this makes everything a million times worse, ma'am your daughter already has a bad reputation amongst her classmates and now youre allowing this??" The wildcats even mention feeling weird about having to wait on sharpay to which their boss assures them they wont have to(which is a lie!!)

Fun fact tho, me and my sisters used to rewatch the first and second high school musical films so fucking much that one time we were bored and started just like, quoting the 2nd movie from start to end word for word, songs included. And then afterwards we were like that was weird... do we know the first one too? we did.

The plotline in hsm3 with rocketman and the british girl was so lame tho tbh. Sharpay would never breakdown during a performance like that. Did you see her in 2 with Troy as her partner? It was like performing with a cardboard cut out and she still nailed it.

Side tracking again to actually talk about Gabriella this time. But the way the third movie treats her makes me so annoyed. Like the whole world is against her! Her Main Thing since Day One of this franchise has been that she wants a break from being "the smart girl" and just finally embrace her chance at a normal school life. She's never lived anywhere long enough to finish out a full school year, let alone have friends, and she finally gets that at East High and what does the universe do?? Make her feel bad and like shes throwing away her future for wanting to go to prom, perform in her last musical, and graduate high school with her friends. Which is like conpletely normal and reasonable to want?? I dont blame her for not wanting to go back to East High after all of her friends basically pushed her out and lectured her for wanting to enjoy her time there. Its not like stanford was going anywhere. She still couldve left for college in the fall like all her friends were going to.

I like to imagine Gabriella turns out to be someone who wants a very stable life for her kids. She settles down and makes sure they experience all the small joys of growing up that she just never really had.

Sharpay's ending was kinda sad too tbh. Even if she didn't have any plans for higher education at the end it feels off. (Why was she and Ryan even worried about the Julliard scholarship anyways? Theyre insanely rich)

Also dont even get me started on Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure. Theres some parts to it that i think are absurdly stupid in like the way a movie about sharpay trying to get famous should be absurdly stupid. And then there are other parts that are like :/ who even is this.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Please excuse the incoming rant.

Okay so like I’ve seen a lot of people talking about how in the Knuckles Series; Sonic still calls Maddie by her name and not “Mom” like he calls Tom “Dad”, but like to me it makes sense. For one; Sonic obviously has a closer relationship with Tom, culminating in him calling him “Dad” by the end of the second movie. Going by the fact the house is still under construction during the series, it’s clear not much time has passed since the end of the second movie, so going off of that, there hasn’t been much development time for Sonic to also grow comfortable calling Maddie “Mom”. After all, if it took him the months that occurred between the 1st and 2nd move to get there with Tom, he’d really be speed running it calling Maddie “Mom” by the series.

But think I it might be even deeper than that. Longclaw was Sonic’s first adoptive mother, who he blames himself for her loss. As far as we know, he never had a father figure before, so there’s no previous baggage with the term “Dad” like “Mom” would have. Sonic may still be calling Maddie by her name as a way to protect himself from future harm, from the possibility of potentially losing another mother figure. After all, you can’t lose something if you never acknowledge you have it in the first place, right?

Yes, to everything! This is something I've thought of a lot!

Time to answer with my own rant. 🤣

Yeah, I can definitely understand why Sonic would have more trouble calling Maddie "mom," because of Longclaw (even though he called Longclaw by her name as well, but the books confirmed that he saw her as his mother). It was easier for him to latch onto Tom, and even though it took what, eight ish months of living with the Wachowskis to actually call him "dad," he did eventually. I still think Sonic will start referring to Maddie as his mother eventually, but it totally makes sense why he hasn't yet.

I think it's a similar case with Knuckles, but it's the other way around. Knuckles's mother was never mentioned, but his father was heavily involved in his childhood. Everyone got the implication that he was going to be a mama's boy after the tidbits from the end of movie 2 and the short, "Sonic Drone Home." And I still think that will one day be the case. Since he's a bit older than Sonic, and is more independent, however, I think it'll take Knuckles a long while to be able to think of anyone as his parents. I still think it'll happen at some point, starting with Maddie, but I wouldn't be surprised if it takes a while. Even longer than it took Sonic.

I like how they did that arc in the second movie. It was mostly unspoken, but I liked the sort of parallel from the boat scene's "Stop trying to be my dad," to "I've got a lot more than that, Dad." 🥰 There are many implications that this is something Tom & Maddie have been wanting for a while. It's clear they love all three kids dearly, and Maddie herself referred to Knuckles as one of her kids. Sure, she got (rightfully) ticked at him for basically destroying the living room and the car, but there was zero implication that she was going to give up.

I'm very curious to see more of Tails's and Knuckles's relationships with Tom & Maddie in the third movie. Maybe there will be an arc similar to Sonic and Tom's in the second movie? Of the two, Tails would become more comfortable with calling them by such titles sooner, and I'm hoping to see some of that soon.

I have a lot of hopes for sure. Jeff Fowler has said a lot that he has a ton of plans for the Sonic Cinematic Universe, so we could easily get more spin offs and more content. 🥰 Our little space kids will get there eventually! I'm just so glad they have parents to care for them in this universe. 💙

[olsenmyolsen]

An Album, Apologies, and A Movie Premiere

Part 40 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: 5.7K

masterlist

_

March 20th, 2022

IndieMusicNow "Well, the rumors are true! TikTok musician and record-signed artist Hex (real life name being Y/N Y/L/N) was announced by their record label to be releasing an album later this year. The exact details are still being kept under wraps. But this is one artist we don't want to miss."

Billboard Today "Following posts on all social media platforms today, Republic Records announced that newcomer Y/N Y/L/N, whose stage name was also announced to be Hex, will be joining the lineup of album releases this year. First-timers usually don't get this lucky; someone must've heard something. We just can't wait to see what it was."

PopCrave "Looks like All Eyes On Me artist Hex is going to be releasing an album later this year."

Entertainment Celebrity "Fans of Elizabeth Olsen's rumored partner have been spreading since the musician followed an account with their own stage name in the handle. Most are convinced that it's the artist themselves. And while we agree. We're just going to sit and wait."

"Edit: 3/22/22 @ 2:16 pm In a new tweet posted below; the artist confirmed that it was indeed them!"

"And again @ 2:23 pm."

"And @ 2:28 pm."

BuzzFeedMusic "Everything we know about the TikTok artist turned album maker Hex. Who are they? Where did they come from? And have they done shady things to get there? Plus! You'll never guess who they're dating!"

@lizziesfutureex      @BuzzFeedMusic not only is this shady writing but publicly blasting Lizzie and Y/N as a couple when they've never confirmed that they are together again is actually horrible

@hexthestars13      @lizziesfutureex wait... Hex is rumored to be dating Lizzie Olsen?? THE ELIZABETH OLSEN?? SASAHJKGSK

@lizziesfutureex      @hexthestars13 again only rumored but yes. you're a Hex fan did you not know??

@hexthestars13      @lizziesfutureex im new to the fandom after discovering her TikTok's and watching her performance from LA last year on YouTube. so no. i had no idea!

@lizziesfutureex    @hexthestars13 omg wait that's the show lizzie went to last year?!? The one with Ro***e!? Okay maybe I should open Spotify 👀

@hexthestars13      @lizziesfutureex 😊

@scrunchnoselizzie      @hexthestars13 @lizziesfutureex no but fr they be fuckin'. uhauled and everything.

@MadMaxMoore @yikesitshex fuck 'em ❤️🫶

@romanoffthereal     @yikesitshex never taking another one of their quizzes again 😌

@witcheswhores     @yikesitshex i know buzzfeed of all people just ain't make our Hex sad!??!

May 2nd, 2022

Y/N POV

"I'm still having nightmares..."

I breathe out and shift my body on the brown leather couch. Cliché, I know, but Sofia, my therapist, loves it.

"Have they gotten worse?" Sofia asks me. I briefly look her way before nodding. Guilt and shame I still carry with me. "Would you like to go into more detail?" She questions as I swallow the lump in my throat. "Umm." I start. "Basically, it starts out the same..." I clear my throat and move myself into a much less relaxed position.

"Liz will be gone for the day, and I'll be at home on the phone with my mom waiting for Liz to return.. Sometimes, she'll show up in the kitchen's entryway like before. Or... Other times, she won't show up at all..." I clear my throat and run my hands up and down my knees. "The times that she does show up, it's just like how it happened, except she doesn't hold back. And nightmare Liz says things I know Liz wouldn't... but it feels real. So real."

"Have you told Liz about these nightmares?"

I nod. "I did."

"Did?" Sofia writes something down before looking up at me, waiting for me to continue. I shrug. "I can't bring myself to tell her about the more gut-wrenching and violent nightmares."

Sofia takes a second before replying.

"I could understand that. But do you think there might be another reason?"

I do, and it's stupid. I exhale and feel small at this moment. "I- apart of me-." I close my mouth and start over. "There's this voice in the back of my head. And I don't know whether to listen to it or not."

"What's it telling you?"

"That Liz doesn't trust me anymore."

I feel a flash of embarrassing warmth runs over my body. My body is telling me not to trust the words my brain is making me believe. "What do you think? Do you think Liz has lost trust in you?" I move my eyes away from Sofia and onto my glass of water sitting on the cork coaster four feet from me. It hasn't been there terribly long, just long enough that some condensation has set in on the sides of the glass.

"Y/N?" Sofia calls for me to focus up. I slowly do, bringing my eyes back to her. I shrug. "I could see her losing her trust in me." Sofia sits quietly as I open and close my mouth. "And... I know you tell me that it's not my fault, but it is. What happened to her was my fault because of my lack of actions."

Sofia shakes her head. "I'm not here to tell you what you choose to keep to yourself was bad or awful. I'm here to listen and to help you. But yes, I don't think it was your fault what happened." Sofia leans back into her chair. "So why do you think Liz does?"

"I didn't say Liz did." Sofia looks at me with a really face. "Y/N." She puts her pen down. "We've been seeing each other for half a year now. I like to think that I can read between the words that you're not saying. So let me ask you and be honest with me. Do you think Liz has lost trust in you because of what happened with her who shall-not-be-named because we made an agreement? And if so, could you give me a reason?"

I smile at her agreement and then try to think of a reason. Slowly, wondering if my mind was just being cruel or not.

Liz POV

"Sounds like you guys need to have sex."

I slam the pantry door close and turn to my sister. "Oh my God! Courtney! I am not having this conversation with you!" I shake my head and pull my water bottle close to my lips. Unscrewing the cap as I roll my eyes. "I can't believe you sometimes." I take a sip of my water before closing it. "We're supposed to be having a nice breakfast. You ask about Y/N. One thing leads to another, and you say that!"

Court puts her hands up, straightens her shirt, and laughs as she steps away from her empty plate.

"Besides, you know it's more complicated than that." I grab the plate and turn towards the sink. My mind starting to wander away as the water gets hot.

But it's true. Y/N and I haven't been exactly on the same page for a bit now.

"I know Lizzie. I'm sorry it was a bad joke."

Court walks up next to me and bumps me out of the way so she can wash her dish. "It's okay." I breathe out as I scoot away.

"Is it? Are you?" Court asks as she shuts off the water.

"Some days are better than most. Those days, we feel like we're how we were before. But.. but then there are moments where I remember and feel hurt." I rub the spot on my wrist where the bruise has faded. "And I know it wasn't purposeful, but... I don't know it just-"

"Just would've been easier if she told you from the start."

I nod to my sister.

No one aside from Max, Courtney, and Kathryn Hahn knows what happened. I didn't want to tell my mom and the twins because as much as they love Y/N, I'm afraid they wouldn't be as understanding as I want people to be like Kathryn and Courtney.

And I know Y/N told Max. Max not so subtly sent me a text recently talking about how amazing Y/N is. I think whenever Y/N called Max, the most damaging parts of her mind were telling her things that would never happen.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie." Courtney places the plate on the drying rack and dries her hands. "But like you said, you know it wasn't on purpose. Y/N just didn't want to believe it was someone that was so vile and abusive towards her." I nod with a sheepish look. "I mean.. if I were in Y/N's shoes, I probably would've done the same... maybe. I don't know." Courtney shakes her hand and tosses the drying rag onto the countertop.

"Where is she, by the way?" Courtney asks, pulling my focus away from the talk I need to have with Y/N. "Oh, Uhh.." I tilt my watch towards myself. "She should be on her way home."

Courtney looks at her Apple Watch. "Therapy?" I nod. "She's been having nightmares. She thinks I don't know." I pull my phone out and sigh. "But whenever she shoots awake, it wakes me up..."

"Do you know what they're about?"

"Me. Her. Naomi." I grimace at that final name. "Ah." Court replies. I can tell she wants to ask or say more about the situation but doesn't.

"Is she still ubering?"

I smile and quickly breathe in and out at the conversation moving along before making a kinda motion with my hand. "Sometimes. She took the Prius this morning."

"How does she not have a car yet?" I shrug. "She didn't need one in New York or her for a while, so there was no need. But we both know she needs one now. So she's been looking at some."

"Oh yeah?" Courtney smiles, getting excited. "Like what?! A jeep? A Tesla? Oh, wait! A convertible! Oh my God, Y/N would look so hot in one!" Courtney goes wide-eyed and shuts her mouth closed as I stare at her. "What I meant to say was... is that I hope it's a nice car. One she can look modest in."

I once again roll my eyes. "Uh-huh. Does Ness know about your little crush?" I make a teasing face at my little sister. She rolls her eyes back to me.

"Yes, she does." Courtney smiles before quickly masking it. "It's not a crush, by the way!! I promise! I just love your girlfriends music."

"And her looks," I mumble. "What was that?" Court asks. "Nothing." I smile as I walk the two of us outside to the garden.

"Wow. It gets more impressive every time I come over." Courtney stands there in awe as I pick up my garden gloves to get to work. "Thanks." I smile back.

"Has Y/N done anything in the garden?"

I shake my head. "She can sometimes have the opposite of a green thumb. And she's a complainer." I laugh as Court nods, finding a spot on the outdoor couch. "Must only be an Olsen thing. Ness can't water a plant to save her life." I chuckle and bend down in the dirt. "I tried teaching her a while ago, but it ended up with me banning her." I hear Courtney laugh. "Maybe I'll try again in the Summer. Maybe after the twins' birthday." I add on as I start snipping.

"I like that." Courtney vaguely says. "Like what?" I lift my head to her. "That even though you're in this place with Y/N now. You still see a future with her."

I lower my hands and think. She's right. Of course, I see a future with Y/N. We've already gone through so many hardships and times without one another. Why would I want that again? Why would I even be with her now if I don't see a long future with her? Us. Marriage. Kids. I see it only with her.

"Yeah, yo-you're right." I lift my head up and smile as the lump in my throat goes down.

I love Y/N with all my heart.

I don't want this distance between us to be present anymore. I want her.

I look at my watch again. She should be home soon. "Lizzie..." I look over at my sister as I snip at another plant. "Hmm?" Courtney puts her phone down and looks at me. "Dad's trying to get me to convince you to talk to him again." I sigh and groan. Courtney nods. "I'm not going to do that. I just wanted to let you know that he's been trying."

"He can try all he wants. You. The Twins. Jake. I don't want to talk to him." Courtney nods again. "I know... how many times this week has he tried calling you."

"Twice."

Courtney hums. "Well, even if he's tried repairing the bridges with the rest of us, we're still in your corner, Lizzie." I smile and thank her before I spend the next few minutes in quiet. Thinking about Y/N.

I know she would never do anything to hurt me, and I know how incredibly guilty she still feels for everything that happened. I feel a pang of guilt as well. I sigh, rip off my gloves, and throw them into the dirt. My mind won't let me focus on the greenery today.

Instead, my eyes focus on my left hand. Empty.

I look around the garden and look into the house. This is our home. Ours. I smile at the memories we've already made and think about the future.

I look back to my hand before looking at Courtney. "Hey, Court..." Courtney shoots her head up from her phone. "Yeah?"

"I'm not saying I want to, but how soon do you think is too soon to get eng-"

"Liz? Babe?"

The sound of Y/N's voice shuts me up as I quickly stand up and brush the dirt off my hands and pants. "Hi!" I smile and walk towards my girlfriend as Courtney stands up to steal a hug first.

"Hey, Courtney!" Y/N smiles widely and hugs my sister.

They've been in contact since Thanksgiving, and she is always happy to sit and talk to her like a friend she's known for years. It's been great to say.

Even Mary-Kate and Ash got a little jealous.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asks as I wrap my arms around her and kiss the side of her head. When I pull away, I see a flush on her cheeks. She looks at me and smiles. It reaches her eyes for the first time in... well, anyway, I smile back and give her an I missed you look.

She sees it.

"Oh, you know, just stalking you-" Court says clearly without thinking before nervously laughing and covering her mouth. "Oh my God! That was supposed to be a bad a joke! I didn't mean-" She gets more flustered and has a scared look on her face as Y/N and I just stare at Courtney.

It's obviously a sore subject still, but we know Courtney didn't mean anything but it.

"It's alright," Y/N assures her with a flat smile. "Let's just..." Y/N stops talking as Courtney quickly looks at me with a sorry look. "Courtney was just helping me get some stuff done around the house before tonight!" I interject and brightly smile. "Yes! I can't wait!" Courtney catches on and shows her excitement for the premiere tonight of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness!

"Aren't you excited!" Courtney asks Y/N, who nods her head. "Just nervous, honestly." I rub my hand up and down her back. "About what?" I question as Y/N sheepishly looks at me. This worries me a bit.

I think Court catches onto the slowly shifting vibe and makes the decision to grab some waters for the three of us. "Y/N?" I tilt my forward. "What's up?" Y/N avoids my eyes and holds my hand. Leading me to the shade-covered outdoor couch.

She holds my hand before lifting her beautiful face to me as we sit down. I smile at her and wait patiently. Silently letting her know that I'm here.

I'm here.

Y/N nervously opens and closes her mouth before finally saying: "I love you, Liz."

"I love you too, Y/N," I reply back with the same inflections as her.

"Are we okay?" She asks, and I don't waste a second tightening her hand in mind. "We are," I reply, only to earn a shake of the head. "No, Liz, really... are we?" I swallow the feeling in my throat and nod once again. "We are. We are Y/N."

"And y-you trust me?"

Y/N asks with a shaky breath. Clearly, this is a question that's been plaguing her. "More than anything." I close my mouth and scoot more into my girlfriend's touch. "Y/N... look at me."

Y/N lifts her head to me, and I see how much sadness is being held in her eyes; before I can think of what to say, my mouth starts rambling.

"I love AND trust you more than anything..." I sigh when I think about how the two of us have been walking on eggshells with one another when we've done this song and dance before.

"I'm sorry for giving you distance when you didn't need it. Or for making you feel bad or guilty when that wasn't my intention... I don't blame you." I catch my breath and give a sad smile. "I was just so upset... I'm sorry." Y/N keeps her eyes on me as I softly speak to her before I see them dip down to my neckline. I look down and know that I just so happened to be wearing the necklace she gave me on our second first date.

"Y/N, I trust and love you, and all I want is for us to put her in the rearview. It's you and me, remember."

Y/N nods and gives me a watery smile with her bright eyes. "I remember." She sniffles. "I just never want you to be hurt because of me again, Liz."

Tears threaten to spill.

"I won't because you won't. Okay?" I can see the relief on Y/N's face as a tear falls from her chin. "Oh, baby.." I wrap my arms around her and let my girlfriend collapse into me. Her face falls as she buries it into my neck. Her tears landing on the exposed skin.

"I'm sorry..." She whispers. "There is nothing to be sorry for," I whisper back. "I just love you so much. I'm so happy to have you in my life, Liz." I kiss the side of her head and allow Y/N to let herself fall apart in my arms as I whisper sweet nothings into the top of her head.

When the tears slow, Y/N eventually lifts her head to me as we're settled into the corner of the couch.

"I love you, Elizabeth Chase Olsen." She speaks in a hushed tone as her fingers dance along my knee. "I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N." I smile at her touch and take ahold of her chin, quickly giving her a peck on the lips before asking: "Is there anything else on your mind?" Y/N barely budges as she gives me a little shrug before nodding.

"Your premiere is tonight." I nod along to her words. "Uh huh.."

I watch Y/N close and open her eyes. "Am I coming?" I stop and tilt my head, confused. "Of course, you're coming! I have your outfit picked out for you and everything! We talked about this a month ago." I look into her eyes that, hold a look of loss and confusion. "Oh..." Y/N simply states. "I don't remember us talking about it."

She furrows her eyebrows, trying to remember. I do the same because she should remember, right?

After a moment of silence, I look to the door to the backyard and see Court smiling with a thumbs up before she disappears into the house.

"OH!" Y/N breaks up the moment between us. "I remember you talking about it. It was... it was right before Kathryn's party." She starts explaining as I nod. "That's right!"

"You looked stunning." Y/N winks with her tired, cried, and dried eyes. "As did you." I kiss her head as she continues. "I think that's the moment I knew I would never write a break-up song about you."

I smile and let out a laugh through my nose. "Is that right?" Y/N nods. "Clearly left an impression, but I think while you were talking about my outfit for the premiere, I was thinking about a song for you..." I sit up, shocked that this is the first I've heard about this. "A song... for me!?" Y/N sniffles and laughs, clearly a little shy about it. "Yeah..."

"Hey! What- why- I." I can't even form a sentence as I'm trying to find the right words to use before settling on it. "Can I hear it?" Y/N takes her left hand in my right and kisses it. "Not yet... not right now." The corners of my mouth dip down slightly, but it's Y/N choice. I'm just happy to have her here and to be a part of her process, no matter how big or how small. "Sorry." She says, but I'm quick to shake my head. "I'll listen to it whenever you want me to. Can I ask what it's maybe about?"

Y/N thinks before saying: "It's about being yours. Your one. Our future..." I see Y/N's eyes dart to my left hand before moving to my face. "I know we've barely scratched the surface when we've talked about it, and I'm sorry if this is a little scary, but after the past month and day I've had, I just need you to know, Liz, that I'm with you. For better and for worse."

"It's not scary." I'm quick to tell her. "And believe me, I know this because I'm yours, and I'm with you. For better or for worse. It's you and me."

"You and me."

I smile as Y/N's lips melt into my own. She lifts herself up and crawls onto my lap, facing me. She kisses me again and again before kissing my jawline, smiling. I react by finding my lips on the side of her face. Marking my way up to her ear before Y/N giggles and backs away. "We shouldn't." She says with a look in her eye and a smile that screams WE SHOULD. "Why?" I ask with a smirk.

"I don't want to traumatize Courtney."

Shit. I forgot she was here. Instead of answering, I roll my eyes and kiss Y/N softly as she places her head next to mine.

"Liz?" She whispers into my ear. "Yes?" I whisper back as my hand moves up and down her body.

"We're not engaged now, are we?"

My hand movement stops, obviously catching Y/N's attention. She rapidly leans back into my hand and looks at me in the eyes. "Just to be clear!" Y/N's anxious voice comes through. "I don't think we are! But! Everything we just said to one another would make it seem like we did just propose! Right??"

I swallow the last remaining calmness I probably had as my body starts to grow nervous and anxious. Because Y/N is right. "You don't think we are?" I ask, not knowing why I said that! "Are we??" Y/N goes wide-eyed! "I don't want this to be how I propose to you!"

"You want to propose to me!??" My pitch and tone matches hers. Y/N lifts her hands and covers her face. "I mean, obviously! I'm dating Elizabeth Fucking Olsen. I didn't want to do it today! If that's what just happened!!"

She lifts her hands and runs them through her hair before breathing out. I can't help but look at how adorable and fucking precious Y/N is being in this shared anxiety-inducing moment.

"Okay," I say as Y/N looks at me. "Okay?? Okay, what?!?" I hold my hands and take hers.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes," I confirm. "I would love to marry you and accept your proposal... but it shouldn't be today." Y/N's smile doesn't falter as she takes a breather before nodding. "It shouldn't be." She says back. "Is that okay?" I ask. "More than okay." Y/N laughs as she's coming down from her high.

Her heart probably going as fast as mine.

"You really want to marry me?" She says as her hands find my hips. "Someday. Yes." I hear Y/N whisper, "That's cool." Making me smile and say: "And what if I want to propose?" 

"Then just do it before me, Olsen."

"Hmm, okay, Y/L/N." I lean up to kiss Y/N, but she backs away before my lips reach hers. "I'm taking your last name, just so you know."

"As if you couldn't get any sexier."

After a while of kissing and talking, Y/N falls asleep on top of me as I lay holding her on the couch. I clasp my hands around her body, kiss the top of Y/N's head, and smile as I switch the ring on my right hand onto my left ring finger.

Someday. Not today. But someday...

Later That Day

Republic Records "Grabbing some candles and blankets for a special livestream this Friday!"

@multiversemother @yikesitshex calling it now the album name is gonna be called Midnight!

@scrunchnoselizzie     @multiversemother didn't they say that the album was going to be self-titled?

@hexthestars13     @scrunchnoselizzie     @multiversemother omg what if it's called debut like Taylor Swift!

@lizziefolkmore @hexthestars13     @scrunchnoselizzie     @multiversemother why would it be called Taylor Swift???

Y/N POV

I sit next to my beautiful and elegant girlfriend as we sit in the back of a black Escalade on the way to her world movie premiere here in Los Angeles!

Liz is dressed in a full black set of Alexandre Vauthier blazer and pants with Jimmy Choo platform sandals to match. And I can't get over how much my mouth waters at the sight.

Earlier, she gave me a treat of kisses before her makeup was finished so I would be on my best behavior. If my nerves weren't threatening to spill out all over the backseat, I probably wouldn't be.

Well, anyways, in contrast to her black, I'm wearing a Scarlet Red Michael Kors jumpsuit with heels to match. I thought about wearing sneakers, but I'm fairly certain Liz had Courtney hide them from me.

Speaking of Courtney in the car behind us, she is also wearing red in the form of a dress that makes her smile shine brightly.

Damn the Olsen and their genes.

I smile at Liz as she is locked into the camera on her phone. Looking at herself and the way her hair is. She was sculpted by God and yet worries about a strand of hair from time to time. "Babe, leave it. Sascha did great!" I playfully smack her hand away from her hair, making her quit. Also, so I could wrap my fingers around hers. I guess my grip was a bit too strong because Liz was immediately pulling away to take a proper hold of my face.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" I try to slowly nod yes but fail. "I'm nervous," I tell the truth and watch a sympathetic smile form on her face. "Do you want to tell me what about..?"

I swallow. "It's our first time being somewhere like this. Being a couple. In public together." Liz nods along. "It's not like when we were in Austin for Love & Death, and it's not like here when we go incognito to Target together. This... this is different."

Liz carefully thinks over her next few words to me before speaking. "We don't have to go public if you're not ready. I'm ready whenever you are."

"I know, but that's just the thing. I'm ready now. We've talked about it, Liz, and I am ready. It's just scary."

"It is scary." Liz agrees. "But there's no one I'd rather do it with. Plus..." Liz smiles and takes my hand back to wrap her fingers around mine. "Think of all the people like us... I'm thinking of Geneva right now." I smile at that. "I bet she's watching the live streams," I say with a shake of my head as my phone glows with a new text.

"Whose that?" Liz leans into me to look at a message from Bo in his new publicist role. "Looks like the record company is pushing my new identity everywhere." Liz reads the text over again and then looks at me. "So if we do interviews on the red carpet, you're going to be introduced as Hex?!"

I nod. "I mean, it was going to happen eventually, I guess.." I like the name and the idea of promo starting now, but starting on the premiere of Liz's new movie feels weird to me. "Hmm." Is all she says before turning away.

"Liz?"

"Yeah?" She turns back to me. "Is this okay with you?" I can see it in her eyes that it's not 100% alright. But her being perfectly supportive, I watch her lie and say: "Of course."

"Liz..." I whine, making her remain stoic. Damn, being a fantastic actress. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." "Liz." She goes to argue that she's fine again, but I drop my phone and stare her down. "Ugh." She groans. "I... I just wanted the world to know Y/N first. Not Hex."

"Oh..."

"But it's a part of your and our life now, so it's fine." She turns back to look out the windows, as her words hurt me more than she realized just as we pull up to the premiere. The driver parks as a man in a tux walks towards the door, getting ready to open it.

Without warning, I reach over Liz and lock the door. "Y/N!" She exclaims as I turn her to look at me. Her eyes moving away from the man, trying to open the door but failing. "I will always be Y/N Y/L/N before Hex or before we get married, and I change my last name to Olsen so for tonight and however many moons after you call me Y/N. Not Hex. Just Y/N like I know you want to. Like you always have."

"Y/N I-"

She goes to argue, but I unlock the door and watch the man stumble backwards as the door flings open. Making a few people behind him laugh. I ignore the looks from my girlfriend as I give a wait-one-second look to everyone outside waiting before closing the door again to kiss Liz.

Because to me, she's Liz. Like to her, I'm Y/N.

"You and me." She says with a bright, pearly white smile before bringing her thumb up to wipe her lipstick off my lips. "You and me," I reply as her soft thumb leaves my red lips.

"Stay here," I whisper to her as I exit from my side of the car and come around to her side full of flashing cameras and screaming fans. I take a quick second and do my best to calm my nerves before opening the door to my girlfriend, whose smile blesses itself down onto me. I extend my hand to her to help her get down and out of the car, and when she does, she turns to me and kisses me. In front of the whole world.

Elizabeth Olsen and I just became public.

Liz POV

I'm going to be honest. I didn't plan on kissing Y/N just then, but she just looked so fucking sexy, and I could tell she was so anxious about tonight that I couldn't help myself. She's mine, after all!

Regardless, the amount of photos of us quadrupled when I did it. Meaning if it's not trending, it will. Everyone will see it. Max, Y/N's label (which should help them), Aubrey, My Dad, and a crazy ex who is awaiting a meeting at a courthouse.

Isn't it so weird how doing something considered normal by most will make you trend?

Anyways, I take a hold of Y/N and don't let her go throughout almost all of the photos I'm forced to take for my job. I laugh and help Y/N as she struggles to find her angle in a sea of cameras, but by the time it's time for my solos, she's nailing it.

Her stage name gets called, and she plays it as if she's heard it a million times before.

I watch in awe and amazement at how far she's come.

"Ms. Olsen!" A staff member surprises me as they appear by my side, letting me know that interviews are set to start and that I need to move along. I thank them but let them know that I'd be waiting for my girlfriend, and to say they did a double-take would be an understatement. But with one quirk of the eyebrow, they retreated.

Thank you, Scarlett, for that life hack.

"Hi!" Y/N is all smiles as she greets me. "Hi!" I reply back. "You ready?" I ask, knowing that the same staff member already told Y/N that we'd be doing a majority of the interviews together. "Yes... wait!" I stop and watch Y/N pull out her phone and point her camera towards me! I pose and smile at her antics before stopping when she looks down at her phone.

"Okay, now I'm ready!"

A/N: And before you ask yes! Y/N met the actors for Billy and Tommy and took silly selfies with them :)

Oh, and Xochitl Gomez tried her best to get Y/N to spill any details about the upcoming album.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Still beating

What - dealing with grief as the dust finally starts to settle. Dealing with grief regarding one specific character's death in particular. You know the one.

Genre - heavier, but we get devoted husband/father Daryl out of the mix. And we don't end the chapter on a bummer, never fear. This ain't a French movie, slowpokes

Relationships - wife Reader and husband Daryl as well as your baby. Familial affection with Rick, and that balance between friend and clergy for Father Gabriel.

Perspective - 3rd POV Daryl, and 2nd POV You

Pronouns - she/her

When - time jump! we've briefly hopped to post season 8, pre season 9 (but before The best kind of damn weird). This chapter takes place during the earlier phases of recovery and rebuilding after the war. The previous chapter, Scary as a sleepy kitten, took place during season 2.

TWs - grief, PTSD (including after SA), depression, self-loathing, and some cussing. This chapter is also kinda lengthy, friends, and had to have exposition. (Might should've sliced the chapter in half, but then we'd have another two-parter on our hands :P)

But how long though? - ...20 minutes or so?

Story references and Masterlist link? - under the cut

And is there a pic at the end as a prize for finishing? - yes :D

Have fun and happy reading!

References to other chapters - what we learned in The Interview. There is also grieving/anger as seen in The first Christmas 'without' Part 2 and its conclusion in I don't hate you, a happy reference to Happy 8th of July!, reference to those lovely tugging strings as found in Invisible Tugging Strings, Part 1 and Part 2 (Part 2 I reckon is still glitched and showing as labeled mature, the poor thing's been cleared about 7ish times via help ticket XD ).

There are a lot more details you might recognize, pop on by to the Official Masterlist here, or for those who prefer linear over non-linear, the Chronological Slowpoke Masterlist here

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

Still beating

She was doing real bad. The past few days had been especially bad. Grief has nasty ways of settling in and rearing its ugly head.

He didn’t know too much about what to do to help her, he’d never been good at that stuff. And there was no fixing all that happened, especially not when the last thing that happened was the worst thing that could’ve.

Just like if TJ or Judith died, it was the worst thing. And part of his wife died right alongside Carl.

Hell, she’d been the one to wait after Carl died, then turned, to pull the trigger.

Now, she felt dead, too.

Gabe had to suggest that she check her pulse when it got bad enough.

Just at that moment, as Daryl was worrying and worrying, TJ started to wriggle and hum in an attempt to root at Daryl's bicep, which pulled him out of his own head for a second.

Gently, he began to bounce to try and keep his baby lulled. He knows Y/N wanted to breastfeed only to get her production up (and so TJ’s suckle could get stronger after the surgery), but Y/N was finally asleep.

Beginning with when Denise was killed, Y/N hadn’t been making as much as she first had. Then, the Saviors stopped the RV and surrounded them, and Negan did what he did. Then Daryl himself got taken away, then there was all the fighting.

And then Carl died.

Getting her milk to come back had been proving damned hard.

A handful of not-very-good times, they’d supplemented what milk she did make with watered-down formula and/or watered-down goat's milk.

One very bad time, they’d used sugar water to fill the babies’ bellies until Jesus got back with goat's milk. Just the one time they had to use sugar water, everybody made damn sure of that.

For now, Daryl could crack into what was still left of the goat's milk in the cooler, right? The two women in the Kingdom who had little guys had sent over actual breast milk with Carol a few days ago, but it was used up yesterday. That stuff had been a God-send, he couldn’t thank the ladies enough.

Between the two babies in Alexandria, TJ and Gracie, everyone had to be smart about using what (non-expired) formula was left. And given that the power got cut, keeping the goat's milk fresh was another problem, hence the cooler. The panels and power were back on, but it was spotty and he didn't want to risk the milk spoiling.

There was still a shit ton of clean-up had since the Saviors nabbed Alexandria’s storage, then firebombed the town. To make things worse, those assholes had their own compound destroyed, and Hilltop and the Kingdom got screwed, too. Even the beach women took another beating. Hell, and them junkyard people were literally all fucking gone except their leader chick.

So, Y/N breastfed the two babies as much she was physically able, all while working as the only other doc left standing in all five communities; she was running herself into the ground.

And with Carl gone…

It ain’t fair that she couldn’t make enough — it was Negan’s goddamned fault.

Which leads to what just went on: so Mich had told him, Y/N’d lashed out at Negan and the new doctor kid with the facial hair, what was his name, Sidney?

Daryl hadn’t been at the infirmary when it happened, but, according to Mich, she’d had to pull her out of the room. Once out, Y/N asked her about TJ, Judith, and Gracie to make sure they were safe, then disappeared after Mich had turned around. Straight up and bolted.

Daryl had checked the escape-closet first, but she wasn’t in there or the attic it connected to, wasn't on the roof that lead to.

He’d then checked the burned church. She’d been there, he recognized her boot prints, but she'd moved on. From there, he was able to follow her sooty tracks in the direction of the place he should’ve known to check first.

Sure enough, Y/N'd been at Carl’s grave.

His wife could barely look at him when he approached. He'd simply kissed her on the head and quietly walked her back home. Once home, he'd cleaned and bandaged her hand while she, again, tried to pump enough for the little guys.

Mich had told Daryl she’d get Rick for her, so he’d be here soon.

Daryl wracked his brain, he even prayed to learn what do to try to help carry Y/N through this shit.

At first, Y/N’d been pacing around the room, crying but trying not to, arms wrapped around her picture frame with a photo of Carl in it as if it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

He'd been able to persuade her to lay down, and ended up laying in bed with her and holding her tight, their baby next to them in little bassinet.

Initially, him holding her and pressing kisses to her neck had made her feel worse. More guilty, that is. A handful of days ago, something got into her head that she needed to give him a damn "annulment."

Nah, for real, she’d even said (to Gabe) that the two of them not having ever done the deed yet was "grounds" to give him one. “Grounds to free him,” were her exact words. It was a whole thing, and the couple of failed attempts at trying to do the deed after getting hitched some months back probably made her feel guilty, as if not having sex yet would make him not love her, or?

Father Gabriel had Daryl's back the whole time during the conversation, though, decent dude.

And no, Daryl wasn’t angry or even real hurt that she’d thought she had to ‘free him’ and shit, he knows it was the grief and physical exhaustion that got her to that point. His woman had full-on blacked out and hurt herself that day, which is why he'd brought her to Gabe in the first place.

But the, um, the walls were thinner than Daryl had expected, which is how he overheard from the person that he was gonna love and stay with and stay faithful to until he dropped dead softly confess that she was “selfish” to keep him “stuck” with a “batshit m-mess” like her and “a baby that ain’t his.”

The fact that Y/N kept maintaining how much she loved him and how she didn’t want no annulment helped it hurt less when she’d sounded just about convinced that it was “loyalty to me ’cause we’re close, loyalty to Rick,” and because of “he’s got so much shame. He feels responsible for what the Claimers did,” that made him marry her those months ago. "He loves our ch—my child, and might love me, but it's not fair to him. He deserves better, h-he needs better, the man's been trapped all his life. I-I don't want him trapped, I want him happy!"

Gabe never played into her fears. He been no nonsense about all of it, told Y/N that she needed a damn rest, and asked her to tell him what she thought about it when she woke up.

The good thing was that after a 5 hour period of uninterrupted sleep (during which they used some of the goat's milk for TJ and Gracie), she woke up in a daze at why she’d thought an annulment was something Daryl needed or wanted.

The bad thing was, she was then socked in the gut with more unearned guilt for it, then with worry that she was too far gone, or crazy, all that.

Been a bad, bad few days.

Been a lot of Daryl showing her love that she felt not worth being shown. So that she fell asleep in his arms today was such a damn win!

After getting up to take a leak and finding that Y/N was miraculously still asleep, he thanked whoever was up there, then tried to figure out what else he could do to help her get through today…and right at that moment, TJ started to rouse, so he got his answer: keep their baby comforted. More shut-eye could only do his woman well.

Deftly lifting the little bundle into his arms, he'd kissed the scar above the baby’s upper lip and tiptoed out to the hall, where he was now.

Lightly he bounced, softly he shushed. He held TJ like a football and moved back and forth, back and forth. Babies smell so damn good, and make the cutest noises, goddamn.

After a couple minutes, through the open door, he peeked at his Y/N.

Shit. She was already sitting up and blinking off the sleep.

Whatever it was she did and said today, she felt low as hell about it, that much was clear. Without looking, she grabbed the now-broken picture frame and clutched it to her middle.

"You're supposed to be asleep, slowpoke," he tried to tease.

Her clothes had ashes from where it looked like she’d knelt down then sat down in the burned church. There was some dirt on them, too, from when she’d been at Carl’s grave. Daryl made a note to shake the sheets out later and pick the tissues up off the floor.

That's when the front door opened downstairs.

Was that Ri—good, that was Rick’s voice, he was finally there. There was a second voice, too, was that Father Gabriel’s? It was soft like Gabe's voice was.

Daryl looked downstairs.

Yup, it was Rick with the rev.

He waved them upstairs, but it must’ve been the clunking of the Gabriel’s new cane that got Y/N stumbling out of the room.

“Rev! I would’ve come to you, y-you need to be takin’ it easy.” She hugged the picture frame in one hand, gripped the banister in the other and started to go downstairs, asking Gabe how he felt, urging him to sit down, had his vision worsened, all that stuff.

“Y/N, more rest won’t stop me from losing sight in this eye,” Gabriel responded in his quiet way, remaining on the second step, not going up or down the stairs. He smiled. “You could say I’m the one making a house call to a patient this time."

She held back a sob and bowed her head. Then, she subtly slipped two fingers around the inside of her wrist…

Rick stepped the rest of the way up the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders. “What's going on, weirdo?”

“Ricky, I'm s-sorry."

He leaned closer and took her in for a hug. “Heart still beating?” he murmured.

Her inhale was shaky. “Mmhm. Yours?”

“Beating strong.”

TJ perked up and began to whimper upon hearing her voice. Y/N unzipped her hoodie to—she still had a gun on her?

Okay, that'd been stealth as fuck, it hadn't even been printing. It was the mini one she'd kept on her when they first got here, when Deanna insisted on keeping the weapons locked up. Still, he'd been literally holding her, how in the hell had he not noticed?

Daryl shared a glance with Gabe. Minus her screwdriver, she'd turned in her weapons after what happened the other day.

Y/N handed the small gun to Rick, who looked wary, but accepted it without question. She hesitated before reaching into her boot to hand over her screwdriver, too.

Daryl slid his hand around his wife’s waist to guide her back to the room. Without looking him in the eyes, she cupped his cheek and told him he was a good father. Then, frame still gripped under one arm, she took the baby into the other.

“Let’s try havin’ a snack before I go with Uncle Ricky awhile, okay, chickpea?” she murmured, then unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

Daryl took off his vest to give her some more coverage, then helped her with her top buttons. When he draped the vest around her, she'd turned her head to kiss his hand. He felt his cheeks warm when she did that.

Walking into the room again, she softly told Daryl that he and Rick could sit on the beds. First, she placed the picture frame on one of the mattresses. Next, with their baby latched on and suckling, she went to the end table at the window to sit down on the floor beside it. The way she sat, it was kinda as if she were using it as a shield.

“Rev, please take the chair,” she mumbled to Gabriel with a glance at the only piece of furniture in the room at the time, other than the bassinet, a nightstand, and the end table. Negan had specifically left the rocking chair as a 'gift' for her. The piece of shit...

Anyway, Daryl had got them their two twin mattresses back (hey, squish them together and you get a big-ass bed) the first trip to and from the Savior’s compound after the war ended, once the folk from Alexandria had begun to move back from the Hilltop. Only, no bed frames yet.

“And sweetheart, I’ll-I’ll take the pumps with me for while I’m in there. Wanna make sure you and Aaron have enough for them,” she said to him, voice still raw. Y/N turned to him and gave him a wobbly smile. “Sorry I used up so much of the tissue supply,” she tried making light, but got close to tears again, so stumbled through asking “Can I, um, Rick, m-might can I bring my pillow? Is that okay?”

Go with Rick where, and take the breast pumps and her pillow, why? He made eye contact with Gabriel, who looked just as puzzled. So, he turned to Rick.

Rick lowered his eyebrows as if he didn’t know what she meant, either. He squatted to sit down on the mattress beside Daryl, and looked at his sister. “Y/N, where are we headed?”

Glancing up from the baby to him then to Daryl, she adjusted TJ’s position on her breast while she figured out how to answer, by the looks of it. Another glance at her husband as if she were worried about his reaction...

“Rick, I thought you was here to…escort me?”

?

Daryl had no clear idea what she meant, it was the rev who understood first.

“No,” Father Gabriel told her gently. “Y/N, you aren’t under arrest.”

Under arrest? Daryl fought between the urge to get angry or dead-ass laugh. 'Under arrest??'

It was for real, though. His wife’s tears started flowing again as she turned her attention to Rick and began to stress, “There can’t be no special treatment—”

“—Is this why you handed me your weapons? Why would you be under arrest?” Rick cut her off to question.

She stared as if he’d grown antlers. “I s-struck a patient, and, and—”

“—And I slit his throat open, which is why that 'patient' is in there in the first place,” he cut her off again, firm.

Thankfully, TJ let out a wail the same time she wailed, “Ricky, y-you weren’t his medic!” pausing any further arguing.

Y/N gulped, pressed down on one breast, then the other. “I know there’s not much in ’em, Teddy-bear, but it-it’ll get better. It’ll come back,” she shushed, lifting him up and tucking herself back in. With a few kisses, she shushed, “You’ve gotten so much faster at drinkin', babycakes.”

Daryl got on the floor with her and took TJ back.

She avoided eye-contact again, and her lip wobbled again as she pulled the top of her shirt higher. That told him there’d been not much milk in there. And he could see all over her face that it was switching her on the legs with more false-ass, unearned guilt.

The familiar string in his chest suddenly tugged in her direction—next thing, he was resting his forehead on hers. “Hey. You’re makin’ more every day, angel,” he whispered in her ear. "And you're a damn good ma." Then, he started to help her button back up.

The way her expression softened and her body relaxed toward his felt better than fireworks going off on the Fourth 8th of July.

And as if he were back in that Georgia-in-July heat, Daryl just about melted right there on the floor when he saw his TJ, neck lifted high, making a face-scrunching, gummy smile at him. "Look how strong your neck is getting, ’lil badass, you’re rockin’ it!”

Shit, their kid was the best damn thing.

Y/N leaned against him and reached to lightly fluff their baby’s hair and rub their baby's teeny feet.

Gabriel sat in the rocking chair quietly, hands resting on his cane. He caught eyes with Daryl and nodded his head toward Y/N, glad to see her no longer convinced she needed to ‘free’ her husband.

Absorbed in the photo, Rick exhaled, then spoke up. “Y/N, how about we start from the beginning? What happened at the infirmary?”

She pressed tighter against Daryl as a pained noise left her throat. “Did you talk to Siddiq yet?” sounded very small.

“I want to talk to both of you.”

“And Michonne?”

He nodded. “She told me some.”

The big watch she’d kept from Dale tick-tick-ticked on her wrist. Then came the sound of light metallic clinking. Daryl didn’t have to look to see that she must’ve pulled out her brother’s necklace and was tugging on it.

“What I did ain’t excusable,” came out raspy and thick.

“It is," Rick answered.

“It’s not, especially not what I said to Sid—” a sob choked her response. She used Daryl's leather vest to hide her face before hugging it around herself like a blanket.

“Walk me through what happened first, kiddo, before you hit Negan with this?” Rick subtly gestured to the broken picture frame.

So she had smacked Negan in the face? Hot damn, Daryl was more in love with her already.

Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “They’d been lookin’ at it, the both of 'em.”

“At the picture?”

A tiny nod. “I’d left the room, and when I got back, they was looking at it. Siddiq brought it over to him. Tried to make like Negan was sad, too. Fuck that!”

TJ started rooting on his bicep again, but Daryl was on it. “Sorry, pipsqueak, I don’t got the right parts for that.” He started to massage the baby’s belly, and TJ quieted.

“It’s okay to let ’em cry a little, it-it helps restock these,” his wife tried joking, nodding down at her chest.

“Y/N.” Rick was delicate about coaxing her for more details. “You got back into the room, Siddiq and Negan were looking at the picture.”

“Negan’s filthy hands were on it,” she grit. "Lookin' at Carl and me, you with Shaney." The sounds of the pendant being pulled across the chain filled the room along with TJ’s soft cooing.

“Is that when you hit him with the frame?” Rick asked.

“No. I told him not to look at it again or touch it, and if he did, I’d hurt him.”

“Angel, slow your breathin’,” Daryl interjected at the same time that he figured out why those words sounded familiar: it was similar to how she'd warned the last Claimer fuckhead, the one who’d had Carl pinned down and was gon——Daryl shut down this brain for a sec, it was best not to think about that night.

He turned his head to see Rick, red-eyed, tracing his thumb along the photo of Carl, Y/N, Shane and him. Seems as if Rick had recognized her words, too.

“And when was it that you did hurt him?” Rick pressed on.

Y/N swallowed. “About half a minute later when he tried to act like it wasn’t his fault.”

Rick’s composure staggered and collapsed. His voice was hoarse when he managed to say, “It’s not his fault.”

But Y/N was fast to shut it down. “Don’t for one more second make like it’s yours, Ricky, you get that monkey off your back,” she comforted and somehow scolded both at once. “Negan was doing what Negan does when he, when he told you that. It was manipulation, nothin’ real. How C-Carl—” another choked-down sob, more tears.

Daryl noticed her press her fingertips to the spot under her chin, beside her jaw, checking her pulse to prove it was still beating.

“Negan had nothing to do with how Carl got bit,” Rick whispered. “You know it’s true, kiddo.”

“No—our boy wouldna ended up out there, w-with-with Siddiq, if it hadn’t been for Negan.” Her tone got louder and angry, her stress stutter became more noticeable, the way she tugged the necklace turned rougher. “He and his followers was why we weren’t able to trust no n-newcomers like Sid, which is why Sid was still out there alone, and, and, and why Carl went to him! It, it was because of Negan and his, and his, his-his cult!”

TJ seemed freaked out by the louder voice, the baby’s dark, blue-black eyes grown big.

Daryl spoke Y/N’s name to try and bring her back to herself, but she seemed to have very suddenly calmed.

She was blinking at her hand.

Daryl looked, and then saw the two halves of her brother Shane’s chain, broken.

“How many times did Carol warn me that this would happen when I tugged it,” she muttered to herself. "Good thing I didn't decide to tug on the rosary, huh?"

Inhaling, she leaned her head against the wall behind her, staring into space, fingers to her wrist to check her pulse again.

From beside her, he covered her hand in his. Then, pressing his lips to her fist, Daryl took the necklace from it. He could fix it.

“I lost my temper again, I’m sorry,” she spoke to all in the room, her hand cupping Daryl's cheek a moment. Then, more quietly, she looked at Rick. “How many days’ll I be in there?”

Which sent Daryl straight back to disbelief he was hearing those words, what absolute bullshit. “Y/N, you ain’t going nowhere.”

“You’re not going to a cell, Y/N,” Rick echoed.

“No special treatment,” she softly repeated. “If I were anybody else—”

Rick interrupted her “—It’s not about who you are.”

Father Gabriel had gotten up and was making his way to Y/N by then.

Y/N shook her head at the conversation, tired. “If I were anybody else or had any other role, and if he were anybody else,” she caught her breath, “there’d be reper-re-rep—” a few more tries, and she had to choose a different word, “consequences. Assault and battery on an un-unarmed person—a patient—from their medical provider, that’s serious.” Her hand was back to covering her face. She sat pressed against the wall, knees at her chest.

“You and Siddiq are the only doctors left. We couldn’t just put you in a cell even if you had earned it.”

“I ain't a doctor, at best, I’m a medic,” she grunted. “And I did earn it, just ask him and Michonne. As for my,” she made a shaky inhale, “my duties, I can be escorted out.”

“And TJ? Gracie?” Daryl put out there, hoping to guilt her out of insisting she get jail time, like, what the fuck. What kind of conversation was this?

Screw this, he couldn't even sit. He stood, shaking his head and pacing around the room, still holding TJ.

The expression on Y/N's face should’ve been enough to calm him down, along the defeated, quiet way she reasoned, “I’ll pump and y’all will visit. It’s—no, sweetheart—it’s only for a few days,” when he started to dead-ass leave. As if her being in there ‘only for a few days’ would help this bullshit make sense.

But that’s when he ended up snapping, “This is goddamn bullshit! You bopped a sick fuck on the nose with a picture frame, who in the hell will care? Rick, why you even entertainin' this shit?” and he regretted doing so as soon as he barked it out.

The old, invisible knee rammed him in the nards harder when Rick cautioned, "Brother," and Gabe finally opened his mouth, and louder than Daryl had ever heard him speak. “She cares, Daryl. So do I.”

And to make it all worse, their baby had given a start in fear when he’d shouted, and now the poor kid was screaming—and TJ doesn’t scream, shit, shit, he blew up while holding his child?

“M’sorry! M’sorry," he hushed to his baby, "I love you so much, kid, I’m so sorry I scared ya. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” With a kiss on TJ’s wild head of hair, he murmured, “Pipsqueak, your old man is an idiot.”

Y/N rushed over when TJ screamed, but she didn’t take the baby away from Daryl. Instead, she caressed her husband’s forearm and triceps and spoke to their child. “Your daddy’s got you safe,” she soothed.

He knew she was trying to look him in the eyes, but he couldn’t return it. He’d just scared an infant because he couldn’t check his temper. Their infant.

His wife’s quiet assurance cut through the rushing in his head. “Daryl? TJ ain’t hurt, sugar, and you’re not a bad father. Do some skin to skin, okay?” She pecked a kiss on his cheek. “And that's a dollar for cussing, pay up later.”

She then sat back down on the floor next to where the rev had made his new seat. Daryl took the now-empty rocking chair, unbuttoned his and TJ’s shirts, then nestled the kid on his chest.

Y/N then told the room the rest of what happened, how after Negan croaked out with what voice he had left, saying it 'wasn’t his fault Carl was dead', that she’d turned around and whacked him across the face with the frame.

Siddiq had reacted by grabbing her shoulders from behind to pull her away from Negan — so she had shoved back and kneed him in the dick plus rammed her head against his, dropping the frame in the process. The frame broke as a result—and when it broke, she'd lost her cool, said some shit, and threw some shit. Mich heard the hubbub and intervened, then Y/N hid herself away cause she 'knew' she was 'gone crazy.'

As far as Daryl was concerned, the new doc was lucky all he got was a shove, a knee to jewels, a clunk on the head, and some words and maybe a clipboard thrown at him, because Y/N could fight damned well. She'd had it drilled into her how and when to do it. Freely taught others moves, too.

When she’d showed Carol some techniques, way back, it was one of the things that sent him falling for her.

And…Y/N might’ve not said it out loud, but when she described how Siddiq grabbed her from behind to pull her away, everyone in that room got why it caused her to react strong.

What she described herself as doing would’ve been instinct.

Siddiq wouldn’t know why. Negan might, the fucker had watched the tape of her Deanna interview.

“See?” Y/N blew her nose again, sniffed, and stared at the floorboards. “It’s not right to Sid or the community to, to have what I did go unchecked. And what I said to Siddiq was so cruel. What’s worse is I meant it. Fuck, I still do.”

What she'd said was basically that she wished he’d gotten bit instead of Carl, and that it was just as much Siddiq's fault that the boy was dead as it was Negan’s. That 'he should be dead.'

She grimaced, then caressed the watch on her wrist. Must’ve been thinking of Dale. “Ain’t fair to…Negan, neither. If there’s anything Carl wanted us to understand, it’s that,” she whispered.

Rick lifted the frame to kiss his son’s picture, wiped a couple tears away. “When I talked with Sid, he was…alarmed. Worried. He thought it was off-character.”

Y/N went rigid where she sat. “Siddiq wasn’t there two years ago.”

Daryl lifted the baby higher on his chest and snuggled closer.

Rick shook his head. “You wishing someone dead, or, dead instead of another, is very off-character, it’s not you. No—don’t shake your head, Y/N.” Her brother maintained, “Even back then, after what happened, you didn’t wish me dead. You wished that Shane was still alive, not that I was dead instead. Even if you did say those things, it wouldn't have been the truth, just the hurt speaking.”

“I attacked you and told you I would kill you. And I-I meant it at the time, you know that.”

“And for a couple days, you left, because you didn’t actually want that. You knew it was wrong.”

“Which is why I need to get put away for a couple days. I decided to hurt a patient and his doctor, my own fr—” She wasn’t able to say what was probably the word ‘friend.’ Y/N bit her lip, and continued, “Then hurled words at him what nobody should get hurled at them.” She swallowed a cuss and grabbed another tissue.

“You’re exhausted, Siddiq knows that.” Rick pointed out. “We’re not ourselves when we’re—”

Y/N wasn’t having it. Probably too exhausted, to tell the truth.

“We’re all exhausted. C’mon, man, you just lost your son!” A sob left her and she tried to breathe through her nose. Checked her pulse again.

“You were also reacting to how he yanked you back, kiddo. That's not nothing.”

Daryl gave Rick a warning glance.

Rick saw, nodded, and held up a hand, which made Y/N turn to see what Daryl was doing. But Daryl simply kissed TJ on the head, not saying nothing.

She wasn’t fooled. When Y/N looked back at Rick after giving her husband a look of it’s okay, Daryl gave Rick another warning glare, then a nod.

“You didn’t react like that without reason, Y/N. There’s no shame to admit it was a trigger.”

She grumbled at the word. “Trauma ain’t an excuse to traumatize others.” After exhaling, she ran her hands over her face and took a moment. Hardly louder than a whisper, she challenged, “Ricky, not all my problems stem from the rapes. I’ve always been too hot-headed.”

At that moment, Daryl wanted to scoop her and TJ up and drive them away from everything, keep the two of them safe and unbothered for a month or two or four.

“Getting grabbed like that m-might, y’know, might could’ve reminded me of it—when they—" She ran a hand through her hair. "Okay, it did get me going. But, I,” she paused. “It wasn’t that I saw red or blacked out, I chose to keep goin’ once I’d started. I threw stuff because I was raging, I didn't want to stop because I thought he deserved it.”

Y/N fiddled with Dale’s watch, and turned to Father Gabriel beside her and almost smiled at him, close to the way she used to smile at Glenn, as if he were in on a joke. “Here I’d hoped I was re-domesticated by now.”

“Let us give thanks that you’re still housebroken,” he responded, taking Daryl by surprise. "You're...still housebroken, are you not?"

The way Y/N then cracked up and grinned woke up the butterflies in his stomach.

“Y/N, you’ve come miles since I first met you,” Gabriel told her softly, smiling back.

“All the way from Georgia,” she joked back, then grew more serious. “You’ve grown a whole lot, too.” She wiped her eyes, and Gabe closed his.

“And Y/N,” he shook his head. “You aren’t losing your humanity. I know you’re frightened of that, after what you told me happened to your other brother.”

It hadn’t even registered in Daryl’s mind that Shane’s memory would be scaring her. She loved her brother like hell, but she was always terrified of going down the same path he did.

He looked to Rick to see what his reaction was. His reaction was tear-rimmed eyes and a nod of his head toward TJ, silently asking if he could hold the baby awhile. Daryl nodded, Rick stood, and returned Y/N the frame as he walked by to pick up the little one.

Hands empty, Daryl took out his army knife and the broken chain from his pocket so he could fix his woman’s necklace. Wasn’t gonna be hard.

He heard Y/N whisper, “Hey, punk," to Carl in the photo. "Miss you. Miss you, too, loser,” she said to her brother's photo. He let his eyes travel to where she sat under the window, and watched her kiss the picture and well up. It was the old one of her and preschool-age Carl photo-bombing Rick and Shane, after one of them got some kind of cop award.

Clutching the frame once more to her belly, she and Father Gabriel then started to talk in low voices with one another.

“The red haze in your right sclera is so close to bein' clear. Did you talk to Rosie today? She’s been seeming less depressed.”

“I thought this was me visiting my patient, not the other way around,” Gabe gently hinted. “Y/N, please talk to me.”

Daryl heard her sniffle. “Rev, but I don’t want to have meant those words. I’ve been workin’ on it. It-it might be his fault, but I know he’s innocent, he’s humane—Sid even counts walkers like I do, man, yet still, I—” her breathing shuddered. “After whatever this mess is kicked in, every time I see him now, I hate him. Why do I hate a decent person?”

“Grief,” he offered simply. He gave her another shrug and small smile. “Keep doing what you have been. It will get easier every day, the same way your, um,” he was careful about his wording regarding her tits, “that you have more for the little ones every day.”

She huffed but didn’t raise her voice again, she stayed quiet as could be. “It don’t feel like none of that’s happening.”

“Our perception of things doesn’t always equal the truth, Y/N.” Gabe seemed to take a moment. Maybe he was praying.

Y/N’s fingers found her pulse again.

“We are all healing,” Gabriel next said, and smiled again. “Your heart is still beating, is it not?”

Y/N stared for a few moments, caught in the act. Eyes meeting Daryl’s for a moment, she removed her fingers from her neck, and inclined her head at the reverend. “What about yours?” she asked softly.

“Still beating. And that’s the proof,” he assured her just as softly. “Y/N, as for the way you understand your actions and your emotions toward him as not being right, I would like you to take it as a comforting sign. And, you just handed over a weapon you plainly wanted to keep concealed, you didn’t use said weapon to hurt Negan, either,” he pointed out, for which Daryl was grateful. “Perhaps, if you begin to make excuses, begin to feel no sense of having done wrong when you have, I will worry.”

Weirdly enough, he next grinned up at the ceiling. “But I am not, because you are simply broken and in need of healing. You’ll get there, as will I,” he held his hand out to the room. “As will your brother, your husband. All of us.” He sighed. “So long as our hearts are still beating.”

Daryl looked back at his wife in time to see her bit her wobbling lip and nod. Her gaze turned to Rick with the baby. He was kissing TJ’s scrawny little feet.

Her face softened seeing them, and as Daryl’s stomach fluttered again, she turned to look at him. His stomach full-on did a happy flip (and, yeah, he lost his grip on the necklace’s broken link and dropped it).

Y/N said to Rick, “Well, we still need to show ’em that Alexandria—that you—are accountable and fair. How many nights will do, you think?”

Rick shook his head. “Zero. But, because you have a point and won't take 'zero' as an answer,” he quickly added, “how about one?”

“For a piggy, you’re actin’ awful chicken.”

He was unmoved by the cop joke. “Bawk, bawk.”

And Y/N laughed, for what it was worth. And it was worth everything, hot damn was that laugh the best sound.

Daryl figured he might as well check, “What about bail, that still a thing?”

“Not with you owing a whole dollar. That’ll take weeks to pay off,” she said, back to doing her best to lighten up things. He loved her so fucking much, goddamn.

“Supervision when outside the cell,” she stated to Rick.

He shook his head again. “I have a better sentence in mind. When I saw you wearing Lori’s belt earlier today, it reminded me of it. See, and you left this at the infirmary.” He reached into his jacket pocket.

Recognition swept across her face when he held it out. “Do you think he’ll feel safe?”

“The headphone cord is too thin to choke him with, it’d snap.”

“Ricky, that joke was very dark,” she lightly chided.

He squinted, kissing TJ’s feet one more time first. “I hereby sentence you to one night—”

“—Three.”

“One in lock-up,” he spoke over her, then was fast to tack on, “with Daryl and this one as guards.” He motioned to the baby.

"Women shouldn't have male guards," she dryly droned.

"Overruled. You'll also get supervised outings for your duties tomorrow and the day after, including the trip to the Hilltop for Maggie’s prenatal visit. And,” he held up the music player, “you’ll need to listen to music with Siddiq on this. We know it works.” He cocked his head. “Let’s start with 20 minutes per day, like you and I had.”

Some tears slipped out even though she was smiling. She mouthed I love you to him, then asked out loud, “How many days?”

Rick squinted. “Fourteen.”

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

You

“You pick the songs. Whatever you like,” you told him, staring at the photo and rubbing the ‘22’ pendant over your lips. Daryl fixed the chain for you shortly after you’d broken it. You really love him.

Sid accepted the mp3 player out of your hand.

You and he each had one earbud in, one apple beside you, and Michonne sat nearby with Judith. Supervision was your stipulation, yet being proactive about ensuring it had done nothing for how humiliating it was.

Still, you took an objective look and figured Siddiq should know that his safety mattered, that your people were fair and held themselves to standards.

Just looking around the place, it looked as if standards were a given here. That Alexandria’s power grid and some panels were already repaired within two weeks of Negan’s razing was almost unbelievable.

Sucks for the Saviors that cult that the Alexandria community had been built to withstand up to magnitude 4.1 earthquakes and be fairly fire-safe as part of its self-sustaining (and for-politicians) model, so in the least, a good number of the homes were still standing.

Carl's gazebo was another story, as were other similar structures, like the church, but the ash had been washed off by the rain, and the communities' walls were back up.

Next to you, Siddiq asked you how to work the mp3, citing, “Carl had been the one to…”

Had been the one to work it when he borrowed it to visit you out there, in order to show you some kindness. Before he got himself bit because of you.

The words festered inside of you. Whatever. Let them fester, you felt dead anyway.

As you went to point to show him, the picture hung from your outstretched, bandaged hand. The pic you'd chosen this time was another older one from the before-times, not one of the newer polaroids. You'd been the one to take it, actually, using a disposable camera about five and a half, maybe six years ago.

It was blurry, Lori and Carl had been being silly and stopped posing, Rick was mid-comment. You loved this one.

It felt so unreal now, felt fake.

Felt dead.

You checked your pulse. Still beating.

“The, um, just use-use those two buttons there for up and down to search,” you mumbled, tucking the photograph into your shirt pocket. “That one is for back, that one for options. Press down on the middle to click.”

He went huh. “Here’s the Indian music playlist,” he chuckled. Appears he’d found the Desi Party! playlist. Carl told you he’d played it for him.

Before he’d gotten fucking bitten.

How could your heart rage and ache so much if you were dead?

“It’s got all sorts on it,” you replied blankly to Siddiq. Remembering your oldest sister who’d made all the playlists before handing her mp3 down to you, it felt like she was made up. All your siblings except Shane felt made up. Your own mother, the foster siblings over the years, they felt made up, too.

Felt like everyone before was made up.

Fake.

Dead.

“My mother was a big filmi fan,” Siddiq shared.

But you simply repeated, “Pick whatever you like, you’re in charge of the songs.”

There was no emotion in your voice. You didn’t want to chat with him, didn’t want to nerd out about Bollywood music, and also didn’t want to face him after saying such awful things to him early today.

Hating him felt right. It felt "deserved," which is a word you'd learned to not use, thanks to Dale.

Granted, hating Siddiq felt wrong, too, which invited shame to take a seat on your lap.

So, you followed the rev’s advice and took comfort in the shame because it meant your conscience was still ordered in a good direction. It meant you weren’t fully dead yet.

You checked your pulse again to remind yourself that it was still beating. Life was still going. You even have a child that fills you with such an intense, aching, healing love.

Father Gabriel also told you that feeling dead didn’t make you a bad mother or a bad wife or bad person, it simply meant you were broken and grieving.

“Y/N?”

“What?” you growled — and immediately wished it hadn’t come out that way. In your head, you told Carl you were sorry, you’d do better next time. Then, you prayed to stop hating the sight of Siddiq, the sound of his voice. Wished Dale or Hershel or Glenn or T-Dog or Deanna or Denise or Sasha were there for, for—advice, support, you don’t know…

And because the rev has enough on his plate and needs to rest, maybe later you’d risk everyone’s ire and sneak away to visit Mr. Jones at the junkyard. At least he wasn’t dead yet, too. Maybe visiting him would convince him to move back to Alexandria.

“I never apologized for pulling you backward like that,” Siddiq said to you, a little short. Couldn’t blame him.

In truth, you had done all you were going to do to Negan after smacking him the once, but Sid wouldn’t have known that. Wouldn’t have known how grabbing you like that would flip an alarm, either.

No use moping, if your positions were reversed, you’d have wrangled him back, too.

And yet, you just caught yourself licking your teeth and sneering in response to his apology.

But it wasn’t out of anger or hatred so much as…you still aren’t certain what the emotion was. Grief, depression, shame, all three. You supposed it didn’t make a difference. Didn’t feel like much of anything.

Briefly, you put two fingers to your neck to check your pulse again. Still beating. Still alive.

Alive, and needing to eat some crow, as it were.

“Don’t apologize, you were protectin’ our patient. What I did was wrong,” you recited. “I-I threatened a patient and then whacked him across the face.” Your conscience then prompted you to apologize again for what you’d said to him. “And, just—Siddiq, what I said to you was bullshit and lies and m'sorry I said it. Cruel bullshit, naught else. Don’t go believing a word of it.”

He wasn’t clicking through the playlists and songs anymore.

Appearing uncomfortable, he peeked at you before he put his attention back on the mp3. “Michonne said pulling you like that was a trigger, which is why you, um…I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t know.”

First, you relaxed your jaw. “Ain’t your job to know. It’s mine to learn past it.” Next, you spackled on something of a smile and added quietly, “It’s good that you, that you stepped in. Thank you.” You did mean it, for what it was worth.

How many minutes until the twenty was up, you wondered, and tried to not be obvious about checking the time on your wrist. Eyeing Michonne, she seemed more preoccupied with Judith than with being punctual regarding your penance/sentence.

“PTSD is serious. That’s why I’m sorry, I, um,” Siddiq faltered. He went back to clicking through the music choices.

“We all have at least a little PTSD, bud.” With a light nudge to try and convey camaraderie or something, you attempted to tease, “C'mon, you chosen at least one song, yet?”

“Sorry, let me just, uh…” and with a few more clicks, the first song started. It was Bohemian Rhapsody.

“You chose the playlist ‘Songs Everyone Likes.’”

He chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that one.”

The memory of belting out this song with Carl, Glenn, Beth, and Maggie before your group even found the prison whooshed back and you started to smile���until you remembered that Carl was gone now. He was dead.

You’d forgotten all of that for hot second, but your Carl was dead. So was Glenn. So was Beth. So was Lori, who'd joined, so was T-Dog, so was...

Maybe you were dead, too. You felt dead—so, you pressed your fingers to your neck to feel for a pulse.

Still beating.

The lyrics of the song began to register. You know, the early parts like ‘I don’t wanna die,’ and ‘carry on, as if nothing really matters.’ Sounded a little too personal, tell you the truth.

And just like that, the song was skipped. You glanced at Siddiq.

He shook his head. “Not the right mood for it.”

“Mm.”

The intro to the next song in the shuffle was very bouncy, and ‘Dance to the Music’ started to jive through the earbuds. You didn’t sway along like you naturally would have. No urge to.

The song played, finished.

“First time I heard this was in Shrek,” Siddiq made small talk while munching on his apple. “Love that movie.”

You might’ve hummed in acknowledgment, you aren’t sure. He handed your apple to you, you took it. Held it.

The next song started, ‘Young Hearts Run Free.’

The song played, finished.

Siddiq made more small talk. “I remember that one in Romeo + Juliet, the one with, um, Claire Danes? We watched that version in high school after we finished reading it.”

You hummed again. Pressed your fingers to your wrist, just in case. But no, your heart was still beating.

The next song started, ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash.’

“A lot of oldies,” he commented once the singing began. He took the final nibble off his apple.

“But goodies,” you responded, willing yourself to sound less stiff and monotone. “Modern stuff is on this playlist, too, don’t worry.”

The song played. Finished.

The next song started. ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’ Siddiq promptly skipped it once the refrain started and the lyrics sank in.

“Good call,” you grunted.

The next song started. ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.’

“Oh n—please skip this one, too." You loved that one, but you’d queued it up for Glenn at his and Maggie’s wedding, and it was not the time to go reminiscing. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Checked your pulse. Still beating. "Please skip 'Thunderstruck' if it comes on, too?”

The mp3 player clicked as Siddiq skipped the song. Next on the shuffle was ‘Under Pressure.’

He adjusted his seat and coughed. “This one fits.”

A combination sigh/groan was your contribution, because he was right. The two of you were the only doctors major medical personnel left standing.

The song played. Siddiq’s knees and wrists bounced to the rhythm where he sat beside you. You stared at your boots. Where’d all the soot and dirt on them and your clothes come from, you couldn’t remember…

…

It was when a strong gust of cold wind blew that you noticed that the music had stopped, your earbud was out, and the sky wasn’t as cloudy anymore.

When did that happen?

You sat up and blinked a few times, your apple still in one hand, Shane’s necklace in the other.

“Hey,” you heard Siddiq call.

What, why were your cheeks wet? “S-sorry, I,” you dropped the necklace, wiped your eyes with your sleeve, and put the apple down, “must’ve, um, checked out.”

“I’m not sure how long it was after it began when I noticed the change,” he let you know. “Is…this what happened earlier?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Earlier was somethin’ else. This was just—” ‘Dissociation,’ was a misunderstood word, so Denise taught you. And you didn’t want to use the word for that reason.

You really wanted to keep a shred of dignity for yourself in the eyes of that guy. He didn’t even know that you’d hurt yourself when you’d ‘blacked out’ the other day…so, you decided upon a white lie highly euphemistic layman's term. “I spaced out.”

He nodded, but his brows sunk, as if he weren’t buying it.

And when he did that thing where someone slightly opens their mouth because they’ve put together a response, you changed the subject. “Listen to anythin’ good while I was in space?”

Siddiq wasn’t swayed. “Do you still feel detached?”

“A little,” you answered truthfully, inhaling deep and checking your watch to try gauging how long you’d been out. Except, you had no recollection of what time it had been earlier, so it was a bust. God save you, you were a mess.

“Sid. I’m sorry you’re trapped dealin’ with this shit, it ain’t fair to you. If, if you wanna bounce early, don’t feel obligated to stay, and, and—like, if you don’t wanna do this whole music thing, it’s fine. W-we don’t want you feelin’ unsafe.”

“Unsafe? Y/N, I…” he paused. “I forgive you for what you said earlier. And I’m not scared of you. Hitting Negan wasn’t okay, but…” another pause. “Compared to the way most others are baying for his blood and how you defended saving his life, I mean—you helped me save him, Y/N—” He lifted his hands, palms to the sky. “You’re my friend, we work together, it’s not like I can’t see that you’re drowning.”

Nothing prepared you to hear that.

He was calling you a friend and was still trying to be understanding, after all that…

You wanted to slam your head on a hard, rough surface and cry from the shame and simultaneous relief. You also didn’t want to accept it, and so pushed back: “You were alone out there too long. Friends d-don’t tell friends they wish they were dead.” And mean it, you did not confess.

But of all things, he merely raised one shoulder and snorted. “I’m a really good friend?”

Tears spilled at the same time that you almost laughed.

No, it's true, you almost laughed. Things felt a little unreal again, but in not a bad way. The most you could do right then was send up thanks for the mercy that came out of the mess. You pinched your wrist first, then felt for your pulse.

“Compared to a few minutes ago, do you feel more like yourself now?” Siddiq made sure.

Huh. You used to ask Shane a very similar question, when he was forgetting his goodness.

You kept feeling the small beats at your wrist, reminding you that you were indeed alive, therefore capable of healing and growth.

“Heart’s still beating,” you sniffled, making yourself smile at him. The hatred and disgust you’d felt earlier seemed to you less like a fact and more like a bad dream.

Then, from the far right of the oak tree, you heard Aaron’s voice saying, “Not yet, man, they’ve got four minutes left.”

Aaron and Daryl then came into view. They waved to you as they walked by with the babies, another reminder that you that you weren’t fully dead inside. Gracie was in a stroller, TJ was bundled in Daryl’s arms. Your husband lingered behind, eyes on you as he absently pecked a kiss to your baby’s covered head.

Something stirred, and your chest fluttered and tugged in their direction, reminding you again that your heart was still beating. So was Maggie’s, so was her and Glenn’s baby’s, so was Rick’s, so was Aaron’s. Life was still going. You had a child, a husband; lifelines. Their hearts were still beating, too.

The unexpected wink and the way Daryl’s gaze softened as he looked at you made you feel as if you’d been freezing and someone just handed you a cup of cocoa with mini marshmallows. The way he next moved his lips to pronounce ‘troublemaker,’ however, you ought to have seen coming a mile away.

The heaviness in your body eased a bit. A smile started prodding the corners of your mouth. Shyly, you returned the wave and mouthed ‘mangy hick,’ your wrist bumping against the photograph sticking from your shirt pocket.

Aaron noticed him acting like a dope lagging and gestured for him to keep up. “Four more minutes and we’ll come back to get her.”

Daryl called out "slowpoke," and waved your baby’s little arm to the two of you as they walked away. He kept peeking behind him, too, it warmed you. When they reached far enough, you once again took the photograph out from your pocket.

With a final peek at Carl’s picture, you sent up a prayer and reaffirmed the promise that you’d made to him. That you’d live for him, do him proud.

So long as your heart was still beating, you’d try to do him proud. “Seems you and I got four more minutes, Sid. What’ll we pick?”

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