#I wanted to pay a tribute for those child memories for a long time

[nnibarrel]

Kenabres puppet theater

Remember @murthingsblog's commander Eloa from my recent reblogs? I put her cameo here cause she fits well) According to her biography, she is the daughter of a priestess from the temple of Desna, but, at the same time, even there she was such a “naughty child,” so she's a bit sharp-tongued towards everyone 😈

[stramberryparadice]

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN #139 - THE IMPOSSIBLE FREEDOM ?

Here is the English translation of the post I wrote here in French.

I apologize in advance for my mistakes, I'm not good in English but I hope that will be understood.

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Shingeki no kyojin is finished. A leading manga of the 21st century has just ended in tears, blood, mourning, disappointment, frustration… and love. So many emotions come to me when I read this final chapter, I needed to express them as clumsily as it is. I’m sure it’s going to get lost in the Internet, but whatever— it is necessary to remove both the joy and the frustration that I feel to pay tribute to Isayama who offered us a work as powerful as it is cursed.

As intense as it is uneven, as perfect as it is imperfect.. like his tragic hero Eren Jäger, who shows us that men are so weak and pitiful in the face of time and the cruelty of the world. How much even if this hero possesses in his hands the power of a God. My analysis will surely be clumsy, I apologize. And I will not fail to point out at the end the bitterness felt on the final development of some characters including that of Misaka Ackerman.

Eren like “CryBaby”

What a slap for the reader to witness such an emotional picture. Yes. Isayama reminds us to what extent Eren isn't a brave knight, not a charismatic hero, not the genocidal demon of this story but a child.. whose weight of Destiny is too heavy to bear. Scan 139 reminds us to what extent we have lost ourselves, just as Eren has in the way, forgetting the very essence of the story that has been told to us from the beginning. It’s not a story of geopolitical warfare, a biological parasite, titanic monsters, a northern deity, or a philosophical-esoteric trip. It's the story of a boy who wants to emancipate himself, to live for himself, tasted of the thirst for adventure, the tranquility of his loved ones but born in a cruel and alienating world that leaves room only for death, abuse of power, betrayal and despair .

A journey where the child becomes an adult at the cost of his or her life. Learning the most painful lesson… To be an adult is to renounce one’s dreams, to bend one’s knee in the face of the servitude of one’s mortal condition, to be content with one’s cage in order to enjoy the little that one can have at one’s disposal, to mourn those who may disappear from one’s life.

A young boy who dreamed only of freedom, surrounded by people who love him. A child whose inspirations, as impulsive, unreasonable and immature as they may be, will push him to his limits. A child who grew up too fast, who could not mourn his mother, aware of her physical and spiritual weakness, who was confronted with the violence of this world which reminded him of his condition of being insignificant, a pawn on the chessboard of the "Way".

A child whose powers worthy of a God then gives him the possibility to realize the unthinkable, almost the absolute fantasy of every Man : to shape a world in his image, to be as free as a bird flying above the clouds without reddish stain to touch the sky. Move forward, Move forward whatever the price… move forward for an illusion of freedom, for an infantile obsession.

And by assuming the role of the wicked “demon” of tales so that the brave knights can free this world from the evil that eats it.

Lost between the present, the past, the future.. time no longer makes sense. Only finality counts, annihilating its titans whatever the price. They have to pay for his mother. They have to pay for his fallen comrades. They must pay for reminding us of our pitiful helplessness as human beings.

But the Demon also has a heart, remorse, feelings, there are people who attach him to this world. Therefore, what to choose?

Divine Freedom or Mortal Love? The impossible equation... Although Eren may have travelled the road in search of the answer, how can freedom and humanity be reconciled? Free your people and protect your loved ones, though imperfect?

______

He will not find the answer— neither by searching the past of the goddess Ymir, not by consulting the other Titans carriers, not by creating the different alternative realities that led to the same observation… only death can free the bird from its cage, only the death of Humanity is able to reconcile the sublime and the hideous. Or rather, a common enemy that will crystallize all their ills. But who would be crazy, brave enough to accept being the victime ?

Like a Christic figure, Eren will assume this role. But not without having to confide his last wishes, his last secrets that can no longer contain… because yes, the demon is limited by his adult condition of 19 years. Yes.. the child has grown up. Recklessness, impulsiveness, daring in the face of death, the omnipotence of the child leaves room for a teenager who is now afraid of dying, who has succumbed to love, who doubts, who is aware of his weakness.

Eren has finally become a man...in pain. He finally accepts his feelings, his weakness in the face of death that awaits him.

He’s not a running child anymore. The plates are only explicit about this. The power of narration.. we come back to the fundamental of this history, which is human psychology. The feelings, the relationships that unite all people between them. Friends or enemies, men or women, child or adult, Eldien or Mahr... Despite our differences, our disagreements, we are all equal and weak in the face of death... but also in the face of the love we can bring to others.

Yes, Eren is a weak hero. Yes, he admits to loving Mikasa. He admits that until the very end, he didn't know how it was going to go. That he was himself a pawn in the divine game of Ymir. Another puppet at the service of a little girl who is also blinded by her duality, by her toxic love for her executioner. One cannot remain insensitive to this remarkable development of the character of Eren whose death was inevitable. For whoever plays with divinities can only lose his humanity, his freedom too. By the ultimate sacrifice of his selfish and human desires finally. Eren alone became the true savior of this world. He will also have kept his promise to his friends, to the beings he loves by offering them last memories through the “Way”.

Selfless Love or True Freedom

As Mikasa said: The world is cruel, but also … Very beautiful.

Whoever sets a glance without hatred on the world, with compassion, with love for his neighbor will be able to claim to touch with the finger this Freedom so sought.. a selfless love, not turned to satisfy one’s own selfish desires.

Because Love, like hate, takes different forms.

Love connecting us to our roots, our family of blood…

Love binding two beings who love each other, desire each other, cherish each other, seek each other….

Love that binds us to his comrades, his battalion, his family of choice, his heart…

Love that life brings to us in all its forms…

Love… this power that is unpredictable and uncontrollable.

And that can become the obsession of a lifetime. It is by becoming an obsession that love becomes as destructive as hatred, and sends us back to our condition as an alienated Man… locked up in his “Path”, in his cage.

It's by demonstrating resilience and self-sacrifice that man can taste freedom. We can find redemption in the love that others have for him, that we also have for him. For a few hours, a few years…

At the cost of a renewal of the cycle of hatred, because man remains selfish, not all are ready to make sacrifices. Therefore, Mikasa and Eren have made the greatest of sacrifices for the survival of their comrades and the world: they give up their chance to be happy together, sacrifice their desire to be together for the rest of humanity. As in tragedies, the main heroes are victims of Destiny, are those who will pay the price so that others can flourish and live. The children have become adults.

Just as Armin is no longer the whiny little boy to protect. Unlike Eren, he managed to learn from his mistakes, grieve, face his own fears, confess his love to the girl he loves. It is finally he who will raise the wounded little boy, who will comfort him.

The frustration

Mikasa is the main character of the story. It's through her that awakening is made, it is through her hand that she closes this long journey. In Eren’s memories, it is always central. It is the key, the final solution.

It's his psychological, his emotional journey that we will follow throughout the manga. Eren is only a complement, the character who crystallizes his goals. In a world where men are “dominant”, the woman must bend her knee, support her prince so that the light shines on him. Isayama knew how to play perfectly on this classic code of narration. Whether one agrees or not with the conclusion of certain female characters, the work often highlights the fact that men are only victims of their passions and obsessions.

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Only women seem to emerge victorious in the face of the cruelty of the world : they take up arms (Historia), continue to fight in the face of despair (Mikasa), enjoy life and bring joy around her (Sasha), support other women in their emancipations ( Ymir with Historia) question their education (Gaby) disobey (Annie), go against the “moral” principles to survive (Ymir Frizt who continues to love his executioner), sacrifice for the common good (Hanzi Zoe)… But of course… without also paying the price of sacrifice and making concessions.

Historia bears a child of a man whom she does not seem to like but assumes the role of the mother whom she would have liked to have while assuming the heavy attribute of the office of Queen in a country plagued by nationalist tendencies guided by fear. With Eren’s help, she did not give in to the temptation of self-sacrifice but decided herself who she would save or not, what path she wanted to follow. Her desire was to be a mother, a good mother. Whatever the father, it was an indestructible motherly love that she wanted to offer to a child. The one she never had.

Mikasa agreed to kill Eren because, if she had given him another answer, their life as fugitives would have been but a fleeting dream and Eren’s death was inevitable.

Despite her powerful love for Eren (as addicted as he may be, explained by the power of the Ackermans?), she will break the chains of her servitude by killing her only Love. She is the light. She accomplished the journey of a true heroine by demonstrating resilience, by giving of herself for the world.

She had only eyes for Eren.. was open to others, to show empathy, a desire to continue living for other comrades who are dear to him.

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Mikasa also leads the way in Ymir Fritz… you can love a monster, you can be a prisoner of a toxic relationship but you can free yourself from it. One can become free, but the price to pay will be to carry this infinite sadness, this frustration of having been able to live another story if things would have been different. By her kiss, she showed what true Love is.

Although the frustration is present, although we would have liked her to turn the page and rebuild her life, she must also pay the price of her “freedom”, of her “survival”: haunted by the sacrifice of Eren, guardian of her memories, from her grave as if to preserve her existence as long as she can live.

Once again, women show that they are stronger than we think. So Ymir was also able to free himself of his toxic link with the King by making the Titans disappear.

In the image of the bittersweet end of the chapter, which shows us that the disappearance of a monster, of a divine force “responsible” for the horrors, is not the long-awaited salvation.

The vices, the human fears will remain the poison, preventing us from reaching this illusory freedom. Men do not need deities to dig their own way to death.

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From "occidental" point of view, it is true that this is a blow to the “strong” women of the work still alive. Reduced to being collateral victims of Love, as toxic as this link may be (Ymir-Mikasa). Reduced to attaching themselves to winning or losing romantic figures depending on whether their love-interests is the villain of the story (Mikasa-Annie). Reduced to their role as mother-benefactor (Historia-Gaby).

It’s awkward, but I think Isayama wanted to show that no one is spared. That no character can claim complete tranquility and sweet freedom.

Everyone has had to sacrifice something to survive, and women and men are equal in this judgment. Women also remain victims in a world that remains dominated also by the cruelty of Men (the human race in general). They are not completely free, they are also trapped in roles.

Everyone carries the weight of his choice. That characters have a duty to remember, to pass on to future generations the horrors they have lived to try not to reproduce the same mistakes. Even if their new life choices are imperfect, disappointing for those on the outside.

Levi sacrificed many of his comrades to fulfill his promise to Erwin in his quest for truth and to continue the fight for Eldian freedom.

Armin and Mikasa sacrificed Eren: their friend, their love, the dearest being to fulfill their promise to discover the outside world and touch that freedom.

Like Levi Ackerman and his love for his battalion comrades. As for Mikasa and his love for Eren (because she saw the human behind the monster). She has been waiting for a sign for 3 years to see him again in order to follow up on “see you later Eren”.

Finally, a bird comes to give him his wrap. To encourage him to go forward again. To continue to live…

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The most free people are those who honestly and sincerely love someone. Those who are able to see the beauty of the world despite its ugliness. Who give without waiting for return. Those who continue to look at the world without hatred, those who do not succumb to its cruelty. Tears are running down…

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply: Chapter 3

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage Fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. Something neither of them really wanted but are now discovering just how much each needed. Away from their childhoods, their families & their homes, Namjoon & Brishti (the OC) are privileged immigrants who slowly build a home, a family & a true sense of self, together in 1960s London. Please note this is not the typical immigrant experience of that timespace and I’ve taken many-a-leap to write the fluuuufffiness I wanted to write.

A/N: It’s unabashed fluff. And eventual smut but I hope you’re okay with a really slow burn. Like, reaaaally slow. Both our characters are introverts & met as strangers so it’s going to take them a while to get the *ahem* fire going.

Big big big love to @sahmfanficbts, @mintjoonlep, @holdinbacksecrets, @sunshyngal, @xjoonchildx - who give me so much love and encouragement & whose straight up genius writing makes me swooooon!

Characters: Brishti is our OC. She’s a feminist, obviously. She’s Indian, wheatish in colour, curvy & slightly short. Brishti is bengali & her name means ‘Rain’. Her pet name is RimJhim which means the sound of rain. (Namjoon calls her Rim & she calls him Joon) This whole story is a tribute to Forever Rain.

The Namjoon in this fic is what I imagine he would have been had he not followed his dreams at the age of 13. Hopefully, I’m able to do justice to the idea as I write ahead.

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Brishti & Namjoon meet her colleagues. They listen to the then-rising band The Beatles & take a strong liking to one particular track, if you know what I mean. Again, sorry to spoil but there’s no smut yet. I was not kidding when I said it’s a slooooow burn. Next chapter, it’s happening. There's not much conversation in this chapter, either. Is this almost 3k words of just CONTEXT to the actual smut or just a tease - you tell me!

Also, someone else we love is also introduced in this chapter!

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Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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Namjoon loved his weekends now. They were like a real couple, Brishti and him… setting the never ending “final touches” in their home, together. They went out to pubs and gardens, libraries and cafes together. And yet, to both their secret dismay, they hadn't moved ahead from that one hug they had shared. They'd played, instead, with words and been more and more intimate in their conversations.

Brishti introduced him to her colleagues - her group among the staff at the British Library. Working there was her pride & these folk were her joy. This was nerve-wracking for Namjoon because he knew how much she loved them. These were her people. Her true tribe. It was almost like he was meeting her parents. Instead of two indian elders (whom he had spoken to on the only international call she had made since their wedding), he found himself faced with a weird band of strangers. An English couple Harry & Kate who had adopted the library instead of a child, an elder woman from Japan, Sayuri-san - whose stories Brishti narrated to Namjoon all the time, a Korean guy (his age!) & Yana, a girl, Brishti’s age who was half English, half Iranian & completely in love with Sam, the black historian from America, as Brishti had reported. As they settled in for their picnic in Hyde Park, Namjoon tried his best to hide his shock when he found Sam was - one, a girl & two, as tall as him. He wondered which attribute threw him off more. Still, he was completely enjoying himself with Brishti’s Unlikely Gang of Weirdos that Will Save The World. That’s what she called them. Sayuri-san agreed - They were all groovy outcasts who had somehow clawed their way into the (apparently) cutthroat world mainstream librarians.

Brishti was glad to see Namjoon really hit it off with the only other Korean she knew, the guy who’d told her about the only place in London that sold black bean noodles, made the right way. Namjoon had almost cried when she had brought them over from work. The two of them spoke as if they had been thick as thieves for years. They talked about Korean poetry and the folk music they had to participate in their childhoods. They spoke about the music archive section of the library, which was heaven for Min Yoongi. The passion in Yoongi’s eyes when he spoke about maybe someday taking a class about world music appreciation was something Namjoon wished to have too, but wasn’t yet ready to admit.

As they were packing up their picnic, the conversation flowed to a new band in the country. Brishti spoke about how every young girl she had met recently just could not stop talking about how groovy The Beatles are. The elders in charge of the music archive brushed them off as a fad but she was insistent to bring it up every meeting - after all, it was teenage girls that had popularised & helped usher in the lyrical music of Vivaldi. Or of Lisztomania - that popularised the soft romantic tones of Liszt which formed the base of the modern love song. Namjoon loved to see her almost up in arms, struggling to find a better word for the admiration that girls had for music and musicians.

“It’s not hysteria… or fanaticism… it- it’s just love.” She had said. No one disagreed. In fact, everyone in her group was persuaded to (at least) give The Beatles a listen over the weekend.

And so, This evening, A Hard Day’s Night played as they arranged books & records at home. Brishti was arranging the books, apparently not having had enough of the task despite working as a full time librarian. Namjoon’s heart ached when he thought about how Brishti loved her job. Thankfully his mind never stayed on that thought for long. Namjoon wished he could pay attention to the song. These days, paying attention to anything but Brishti was almost impossible. The smallest movement in her, the smallest stir intrigued him.

Meanwhile, Brishti had been trying to figure out a way of getting him to touch her &… as silly as that sounded to her rational mind she couldn’t really come out and say it. Night after night when they’d stayed up talking about things or listening to music or just simply reading their respective books, on the floor or by the window with their legs sprawled out in front of each other, she wished he’d touch her… that somehow maybe he’d notice her feet. Strange as it was, she kept thinking about his hands, his fingers tracing the contour of her ankle while she didn’t turn one page of her book for almost an hour.

She understood the problem - both of them were so hyper-aware of each other while pretending not to be that an accident couldn’t really occur. Things had to be done & Brishti thought about how she shouldn’t let tradition dictate who makes the first move. She also kicked herself for not following tradition and stopping him from taking his pillow & blanket away to the couch on their wedding night they were supposed to sleep on the same bed. It made her heart race that she could sleep next to this Korean Greek God-like feminist man. Ufff. She was covered in tense knots everywhere and anytime she even thought of making a move, the fear in her would make her do something else - like unpack all the books into a makeshift bookcase.

They were facing in opposite directions in the same room and Brishti couldn’t help glancing back at Namjoon again and again. The broad expanse of his back made her long to hug him again. They hadn’t touched each other since she let go of the hug. It made her ache, the memory of him moving away from her. Next time they touch, she wouldn’t let go first - of this she was certain.

Brishti looked at him again & smiled, wondering how someone so tall could look so tiny & cute. Namjoon did look surprisingly tiny, poring over the vinyls & neatly arranging them. She smiled thinking about how he had spent some time wondering if the records should be kept chronologically or alphabetically.

Finally, he had announced, “Ofcourse! I have it! The category has to be mood! The...” Brishti loved the small pauses Namjoon took to find the perfect word. “The story of each album and the feeling it brings out!” The way he smiled, pleased with his decision created a flutter in her heart.

Looking at him poring over each song in each album trying to discern what the overall feeling of it was, she felt an unbearable urge to tease him, to disturb his cataloguing. She would go over and irritate him… probably tickle his waist or blow in his ears. Or maybe just nuzzle his neck. Brishti wondered if these things would actually irritate Namjoon or perhaps lead to something else... The thought made her blush so fiercely, she turned to face her pile of books. Brishti wished she could walk over, silently demand a space in Namjoon’s lap, he would throw out anything that crowded his lap & she would sit there, being cuddled, enveloped in him & talk about songs… if she could talk, at such a moment that is.

She needed to stop staring at him and yet, she couldn’t help but look... She was a warm-blooded woman after all. And Kim Namjoon was a particularly delicious man. It wasn’t so much that he was tall… plenty of men were tall. (She rolled her eyes thinking how most everyone was taller than her.) Unlike other men, though, Namjoon was not awkward or gangly. He had wide shoulders and a gorgeous neck. She had to actively keep her eyes focussed on something else when she could see the contours of his chest.

In that first week of them living together she wanted him. She felt the heat of being seen by those sharp beautiful eyes that held a deep fire in them. Brishti found herself thinking more and more about how his back looked, how it would feel to be cuddled up against that broad beautiful chest, how it would feel to touch him and to be touched by him. She blushed & laughed to herself when her spontaneous thought was that she’d like to “climb that tree” - whenever Namjoon stood up after being scrunched over his table, writing. That yearning awakened a much fiercer part of Brishti -

Why couldn’t she?! He was her husband. They have to come closer at some point, so what was she waiting for? Without a second thought, her body moved to get up & walk over to him. But as it had happened every time, her mind caught up to her at the very last minute. As Brishti walked over, bent, stretched out... for a pile of books close to him. She was close enough to touch him. And still, she just picked up the books & walked back. Thankfully for Brishti, she had a natural sort of nonchalance. Something Namjoon envied. Brishti did not know what this little stunt of hers did to him. Namjoon, with his fists balled, had to hold himself back in that moment. He had to stop himself from grabbing her; from pulling her into his lap and having his way with her.

The gentle thread-like tug he had felt when he’d first seen Brishti’s photos... it had become a magnetic pull now. Shocking and also somehow inevitable.

It had been more than a month of them living together and Namjoon was wrestling with something. An idea, apparently. It was as though an idea was caught in a vast net that he had laid out across the ocean of his mind. But he was having trouble fishing it out. He understood there was no point forcing it, that the idea, the thought would emerge when it, or when he was ready.

Taking his time, slowly, Namjoon was understanding how he had done the perfect thing for her, accidentally. He was confused too, when his instinct told him to let his bride sleep alone on their marital bed the first night they had moved in this flat. He had reasoned that it was the decent thing to do. Unknowingly, he gave her the time to explore, to own that space; Not crowding her with his body. Not invading her with expectations that, no matter how silent, would be blaringly evident. That was the right thing to do. Then.

Now things felt different. Now, it felt like she had made that space, this whole home hers. But then that’s where his thought-net felt stuck. The thought he wanted to fish out kept pulling at him, telling him she needed something else now. Like Brishti craved something else now. He wondered if she, like him, craved touch. Was that why her body instinctively moved, stretched, inched closer towards him these days. Was this why he’d found his shirt among the blanket instead of the laundry basket the other day?

Namjoon tried to shake off these thoughts again - they felt dangerous, explosive. What was happening? He looked back at his beautiful wife and saw her stretch her arms, then her abdomen, all the way till her hips and then bend forward to touch her toes. She mewled, very softly when she did that. Namjoon felt the familiar flip in his stomach again. This time, thankfully, the thought leapt up within reach too.

Namjoon suddenly understood just how feline Brishti is. Somehow, it was a key he needed. The idea surged through him & made him stand up. Because it wasn’t just an idea, it was an epiphany. Brishti looked at him, her eyes asking, saying, expecting something he didn’t understand fully.

The tingle that ran down his spine told him he was about to.

“You okay?” Brishti asked, concerned & embarrassed because the move she expected hadn’t come. But then again, it was probably too much to think Namjoon had stood up to carry her & throw her on their bed. Wasn’t it?

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room looking confused. Namjoon recovered & asked, “Coffee?”

Brishti smiled & nodded. Namjoon rushed to the kitchen. The catching of this thought excited him. Because after living with her for almost a month, he had just now realised it is this attribute - of being feline-ly feminine or femininely feline - that is what makes his body almost overpower any semblance of restraint his mind had imposed.

At first it seemed silly but soon Namjoon realised it isn’t. Not at all. It really clicked in place like the right key, the precise note does - he understood how to BE with her. Be there for the feline creature-like woman that Brishti was revealing herself to be: The way she walked, slowly almost moodily… letting her feet touch and caress each surface her feet felt. She would be walking across the room but would stop just to walk back and forth, softly, in a way that one can’t really call pacing at all. And everytime she touched something she liked, or saw or tasted something she loved, she made these small sounds that would make Namjoon’s heart melt. They were always half-way between a purr and a moan and they made him wonder what pleasure would make her sound like. Namjoon thought about how Brishti is graceful but her grace, like the curves of her beautiful body, aren’t timid; How, it’s a grace that announces itself... sometimes even before she walks in.

It isn’t the only thing that attracted him to her, not by a far cry. Namjoon thought about how he loves her mind, her words. But this felt, somehow, more… more visceral or... wanting to be. Could something formless long to be touched?; To become tangible, touchable? This feeling, in his chest and his gut. This feeling within him, it jumps, flips every time she walks by. These days it seems like Brishti walks by closer and closer each time she passes him. Like she needs to feel the texture of his skin the same way she needs to feel the slight drag of the rug on the soles of her feet. And it just adds more depth to this deep cavernous feeling within him. Instinctual whispers echoing within-

Why does it feel like he needs to touch a fragrance?

Like all he needs to do is reach out?

Like the moment he will reach out, an essence, an aroma will become an experience?

It felt like Brishti was calling out to him silently. That magnetic pull was stronger than ever and it was pulling him, drawing him to her, telling him to reach out, so she can find her way to him. That feeling, the way he was being pulled… that was feline. Like she needed him to reach out so she could make him hers too. And then, then it happened. The first four notes of ‘And I love her’ played and pulled him to her.

In that moment, in their 7th week together, as Brishti was tracing the lines of Namjoon’s back, gawking at him, thinking about this man - this gorgeous, curious, wonderful man - as her husband… a thought so fantastical it would make her squirm in her seat. Just as she was recovering from the thought, releasing the tension in her shoulders. The knots he didn’t know he caused, Namjoon kept the cups of coffee aside and extended his hand.

‘I give her all my love, that’s all I do…” To him, the instant she did it again, - the stretching her arms all the way up. The little moan she made every time she did that, the way her back arched and highlighted all her curves… it drove him, his body, his instinct to reach out.

“And if you saw my love, you’d love her too.”

The stomach flipped, again. This time, though, his instinct acted before his mind knew what he was supposed to do. Thankfully, his mind caught up -

He had just reached out. Reached out for her to claim him. But to one who didn’t know everything that had been going on inside both their hearts, it would look like he was inviting her to dance. Brishti looked at his hand and then at his eyes and suddenly Namjoon understood the reason for this magnetic pull... these lyrics is what she was saying all along -

“A love like ours could never die, as long as I have you near me...”

She took his hand & left no distance between them. Brishti realised there was music playing in the room only after she took Namjoon’s hand. Before this, she could only hear her own heartbeat, sharpened to an intensity never before experienced. Sharpened to a glint in a way that only love can. Love… and unmistakable, undeniable lust. Her heart had been beating with so much longing it had clouded everything else.

Now, in this moment, with his heart so close to hers, she could finally hear the music. This is what she had needed. This is what her heart had been pining for. And she knew. Without the shadow of a doubt she knew... he had heard her.

Brishti moved to the simple guitar strings that were tugging them both. The melody deepened each time the same four notes played. And each time they rooted deeper in the soil of her heart, she moved him too. His hands on her waist, caressing her curves everytime the four notes played. And they played over and over again… Namjoon followed the lyrics and sang along with his beautiful deep dark chocolate voice in her ears, saying -

“And I love her...”,

And his strong arms around her. How could she… Brishti, even if her name didn’t mean the rain, how could she have resisted pouring?

“Bright are the stars that shine, dark is the sky, I know this love of mine will never die...”

This evening was the first time they’d really touched each other. Stood so close to each other. Moved together.

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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please let me know what you think! Get into my messages about it! I would love to hear what you felt about this!

This is the song that's mentioned here in case anyone is curious.

[poodlejoonas]

Dad!BC AU - before and after

Because I’m feeling so soft tonight, I wanna share my thoughts on the guys before and after they become dads. Everyone knows that kids change people, but sometimes the change is nice and wholesome. 

I blame Joel and his sentimental edgy ass for that post on Instagram earlier.

(Under the read-more for length)

As the first dad of the group, Joonas was terrified of what the change would bring for him and Kirsten. He knew he would make his mistakes and he dreaded the day they would come. He was afraid that he was too immature to be a father - he read the comments online about him as a punk, about his Danish girlfriend who could barely read the hate comments written about her, and about their baby and how so many people “wished the poor girl luck” in dealing with a childish father like him. On top of that, Kirsten’s parents were begging her to leave Finland and him so they could help raise Sohvi because they thought they could do a better job than him. He was motivated to become the best dad he could be to prove them all wrong, but also to give his daughter the best life she deserved. He admits to his mistakes in the early days of fatherhood - he knows he should have been kinder to Kirsten when she was struggling mentally as a new mom.

Years later, with their third child on the way, the first two are a little bit older and they adore the hell out of their dad. Sohvi loves music like him and unapologetically stands her ground on the things she believes in. Lukas is a cannonball of a personality who loves the ice and playing hockey as much as his cousin Enkka. And the youngest of the Porkos, Jakob (aka “Jaska”) grows up to enjoy the softer things in life - reading, baking, knitting, and cuddling on a lazy day. Even through his busy schedule, he makes time to make memories with each of them in a way that matters to them - jamming out with Sohvi, skating with Lukas, and reading bedtime stories to Jaska. They all take his punk attitude, the very thing that many people used to discount his abilities to raise one child, let alone three. His family is perfect, and he realizes now that he had nothing to fear when he held his daughter for the first time.

--

Joel had never given the thought of a family of his own much consideration. He was too busy being a rock star and conquering the world, and he was afraid of what the change after having a kid would look like for him. He wanted to be happy for Joonas when he told the group in Rotterdam that he was going to be a dad, but he was afraid of losing his best friend to an uncertain future. He grew to love his niece, after some time and a little bit of effort on his part, but he still thought they just weren’t for him.

When he went out on a blind date with Emilia Peltonen months later, he wasn’t expecting it to go anywhere from there. But she gave him a second chance, and a third, and so on, until they were finally living together. Milli finally asked him what he thought of the idea of having kids, and he thought he needed “some time” to think on it. It took him all of about 12 hours to make up his mind, but they waited almost a full year before they were finally successful. In that time, he asked her to marry him, regardless of whether a baby would even come along. Still, he had his doubts about his own abilities to give his son a happy life - he was impatient and snappy, his mental health would fall apart some days, he was never the most affectionate person. And yet, none of that matters to little Viktor; Joel is his idol and, in his mind, he’s the coolest guy on Earth and he wants to be just like him someday. He teaches Enkka to skate and fosters his love for hockey and music. When Enkka needs a hug, either when he’s sleepy or he just woke up from a bad dream, he knows his dad will be there to catch him. So many people love to see that he went from being a dark edgelord online with a pessimistic sense of humor, to being the best dad and husband of their group whose public presence is covered with the signs of his pride in his family. Joel’s transformation surprised so many people, but the change was a welcome sight.

--

(TW: mention of miscarriage)

Niko wanted to be a dad from the beginning. When he dated Jenna in high school, the hopeless romantic in him dreamed of their little family and the future they would build together. He was devastated when they went their separate ways, thanks to their very different paths in life. He gave up on his dream of their little ones, until they crossed paths again. He knew he would be a fool to give up his second chance. He was overjoyed to learn that Jenna was pregnant with their first child; unlike the first two dads, he had no fears in the back of his mind that he would be a good one. As soon as he stepped into his house, he turned off the rock star Niko the world sees, and became Leevi’s dad and Jenna’s husband with every ounce of his being.

They made a promise to each other: when Leevi says his first word, it’s time for baby number two. Blissfully unaware of his parents’ plan to give him a sibling, Leevi watched Rommi walk by and blurted out his first word: kissa! Within two months, they were expecting their daughter to round out their little family. Lahja Rose was born the next February, two weeks past her original due date. Her father was a little heartbroken - she was supposed to be born on his birthday, hence the name Lahja (“gift”). But he was happy to finally have his little Rose to pay tribute to his favorite film (even if people made their fair share of jokes about it). They hit their first real snag as a family when, between 6 and 11 months, Lahja lived with on/off inner ear infections. Her parents did everything they could to help relieve her pain, eventually opting for surgery to fix it. Niko was a wreck for the full five months, refusing to leave his family’s side and being more than willing to fight anyone who disrespected his decision to have privacy with his family. Niko helped Jenna through the painful process of losing what would have been their third child. They mourned, they healed, and they decided that they were at peace just having their two.

--

Olli wanted to be a dad, but he was terrified when he learned he had two on the way. Kaarina wanted to laugh at his adorkable response to the news - “count them again” - but she knew his fears were valid. She’d known this man since they were children, and his response to the news was typical of him as an anxious mess under his cool and seemingly collected personality. Her fears were the same; after all, she had no idea what changes were to come for her health. But both girls had a hold on his heart long before they were even born. Olli was willing to do anything to make Riina and the twins feel comfortable until their arrival a week before Christmas. The moment Elina was placed in his arms and he saw the way Elisabet fit in Riina’s, he wondered where those fears even belonged now.

Well... just a little more than three months later, when he was convinced he’d gotten his wife pregnant again, Olli was rightfully scared shitless. He loved his girls, but he couldn’t have three kids before the first two even celebrated their first birthday. Having narrowly dodged that nightmare, he took all the next steps to ensure that it never happened again. He was happy with his two, and so was Riina. The Matelas spend their summers at their beach home, the twins developing as much of a love for the ocean as him. They wear the best coordinated outfits - but not matching though, Olli and Riina want them to maintain their own personality outside of being twins. He’s more than happy to let them put a tiara on him and invite him to their “garden tea party” in their shared room. It was tough at first, but he soon became a master of carrying one in each arm while they felt tall and safe with him. But he can be a bit strict with them sometimes; he loves them, but he doesn’t want them to follow in his footsteps as a rock star. He knows it can be difficult and fun, but he doesn’t want his daughters to fall victim to the lifestyle. And yet, Elisabet was determined to forge her own path in music, while Elina took to the ice like Lukas and Enkka as a figure skater. There was no use in trying to stifle their dreams. Olli’s proud of his girls, and he’s always wanted them to be happy.

--

Tommi’s family came pre-started. He was introduced to Marja Oksanen, a single mom to a young son who escaped a dangerous relationship with the father of her child. She was afraid that learning about her son would drive him away, that he wouldn’t bother with a single mom if she couldn’t put their relationship first. But Tommi loved this woman already, and someday he was sure he would love her son. He had his reasons to be wary around the boy since he’d never had a father figure in his life (outside of his Uncle Niko for the year or so that Marja and Miikka lived with him and Jenna). He let Miikka accept him first, and he waited for his cue before he grew into his role as his step-dad.

He readily agreed when Marja asked him if he wanted a baby with her (or “another cub” to fit the bear theme they adopted for their family). Tommi would have been happy to have several cubs with her. But when her pregnancy with Anna left her on constant bed rest and their daughter was born a month earlier than she should have, he couldn’t put her through that stress again. Marja’s health mattered more than the thought of a large family. Besides, he was more than happy with “Baby Bear” (Miikka) and “Cub” (Anna), because despite the fact that Miikka was not his son by birth, he was his son by love. And he was willing to defend that from anyone who dares to insult their family dynamic. Tommi is a master of being a dad; his energy calms both kids down when they’re stressed or in need of some love and understanding. It’s not an uncommon sight to see him with one on either side of him as the three of them relax in his recliner. So many people know Tommi as a man with a tough exterior, who doesn’t let his emotions show, doesn’t talk much, and doesn’t garner much attention in a room. But Tommi with his children is a different person altogether. He shares a side of him that belongs to his family.

--

As the last to become a dad, Aleksi had a wealth of experience to rely on when he needed help with his son. He made the difficult decision to voluntarily become a single dad when his ex-girlfriend Laila expressed zero desire to become a mother. He endured so much stress and heartache in the process, from Laila dragging him in the media over his decision to announce the pregnancy to being banned from Noah’s birth altogether. He first laid eyes on Noah when he was just under an hour old, having only been held by the nurses who prepared him to meet his father. He spared no expense in spending two nights in the hospital with him in a suite, even when Laila had long checked out and left without saying goodbye to either of them.

He felt a twinge of shame when he accepted help from Joonas in taking care of his son. He wanted to do it by himself and prove that he could be a good dad alone. But having a village of friends behind him helped ease him into everything that fatherhood would throw at him. When Noah is diagnosed on the autism spectrum when he’s three, Aleksi immediately learns everything he can to understand his son better. He becomes his biggest defender when people try to push him out of his comfort zone, telling him that they can respect his decision to wear his noise-cancelling headphones when he needs them or they can leave both of them alone. He learns sign language to communicate with Noah whenever he goes mute and he shows solidarity when Noah stims in public. He stays out of the dating scene for years to stop a revolving door of strangers from coming around his son who is shy around new people and lives with separation anxiety from losing his mother at a young age. But Hanna Laaksonen was the perfect exception, as a child psychologist with a Master’s degree in early childhood development. The rest of his friends watched as Aleksi fell in love with her and as Noah began to call her Mom. Still, Aleksi always put Noah first, the same as he always had, and Hanna respected that fact.

[lizacstuff]

Your thoughts on the epi? I thought it was a good episode overall. Serkan is acting the way I thought he would: he wants to be the perfect Dad, is scared she won't love him, is spoiling her but also teaching her things. I'm not quite sure why Kiraz isn't calling him Baba, maybe she needs time to adjust to calling him that. I have mixed emotions when it comes to the way Eda spied on Serkan. I understand she's worried but trust the man a little. No comments on Aydan and Ayfer! They are too much!

Hello! I liked the episode. It felt very light, very romcom-y and I thought it was very enjoyable to watch. Loved every minute of Serkan trying to be the ideal dad and I'm here for the Edser UST this ep brought. They want each other sooooo much. And, yes, Eda wants him, she wants him bad. I thought the custody thing at the end was silly and convoluted, but, hey, I'm totally here for the "they're not together and fighting their feelings, but forced to live together" trope so I will just ignore how unbelievable it would be for Edser to be drowning in hearteyes for each other all ep, getting along in regards to Kiraz, AND seemingly aware that Aydan/Ayfer were up to something and still allow a misunderstanding over their shenanigans to spiral to that nonsense degree.

Maybe the folks that think that Serkan & Eda were playing all the meddling family and friends are right, and they set it up beforehand, it's just that I've thought things were a fake out on this show so many times, only for them to be real, so at this point I'm operating under the assumption that this is just a romcom plot point to throw our romantic leads together and it's not worth examining it too closely.

I'll give my thoughts on the "Baba" vs "Serkan Bolat" thing and Eda's actions after we talk a bit about the B, C and D players... Thankfully we had plenty of Edser and Kiraz screen time this ep so the supporting stories didn't overwhelm the episode too much.

(much more under the cut)

That being said, who can we pay to get these people to mind their own f-cking business? LMAO. At least Engin and Piril weren't annoying and were actually trying to be helpful. I mean, Piril is still cancelled, but if she's not causing trouble now then she's not at the top of my shit list. However, I did laugh at her when she's sort of pleading with Serkan: "We've been friends for a long time, you'll understand why I did this." Um... what, Piril? You're sitting there approximately 72 hours after Serkan found out he has a child and he's already proven that he's ALL IN on being a father, and you expect Serkan to think you were right for hiding it from him? Cause why? He has already proven that any concerns you had about him rejecting Kiraz were invalid. The only thing wrong with Serkan's anger at Piril is that it will probably only last for that scene.

Anyone else think Kerem the assistant is an ass? Seriously, do they really want us to root for sweet Pina to be with this dickweasel? He's insecure, he thinks he knows it all, he's snarky and lashes out, he's vindictive. No thanks.

As for Aydan and Ayfer. Ooph. As punishment for their unprecedented assery this episode they both need to be stranded on a desert island with only each other. Only then maybe they'll learn not to insert themselves by such underhanded means. They're both giant pains in the ass, but Ayfer still annoys me more than Aydan. Because here's the thing, once Edser is back together and Serkan is happy, Aydan will fully embrace Eda again, but I don't think the same can be said for Ayfer. Did you see some of the bitchy, sour faces Ayfer was making, taunting Eda about her soft spot for Serkan. She's insufferable.

Turning to the nonsense meddling custody plot line, Kemal and Seyfi were just following orders, but what is Melo's excuse? It's unfortunate that the narrative pulled her into this. Ayfer may have her head in the sand, and not really care what Eda wants, but Melo does and she knew that Eda wanted to cooperate with Serkan and bring him into Kiraz's life, she knew that Eda was about 2 seconds from melting every time she was near Serkan, and that they were likely on the cusp of rekindling their relationship. There is no way she should have been complicit in trying to get evidence against Serkan or visiting lawyers behind Eda's back.

However, even after being complicit in Ayfer's nonsense, she still deserves a helluva lot better than Burak. That guy was annoying af this episode. What exactly does he think he's doing? I'm sorry, in that situation you step back and give the people going through such a monumental life change some space. Again, it's not like it needs to be forever, but you don't try and monopolize the kid's time the night of and 2 days after she meets her long-lost father. He needs to fuck all he way off.

Also since Eda had no interest in this guy, why is he coming over to tuck in the kid EVERY night? I get that he's been good to Kiraz and they have a nice relationship, but that's soooo overkill, it's just not normal. Especially since they've said they've only been living there a year. The only reason for a dude to revolve his entire life around a kid like that is because he's actively trying to get in the mom's pants. So when it comes to Burak's intentions, Eda is as dense as Serkan used to be with Balca/Selin/Actress. Burak only took that level of interest and inserted himself into their lives because he wanted Eda, and Eda should realize that and have a frank conversation with him. Eda doesn't even have to be cognizant that she will inevitably get back together with Serkan, she already knows she has no interest in Burak. She should tell him. And if she's already told him (which it seems she might have from her comments to Ayfer and Melo) she should put some boundaries in place because his presence was ridiculous.

It still blows my mind that this sad sack thinks he has a shot with Eda. Seriously, while the dude isn't hideous, he's also not attractive and he has the personality of dead grass coupled with the charisma of warm mayonnaise. He's not worthy of either Eda or Melo. The scene of Melo and Burak walking on the beach made me a bit uncomfortable. They're totally setting that relationship up, but so far all we see is Melo obviously harboring feelings for him as Burak broods over his Eda delusions. We'll have to see how this plays out, but I feel like Burak didn't need to be this upset over Eda for the story to work, and it would be a lot easier to root for him with Melo if by episode 5 if he wasn't still actively trying, as Engin said, to take over Serkan's family.

On to Edser and the newly forming Bolat family unit. It's funny, I'm not someone who thinks a woman needs to take her husband's last name, I think people should do whatever they want, but for whatever reason I really, really want Eda and Kiraz to have his name. Maybe because I think they all crave having people to belong to in a sense. Serkan because he was unloved and sent overseas alone at such a young age, Eda because she was an orphan, Kiraz because she didn't have a dad in early childhood. So for that reason, I really do feel like it will be meaningful to have them tied together that way as a family unit. They belong to each other now (or they will soon).

Along those lines, you say you're not sure why Kiraz isn't calling him Baba, narratively, I think it's because that will be a big milestone in their relationship. When she feels comfortable enough, connected enough, and secure enough with him to do that, it's going to melt all of our hearts right out of our chests. If she'd done it right away it wouldn't feel as special as it's going to feel when it eventually happens because she feels it (not just because it's a fact).

As for her calling him Serkan Bolat, I think it's adorable. That's how she knew him before, it would be weird if she called him anything other than that or Baba, (like Serkan or Abi) because then it would be like she was settling on that, but calling him by his full name, which is such a part of his identity, is cute and charming and pays tribute to the interactions they had before they knew of their relationship, and it's a signal that it's only temporary. Baba is coming, don't worry.

Loved Kiraz showing Serkan her room and all of her things, and really loved Eda standing there, smiling, soaking it in. I've seen a lot of criticism of Eda in this episode and she did have a few moments that were unnecessarily harsh, but I think it's also valid to give her a minute to adjust because this is a lot of change in just a couple of days. While she now knows Serkan had understandable, and even noble, reasons for what he did and said, that still doesn't erase the heartbreak and pain he put her through, or the 5 years of being a single mother and not having anyone to consult or needing to consult anyone on decisions regarding Kiraz.

I do think, though, that we didn't see Eda give him enough credit when he covered for her lies to Kiraz. When Kiraz asked her why she didn't tell her Serkan Bolat was her father and then asked him when mom didn't answer, he could have easily told the truth and thrown Eda under the bus, big time, but instead he comes up with something that passes as an explanation, doesn't make anyone a villain, but also doesn't make him look great. I wish we'd seen Eda recognize that. It was a magnanimous gesture on his part, since he and Kiraz were the ones who were lied to for 5 years.

However, her running a bit hot and cold this episode makes sense. On one hand when she's around him her heart feels that strong orbital pull towards him. She loves him. She always has loved him, she always will love him. Just like with Serkan, that will not change, and obviously didn't after heartbreak and separation. But it also makes sense that at times her head takes over and with it the fear and the memory of the pain and she freezes up a bit. It doesn't ding her or their love, she just needs time to let herself believe that this is really happening. That Serkan is back, that he still loves her, that he loves their daughter and wants to be a father and form a family. From the way she recorded those videos, how many times do we think she dreamed of them being a happy family together? I'm guessing a lot. Now it's within her grasp and I think she just needs to be sure that Serkan is for real before she fully succumbs to this dream.

She also needs to get over her pride, I'm sure there's a part of her (Ayfer's voice) telling her a woman doesn't go back to a man who hurt her that badly. But as we saw, girlfriend was snuggling with his shirt, she still has it so bad for him. But, pro tip, Eda, he wanted to stay the night, wouldn't it be so much more fulfilling to snuggle with the real thing? I promise it would... just let him in. The lawn scene was hilarious. Kerem is really and truly a gifted physical comedian. We know how tight the timelines are on this show and they don't get to do a lot of takes, but his stumbling over the furniture and falling was flawlessly done. Hande was great too... that bat! Of course the sexual tension in the robes and towel scene was magnificent. When she first walked in wearing that towell I thought my man was going to combust. That look on his face, priceless.

Speaking of priceless, what first-day Baba makes his little girl's dreams come true like Serkan Bolat does? Staying up all night to build her flying house? MY HEART!

What a fantastic first gift. It was incredibly thoughtful, it was meaningful to the two of them, and it was also Serkan giving a piece of himself (using his skills in what he does best as an architect) to her.

Absolute perfection.

And how sweet that Serkan wanted to spend the day with her alone!?! I really liked that because we all know he loves Eda, he wants Eda back, and he will use any excuse to spend time with Eda. And he could have done that here, but he doesn't. So the fact that he wanted to spend the day alone with Kiraz, clearly illustrates that his interest in Kiraz, his desire to be her father stands on it's own. Kiraz is not just an excuse to get close to Eda, he is pursuing both relationships, and they are both important to him.

Also you said that you have mixed emotions on the way Eda spied on Serkan, that she doesn't trust him, but honestly I really don't think it's about that. She might have been a little discombobulated by the idea because the man has never really spent any time with children and here he's thrust into fatherhood, but she trusts him and knows Kiraz is safe with him. Honestly, I think her biggest driving factor in following them is FOMO.

She doesn't want to miss this! She has wondered what kind of father he might be for years, and now she wants to witness it. She wants to be there and see what he's like when he's spending time with her. She also wants to be a part of it, and a part of her might be a little jealous. For years she's been the only parent, and now another parental bond is forming and it's natural she is curious what that's going to look like.

Melo even sees through her during their conversations while they're out spying. Eda pretends it's because she's worried that Serkan doesn't know what he's doing, but Melo susses out that it's really because she missed Serkan. I think she really just wanted to be a part of it.

And her ulterior motives are exposed when she reacts with jealousy over the park moms and then with Hulya. She's jealous over Serkan, but also over what it might mean if Serkan had a woman in his life that's not Eda. (Real simple way to ensure that doesn't happen, Eda, just saying). On first watch it was a little frustrating to watch Eda be upset about Huyla and not have it cleared up immediately. However, on the second time through I found it incredibly enjoyable to watch. Hilarious even. Knowing that Serkan is going to let her off the hook just a few minutes later, and it's not going to be a drawn out misunderstanding, it's very fun to watch him just totally bask in her jealousy. The way he sits there and giggles and is just so chuffed at her display was very endearing. Since he's been celibate for 5 years, I suppose he's earned an incrediulous laugh at her thinking he has all these women on the line.

Eda is not wrong to be concerned about the Bolat's ability to spoil Kiraz with material things, Aydan can get out of control, however I can't be mad at the pony. The girl asked him if he had horses the first day they met, she said she wanted a dad like Serkan who had horses, he HAD to get her one she could actually ride! The girl was deprived of her father for 5 years because both of her parents are stubborn, so, let's be real, she kinda deserves a pony. Besides Eda should be more worried about the "spoiling" she gets from her camp, where she, Ayfer, Melo and Burak let her get away with constantly running away/running wild, eating ice cream whenever she wants, being rude to strangers etc. The fact that she's taught it's okay to knock a customer's water over without apologizing is more damaging to a forming personality than a pony. (Yes, that was another dig at Burak.) The point is, spoiling isn't only about material things, and from the glimpses we've seen of Baba Serkan he's already taught her about taking responsibility (confessing to breaking the window and apologizing), being self sufficient (tying shoelaces, putting pjs on herself), and setting behavioral boundaries (don't shoot arrows at people in hotels, you shouldn't hug strangers). He's going to be a very good influence in her life, because despite growing up with material privilege the man believes in hard work, effort and personal accountability.

Anyway, loved that when Serkan told Eda about dinner with Engin/Piril/Can she looked so secretly pleased when she casually agreed to go. I think that goes hand in hand with why she was spying, she won't let herself admit it, but she so badly wants them to do things as a family. That was part of her tug o' war this episode. Wanting that, but then suddenly worrying that maybe she shouldn't want that after everything that's happened, those feelings are helped along by Ayfer's judgemental looks and comments, and Burak trying to assert his place and Eda maybe feeling guilty.

Eda's behavior at dinner perfectly summarized the war going on between her head and heart this episode. First she fights with Serkan, going so far as to tell him she hates him, but the second she gets good news she flings herself into his arms. He's the person she wants to celebrate with, he's the person she wants congratulations from. So even if she was mad at him, she can't help herself. Also thank you Engin for telling Eda how Serkan lost weight and didn't come to work for months after she left. Those are important things for her to know. Also reinforced later by Aydan.

And thank you, Jan, for planting that fear of her dad leaving again with Kiraz, because it gave us sleep over at the Bolat house. It also gave us Kiraz asking Serkan if he will leave her. A good question and I'm glad we have Serkan's promise to never leave her. Just with the way tragedy (and meddling family members and obsessed stalkers) seems to find both Eda and Serkan, it's good he's made that promise. And it's good that he knows she needs that promise.

Now onto the secret room. I suppose if you're going to keep all of that and you have a large house, then you might as well keep it in a special room. This was a huge missing piece for Eda. Something tangible that she can see with her own two eyes that proves that he never forgot her and has been pining for her since the day they parted. I thought Eda was suitably touched by it all, and the fact that he got her gifts for every birthday. Anyone else think that they're going to get married on the beach and she's going to wear those flip-flops, that white dress, and the locket when they do? That's what sprung to my mind. The Neslihan scarf product placement made me roll my eyes, though.

To be honest I really didn't care what the gifts were, all I cared about was that thank you cheek kiss. I DIE. The birthday-present-thank-you cheek kiss he gave her in 7 is one of my all time favorite scenes and this parallel was a long time coming and wonderfully executed. And then they delivered on the USTy stare off where they clearly want to make out, but they're not quite there yet. It was going to have to be Eda that broke them out of it, because up to Serkan they either kiss or he stares at her for the rest of time.

Did anyone else feel a crick in their back, neck, legs at how Eda slept on that couch? Serkan was as comfy as can be, stretched out using her legs as a pillow and her torso as a blanket, lol. I wish the editors would have given us a couple of more seconds lingering on them all contorted like that. It was too precious. It would have been sweet if they'd had Kiraz find them and watch them for a minute before waking them up. Show the parent-trapping gears turning in her mind.

Buba absolutely deserved Serkan showing up to spoil his outing. And of course both ladies instantly gravitated to Serkan. I liked this scene because it gave us over-the-top BDE Serkan, a whiff of "Drain the pool" Serkan, the comedy of Engin and Serkan doing the Cyrano thing, and the obvious little "fish" measuring metaphor. But what I really liked was Eda telling him that he didn't need to try so hard to win Kiraz, that he just had to be himself. That was important and lovely, and illustrated to him that she really did want him to develop a good relationship with Kiraz.

The best moments of the episode for them, though, came during their family stargazing outing. Loved Serkan's extra safety precautions, including the mirror just so he can see her in the backseat. Though, if he's that concerned about it, maybe a larger car, lmao? Kiraz tricking them into kissing was an auspicious start to the evening, hopefully that's a taste of things to come. I'm here for her forcing the two of them into intimate situations.

The way Serkan was looking at the two of them throughout the stargazing was something else. He was looking at them with such longing. Like he couldn't believe they were so close, but he wanted them so badly. DUDE, they are right there, continue to play your cards right (and not let Ayfer and Aydan spoil things, spoiler alert, they do) and you're just days away from having everything you want. Loved that he changed the Apollo story to give it the happy ending he wants. Hopefully, that gave hope to any doomsdayers out there that think this show is going to end in tragedy. (Spoiler alert, it's not).

The only shame is that they have that nice (if not detached from reality conversation since they pretend they're not going to be together raising Kiraz) adult conversation about cooperating and working out how they're going to deal with Aydan and Ayfer, only for things to go totally off the rails during said conversations. As I said off the top of this marathon post, it was totally unbelievable in the context of the rest of the episode, but as I always say you can't take this show too seriously, and I prefer to just enjoy the situations as they come and not get too annoyed when they take these writing shortcuts to drive the plot. I plan on very much enjoying Eda and Serkan forced to live together while they're (or at least she) is still pretending they're not going to end up together. Looks like next week is another fun romcom romp, and I'm here for it!

[hollenka99]

A God Walks Into a Temple

Summary: The Blood God is someone to be feared as much as revered. So that is why he is going to raise this baby he just met to be a soldier, definitely not for any other reason. Prologue of Blood and Feathers.

If you were to research the cultural history of piglins, perhaps one of the most prominent figures you will encounter is the Blood God. This deity can be found mentioned as far back as their records go. He likely predates any ancient literature they have. There are disputes, as with anything from that far back in history, as to his origins or his true role. Some say he is simply a war god for a race that easily become hostile. Others argue he is Death personified while a handful speculate he is specifically the patron of those who die bloody. Whatever attributes he is labelled as, be it war, bloodshed, death, chaos or vengeance, it is clear the Blood God is not an individual to be messed with. A significant piglin settlement is rarely devoid of some sort of effigy pertaining to their god, especially the ruins of old cities. A common sight is a golden statue portraying a grand piglin dressed in armour and armed with a sword, typically in a stance suggesting he is rallying his forces to fight and potentially fall in his name. The only method known to kill the Blood God is causing him fall in battle. Even then he will not be quashed for long. Within weeks, he will be reborn amongst his piglin brethren. His bloodthirsty nature will reveal itself before too long and his years of harsh yet necessary training will begin so he may lead his followers into battle once more. The last time the Blood God was defeated was centuries ago. The days of his youth in this life are faded memories. The blood that he has witnessed with these eyes alone has been enough to replace vast bodies of water. He has admired each tribute to him, dilapidated and well maintained alike, countless times. He's not even sure of the quantity that have been sacrificed in his name by this point. Functional immortality can get dull, repetitive even, with enough time. So perhaps it’s a good thing he finds himself passing an avian settlement that night. The valley is populated by a small city. The architecture is tall, practically dominated by skyscrapers. There is a temple a fair distance away at another point of the rim surrounding the place. In the darkness, he can just about make out a series of stairs leading up to it, all well lit by lamps. The local area up here is full of farmland. However, it would seem the year's harvest has been collected by now. A small gathering exit the temple. They disband with some flying home and others ushering themselves down the stairs reminiscent of defeated troops. That is the least of his concerns though, especially given his divine visitor who lands beside him with a swoop. "Well well well, this is a rare sight. Bit far from the Nether, aren't you, Blood God?" "Perhaps. And you are? Sky goddess undoubtedly but which one? There are a few of you." She gives him a thoughtful smile. From her hair, she retrieves a yellow flower which she proceeds to twirl within her fingers for a moment. "Celandine. Perhaps you are more familiar with my mother, Aderyn, the Mother of Birds." "Sure. You're all the same anyway." "Oh, is that so?" She laughs in mock offense. "Then I suppose all piglins and Netherworlders are of the same breed too." He grunts in acknowledgement that she has spoken but gives her words no further attention. Instead, he gestures towards the temple and asks "What's going on down there, some ritual?" "Ah." She gazes in the same direction as him. "Now that would be the Offering of Hatchlings. They do this every year. As you may or may not have noticed, the wind have been growing colder recently. They've gathered the year's harvest and it is time for them to temporarily migrate to a warmer climate. But, of course, they want us to ensure their journey is a successfully safe one. For whatever reason, they've convinced themselves the way to sweeten the deal is to leave two of their children that were born in the past 12 months behind for us along with other gifts. Come, I'll show you if you'd like." "Well, I got nothing better to do. Lead the way." The interior wasn't anything significant. White walls surrounded them without a ceiling. What did surprise the Blood God, however, was how there was more room to walk around than the view from outside gave the impression of. That said, the centrepiece of the room is, by far, the large sculpture that resembled a nest, filled with cushioning. Surrounding it are gifts like samples of freshly yielded crops, gems and gold ingots. Situated on top are two winged infants in white gowns that had been abandoned as part of the ritual. On the left was a girl with hair as dark as her complexion and light purple feathers that may grow richer in tone as she ages. She bawls from fresh abandonment but the empty air is yet to pay her any notice. Then to the right was her companion who was seemingly slightly older and far calmer. The boy stares up at him with blue eyes that match the gradient of his wings. He does not cry or murmur despite the ceremonial desertion of his parents or the oversized figure (even by piglin brute standards) of a god looming over him. The infant... even breaks into a tiny smile at him. "They just leave them out here? Surely there must be some parents that get attached to their child." "Oh, of course, all the time. Some see it as a great honour but others do view it as a great loss, yes." She sighs. "I have made it my vocation to watch over their community and ensure these chosen children are kept safe. I even bless them with longevity so that they may endure far into old age. There is another town far from here where I send them. There's always someone who is willing to raise a new arrival." "I see." He does not know nor understand why the notion appears in his mind. He has no reason to care about some dumb baby, especially not one who isn't even remotely the same species as him. Caring about living things isn't on brand for him either. Nah, he was more the type to make things stop living, not ensure their survival. Although... he could use this as an opportunity to raise a warrior whose skills were on par with his and those of his greatest recruits. Maybe if this experiment produces successful results, he will consider home growing armies' worth of overworlder children. Oh, who is he kidding? He simply wants a change of pace, a new experience. As far as he can recall across the spans of all his lives, he has rarely troubled himself with trivial distractions such as a family or passing his knowledge based of vast years of experience to the next generation. Who says he can't break that pattern? "What if I took this one with me, the boy?" She raises an scrutinising eyebrow. "Are you sure?" "I have lived eons. How difficult can one child be to maintain?" The incredulous look towards him persists before laughter unfurls from her mouth. She comments something about how he is setting himself up for more than a few surprises. It bears no consequence since she complies with his request regardless. As Celandine advises him on the basics like how to hold the boy and gods above, no, you cannot feed him cow's milk as to compensate for a lack of his mother's own. Shortly before the pair depart for their new life together, he is told the child's name is Phillip. He see no reason to change it.

[ohprettyweeper]

After You’re Gone

Moved from my previous fic blog.

Summary: Moving on is never as easy as they say it is. Pairing: Tyler x Reader Word Count: 1240 Warnings: Angst. The sad kind. I’ll put other ones in the tags because I don’t wanna spoil the fic. Song Inspo: You Were Meant for Me - Jewel; I was singing this song in the shower and boom fic idea. Doesn’t go exactly with the song – anyway. Enjoy the sadness. 

At six o’ clock on the dot, your alarm buzzed on the nightstand. You slapped it off, but didn’t bother with the snooze button. You had been awake off and on for the last few hours trying to get comfortable anyway, and the doctor had recommended a regular routine to get you out of the depths to which you had sunk over the last few months. That meant getting up at the same time, having the same thing for breakfast, taking the same route to and from work — all of it. Your routine would change soon enough, but while you had control over your agenda, you would manage as best you could.

The dishes from your usual pancakes and eggs rinsed off easily enough. From there it was on to brushing your teeth, wiping down the mirror and the sink, then making the short walk to work. The weather was dreary but warm, so you didn’t mind. With your keys safely in your purse and the door to your new place locked behind you, you took the steps one at a time and took a left on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it today?” your mother asked when you called her.

“Same as every day since Tyler’s been gone,” you replied flatly, nodding a thank-you to the lady at the coffee cart. “You sound out of breath, what are you doing?”

“Taking a walk. Figure I should get out more. You should too, you know. I know you went out with your brother the other day. It’s not the end, sweetheart. It’s an ending, and a new beginning.”

You licked your lips; she was going to go on one of her positive lifestyle rants soon and you weren’t in the mood. “Hey, work’s calling on the other line. I’ll check in with you tonight.”

She didn’t like it, you could tell her tone when she said goodbye. You shook your head and stuffed your phone in your bag. It had been three months, and that wasn’t really that long. Not after something like you and Tyler had came to an end the way it did.

A few blocks from the office, rain started to pour from the cloudy sky.

“Perfect,” you muttered out loud. With a groan of frustration, you pulled your hood up over your head and dropped the coffee into the nearest bin. You shouldn’t be drinking it anyway, and it would only spill during your jog to work.

“You’re soaking!” Ashley exclaimed as soon as you arrived at your cubicle. She helped you out of your jacket, though you assured her you were fine. “You should have hailed a cab.”

“It was a few blocks. What’s the point?” you shrugged. “Is the new issue out?”

Ashley nodded. “They’re already loving your article, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard. “Good. That’s good. It’s good for the magazine.”

“Editor picked some great photos from the ones you picked out. You should check it out, when you get home.”

The newest issue of Rolling Stone slapped onto your desk. You quickly shoved it into your bag; you didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to see his picture and read the words you had written about him and Josh and being part of their lives. That wasn’t reality anymore.

“Are you getting out at all?” Ashley asked quietly.

“Saw a movie the other night, with my brother. It was a comedy, but it just wasn’t — nothing’s funny right now. I’m sure it will be at some point but right now, it’s just not. I’m too sad. Almost made me miss him more. We laughed together all the time.” A smile snuck to your lips as you thought back to all the jokes and pranks and laughs for stupid reasons you had shared with Tyler. As stealthy as the memories were, the smile wasn’t strong enough to exercise facial muscles you had only forced your body to use since he had been gone.

Ashley went back to her work then, for which you were honestly grateful. Nothing anyone could say was enough or helpful anymore. You just had to work through this on your own.

You stayed through the whole work day, forcing those fake smiles and making small talk with co-workers who didn’t know you as well as Ashley and would still try to give you small tidbits of quasi-wisdom. It all sounded like bullshit that should be embroidered on a pillow or printed on t-shirts; you hated every bit of it. It wasn’t in you, however, to be rude, so you simply thanked them for their kindness and moved on.

After a light supper, you decided you would just spend the rest of the evening in bed. You brushed your teeth, put the toothpaste and toothbrush away, then decided to leave the bathroom light on, cracking the door slightly so that light still illuminated the bedroom. That with the television on in the background should help you sleep.

Since getting through the day took most of your energy and you needed a good release anyway, you pulled the new Rolling Stone issue from your bag. You settled under the comforter and against the pillows, pulling an extra one behind your back for more support.

Inside: Y/N Joseph Pays Tribute to Twenty One Pilots

You already knew the page number, so you flipped there quickly. There it was, your article recounting how you had met Tyler and Josh at a party for the magazine, quickly connected with Tyler and been married just under two years later, all the while forming a friendship with Josh that was just as strong as the one he had with Tyler. Just ahead of your article, in italics, was a foreword from the magazine. As if anyone needed a reminder or explanation for the event that had prompted your article.

In January of 2019, Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun were returning from the European leg of their tour when the plane carrying the two-man band and crew crashed in the mid-Atlantic. There were no survivors.

Instead of wiping your tears — because what was the point — you let them fall freely as you read over the final version of your article. In the interest of your own mental health and progress through the first stages of the grieving process, you had allowed your editor and Ashley to handle the final layout. They only needed a few pictures, but you couldn’t narrow it down, so they did — and they had chosen perfectly.

After you finished reading the article, you dropped the magazine on what should have been Tyler’s side of the bed. You let your head fall back so that you were staring at the ceiling, and rubbed your belly. In a couple more months, the bittersweet arrival of your first and only child with Tyler would no doubt bring you equal amounts of happiness and sadness, experiencing it all without him. Remembering that you would always have this child to remind you of the love you and Tyler had shared in those few, short years, was the one thing that kept you going anymore.

With that thought in mind, you closed your eyes and silently thanked your husband for leaving you with a small piece of him to get you through the darkest days on you would spend alone, then closed your eyes and attempted a much needed sleep.

[julia-highstorms]

Undermount series: The Heir to House Nightbloom

Chapter 1 - Shocking News

Summary: The story revolves around Luxia (my MC), who has her life turned upside down when both her parents die and she’s back to Undermount, to live with her grandfather, Sir Emrys Nightbloom, a respected scholar and private professor to the most influential houses. Now, being an outsider to the elven society, she must learn its culture and traditions and how to fit in (or not). While falling in love with the heir to the Ascendent House, Tyril Starfury.

Author’s note: I am very excited with this idea and it had been playing in my mind for a while now, so I thought “what the hell!” and I am finally posting the first chapter here! I wanted to write a couple more chapters before start posting it because I know me and it will take me 84 years to post a new chapter 🤦 but oh welp. Maybe posting it now I force myself to write more regularly? Who knows. Anyway, sorry in advance for the lateness of upcoming chapters.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Rating: T (trigger warning: death, violence)

Pairing: Tyril Starfury x Luxia Nightbloom (F!Elf!MC) - read more about them here

Word count: +1.8K

___________________

Chapter 1 - Shocking News

The young lord leaned comfortably against his favorite armchair and looked outside the window, admiring the House Starfury Gardens. 

That was one of the few moments in which he could sit down with a book in his hands and relax. Just relax.

As Tyril reached majority, more and more responsibilities were passed down to him by his father - Valir Starfury, the current Lord Starfury -, which the young man accepted proudly. Sooner or later, they knew he would inherit that duty as Valir aged and his health declined, so it was only natural that his first born child would take his place as the head of the House. 

So, those rare moments of complete peace were always welcoming to the young man. Whenever he had a spare moment in his agenda, Tyril would lock himself in his study room to read and let his imagination run free. He firmly believed that few activities could bring him such joy as reading.

But today, somehow, he was unable to do so. He tried to pick up where he had stopped in the book, but was unable to focus. So he picked his favorite map and opened it. Sometimes, when he was unable to concentrate, he liked to open the old map and study all those places he had read about. Whitetower, Port Parnasus, Flotilla… Places he was sure he would never see in real life, only in his imagination.

But that proved to be an equally unsuccessful activity. The young lord did not know why, but he was feeling restless today. 

Finally giving up after his fifth frustrated trial, Tyril decided to just relax. He watched the scene that unfolded in the house's gardens through the large windows for a few moments, the world complete serene. 

He wondered to himself why the gardener was watering the plants when it was clear that it was going to rain soon. The sky was filled with dark and low clouds.

But his thoughts were soon interrupted when Adrina stormed into the room. He turned his face to his younger sister and raised a single eyebrow, surprised by that display of rushness.

"My dear brother, I've finally found you!" - she panted out of breath, her cheeks flushed. - "You won't believe what happened!" - but even before he could ask her what indeed had happened, she spilled it in a rush of words: - "Sir Nightbloom's son and daughter-in-law are dead and his granddaughter is back to Undermount!"

___________________

A week earlier

House Nightbloom was fated to great things.

At least, that was what Emrys Nightbloom stated and firmly believed. 

Those from that house were known to be great scholars, masters of a greater magic and undying loyalty, with generations and generations of tutors and professors who dedicated their lives to teach young lords and ladies of the nobler houses, gaining status and prestige through the centuries. 

They were one of the ancient houses, but had lost their importance through the years since the Great War, when Gustaf Nightbloom decided to flee instead of staying and fighting. But as Sir Emrys himself believed, better be an alive coward than a dead hero, because those that were able to move worlds were the alive ones. And that was what the past generations of the House Nightbloom had been doing since their embarrassing display during the fatidical war. They were great strategists and were able to restore some of their previous glory through the last millennia. 

They would never be a noble house - unless one of their descendants married a noble house -, but they attended that social circle closely. 

Sir Emrys Nightbloom was its current head and a very respected professor within the elven society, having taught some of the great houses' lords himself. Such as Lord Valir of House Starfury, the current Ascendent House. And his heirs, Young Lord Tyril and Lady Adrina. By this, it was easy to presume how old he was.

But Sir Nightbloom had never been ashamed of his age. In fact, he was very proud of it. He had lived longly and greatly, and was among one of the wisest citizens of Undermount.

And being that wise, he knew that he was doomed. House Nightbloom had no direct heir.

Of course it wouldn't cease to exist, but when he died - which he was pretty sure would happen sooner than later. It didn't matter he had been saying that for the last 30 years, he knew this year he would definitely go -, the House's leadership would pass on to his younger brother, Qildor, who wasn't much younger than him, but much less… wise. His hobbies were playing card games and drinking lots and lots of elven wine. Old Emrys was worried that his brother could bring shame and dishonor to the House Nightbloom again, after all those centuries of hard work from their ascendents.

If only his only son, Kal, hadn't decided to be an adventurer and leave Undermount… Sir Nightbloom would be feeling much more secure about the House's fate.

It was a cloudy Saturday afternoon, and the old man found himself in his garden - besides teaching, Sir Nightbloom's great passion was taking care of his collection of exquisite flowers and trees -, when Siveril, the butler, came running toward him.

"Urgent news, Master Nightbloom. I'm afraid they're disturbing."

"Well then, shoot!" - he said, not taking his eyes off of his majestic yellow hibiscus.

The other man nodded and stepped closer to whisper into his ear. Sir Nightbloom's eyes widened and he even let the pruning shears he was holding fall onto the floor, as shock spreaded through his body. 

"Are you sure?" - he asked after Silveril helped him to sit down on a bench. 

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Both of them?" - the butler nodded. - "And… and… what about Luxia?" 

___________________

Everything happened in a blur.

One moment, she was laughing and talking with her parents, and the next moment, the small village they lived in, Riverbend, and their house was invaded and they were attacked by a bandit raid that took the lives of a dozen of villagers. Including her parents.

Luxia's mother promptly ordered her to hide inside the supply closet in the kitchen. She heard everything, her parents' cries as the blade slashed through their flesh, drawing out blood, while she forced herself to be as quiet as possible as they were being killed.

She crawled out of her hiding place only after she was sure that the bandits had left her house.

The young elf was found by Kade - her neighbor and childhood friend - and other villagers just hours later, after the bandits had been dealt with. The young human's parents had been killed too, but luckily, he was outside at the time of the attack.

The last two days went on a frenzy. The village's physician had examined her and stated that, although she didn't suffer physically, she was deeply traumatized. She had the vague memory of being asked if she knew about any relative she could have, and she told them about her grandfather in the elven city of Undermount, to the north. 

She still could hear their screaming ringing in her ears, and the scene she saw when she left her hiding place. She found her parents lying on the floor, both dead. There was so much blood, the furniture and walls were stained by it. Their bodies dilacerated. They were stabbed to death.

She kept staring at them, unable to move or to do anything. The neighbors' screamings and cries for help could be heard from outside as the bandits invaded other houses, but Luxia couldn't pay attention to any of it. All she could think about was that Mom and Dad were gone.

Now, two days later, she was again staring down at her parents' and other villagers' bodies. Kade's parents were among them. Luxia was lined up with the other survivors, paying their tributes to those who had lost their lives in that vicious attack.

Even though Kal's and Irin's corpses lied in front of her, covered by blankets, waiting to be buried along with others, she still felt numb and overwhelmed by all of those events. She was unable to let a single tear out.

The burial was long and painful, everyone helping and digging graves for the dead, and it took the whole day. Those who had lost their families were being taken care of by other villagers. A kind farmer took her and Kade under his protection.

She was left in one small bedroom by herself and her thoughts. The young elf lied down and tried to sleep, but she just couldn't shut her eyes. Her mind kept replaying the events of the past couple days again and again and endless questions popped up in her head.

How could that have happened? Could she have done something to save her parents? Should she have been killed with them? What was she going to do now? She had nobody. Of course, the people of Riverbend wouldn't throw her away and she knew a thing or two about medicine and cures… she could work with it.

She tossed around the narrow bed. Mom… Dad… What was she going to do? She already missed them. She felt so alone… 

And then. An idea popped up in her head. 

The girl sat up and looked over to the old desk across the room. Not thinking twice, she went over there, lighting up the candle and pulling a blank sheet of paper and a pen. And started writing.

Emrys Nightbloom. That was the name of her grandfather. She knew her father and he didn't see each other in the eye, but he was the only family she had left.

Although she had grown up in Riverbend, and she had few friends there, like Kade, they weren't her family. And she had been and would always be treated differently. Because she was an elf. Maybe, among others like her, she would feel less of an outcast. Although she didn't have much faith in it. 

Her grandfather and she were nothing but strangers, but still, she was positive that he would take care of her. He was family after all, and one thing she knew for sure was that the most important thing in the elven world was your House. Your family. So, she had to try something. 

That same night, Luxia sent away her letter. She didn't know exactly her grandfather's address, but she knew that just writing down the House's name meant something. Her father would often say that House Nightbloom had a sort of status. Hopefully, it was status enough to bring her letter to grandpa.

And so, only after three days she had sent her letter and had buried her parents, an answer from Sir Nightbloom himself arrived and he was taking her under his care.

Luxia left Riverbend that same night, taken by her grandfather's maid.

___________________

Tagging: @hellomynameisdevi @thequeenchoices @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @soft-for-drake @ohsnapitzlovehacker @melodyofgraves @sitsoncornflake @keviriass @lady-kaya-duskraven @tealtranquiltatter @vanillamaa @my-remedy-is-euphoria @choicesloversstuff @tyrils-star  @lxdy-starfury  @caaliyahxx @choicesarehard @fireycookie @sophie-summer @dalishessence @choicesficwriterscreations  (and if you’d like to be tagged, just tell me 🙂)

[sorenskyhigh]

What Would They Be Like as Your Roommates?

👮‍♂️ Daichi Sawamura 👮‍♂️

You needed help paying the bills to your apartment

Daichi needed a place to stay and had a great resume, as well as great tribute towards the contract and rules

Very early riser

Has an alarm that goes of at like 4-4:30 in the morning

I feel like Daichi would have a very simply but strict morning schedule that he keeps

He would wake up, do some sit-ups and push-ups along with some stretches and then goes for a jog

He would wear really baggy sweats and muscle shirt or long sleeved (no matter the weather)

I feel like Daichi would have such a strict morning schedule that he would stop by the same coffee shop every morning and order the same drink and breakfast sandwich

He'd eat his breakfast, shower, and then start his day when he gets back

Daichi is a very considerate person so I also feel like, when he could afford it, he would buy you your favorite drink and breakfast food from that coffee shop

He'd say it was a peace treaty for being such a good sport and putting up with his early morning routine

Daichi would 100% HARP ON YOU to work on having a healthier diet and sleep schedule

I also feel like whenever he goes for an extra jog he would always without fail, ask you if you ant to join him even if you always politely decline

Daichi probably wouldn't have time to cook very often so when you do he would be SO SO SO thankful and happy that you thought of doing something for him

Daichi has a metal baseball bat right beside his bed just in case someone breaks, change my mind

I feel like Daichi's side of the room would be SUPER organized and very well put together, just like him 😉

Daichi has an album in his photos for each team member as well as one that's just labeled 'Nekoma' and is mostly pictures of him, Suga, Asahi, Kuroo, Yaku, Bokuto, and Akaashi

Daichi talks all the time about his memories with his friends and is always showing you pictures that go along with the story or to remind you who he's talking about

Daichi would, I feel, repeat stories a lot bc he's just so proud of what they did or missed them so much ya know

Daichi has scared off a creepy teacher that has threatened to fail you if you didn't sleep with them

Daichi will 100% drop everything and come to excort you to your guys' apartment if you don't feel safe

If Daichi were to work with a K9, he would definitely show off all the things his dog can do with the proudest dad smile ever!!!

You also notice that when you two go out grocery shopping during the day if it's a week day and around lunch, he'll buy some food and take it to a silver haired friend of his from highschool

Daichi did manage to get you to take a jog with him (later in the day, not his morning one) and he smoked you

He did come back and said very up beat "Why don't we end it here for today, huh?"

You and Daichi watch really terrible horror movies and talk shit about them

When Diachi is working out at home bc it's raining or something he listens to heavy metal or R&B, you can't tell me otherwise 😤

👩‍🏫 🏫 Sugawara Koushi 🏫 👩‍🏫

Moved into the dorm first

The whole 'are-you-sure-you're-okay-we-can-totally-switch-sides' conversation

I feel like Suga wouldn't have a super organized side but its not a mess either

Just a stack of papers here, some books there and maybe clothes over there but he keeps it relatively clean

Suga has a small cactus that he named either Isako (the sand child) or Yoshino (respectful, good)

Or he named it Tsukki after Tsukishima Kei bc it's prickly but just misunderstood, and if so, he also has a marimo he named Yamaguchi to Tsukki wouldn't be lonely

Suga probably wouldn't study inside your guys' room but instead would make a couple friends and have a study group bc he misses the noise of the team 😥

But he also wants to learn how to help people with varying personalities since he's going to be a teacher

When you all study you either study in a library or outside under a tree in a circle

During winter he always has either hot chocolate or coffee for everyone just the way you each like it bc he remembers those things

Suga also knows your birthday, anyone in your family that you're really close to's birthdays, and he probably knows your parents/guardians anniversaries

Disney 👏 movie 👏 marathons 👏 with 👏 blankets 👏 and 👏 snacks 👏

Suga only shares the plethora of snacks he hides in your room or he steals from the cafeteria with you when you two are hanging out in your room, sometime Daichi and his housemate join

Suga would help you choose and outfit for a date or interview and would be aggressively hyping you up the entire time

Suga definitely helps you with any family or relationship issues you have (he may go out and threaten/kill your exes)

Suga always walks everyone back to their rooms after a long study session if they live ilon campus. If they don't he asks them to text him when they get home so he knows their safe

Group 👏 Lunches 👏

You all always eat together and Suga goes with you to get everyone's food orders

Suga has a small chest of flash drives that are F.U.L.L. of pictures of his old teammates all the way back to his first year in highschool. He also has some videos stored in there and is always taking pictures

Suga wants to remember EVERYTHING

He's the reason why Daichi has so many photos bc he sends them to him

When Suga starts interning he always come home with the biggest grin

He loves spending time with the kids and will tell you stories about them all the time

You went to visit him during his break and all the kids were on him like white on rice

The kids loved him but he definitely wasn't a pushover

Those kids were well behaved because of him 👌

Whenever you'd visit him on his break, Daichi is always there already and brought him lunch

The kids have picked up on the energy that those two are dropping and LOVE Daichi, they think he's so cool 😎

I want to continue this with more characters and I plan on doing a 'They help you build gingerbread houses.'

So if you want me to continue this and act on the other idea let me know 😁

@popcorntime-doodles @multifandombrainrot

@vaniatslover

[creepingsharia]

Families of service members killed, wounded by Saudi jihad mass shooting at Florida Naval Air Station file lawsuit

Pensacola Navy base mass shooter had accomplices, help from Saudi Arabia, victims claim in terror lawsuit

Families of three slain U.S. service members and 13 others wounded in a mass shooting at Naval Air Station Pensacola in 2019 alleged Monday that the government of Saudi Arabia facilitated the attack that U.S. authorities concluded was an act of international terrorism.

A 152-page complaint in federal court in Pensacola makes startling new allegations that the shooter, Royal Saudi Air Force 2nd Lt. Ahmed Mohammed al-Shamrani, executed the attack with the support of “accomplices.” Those included fellow Saudi air force trainees, who he told of his plans at a dinner the night before and during a November visit to the 9/11 memorial in New York City to pay tribute to the hijackers, the plaintiffs alleged.

Al-Shamrani, who was killed by responding sheriff’s deputies, worked with al-Qaeda of the Arabian Peninsula for five years to plan the Dec. 6, 2019, attack, U.S. authorities said last May after de-encrypting his phone.

The families also accused the Trump administration and Saudi government of reneging on pledges of support for families.

“In the eyes of the American people, there is no greater betrayal than the realization that a purported ally is, in fact, an enemy, “ the lawsuit asserts. It seeks damages for an attack the families say was caused by Saudi Arabia and its willful or grossly negligent acts in sending a terrorist operative “Trojan horse” into a U.S. program to train pilots flying billions of dollars of U.S.-sold warplanes.

“I think they knew he was out to destroy the American people, and he was a terrorist. Innocent lives were loss. It should have never happened,” said Evelyn Brady, a 20-year Navy veteran whose son, Airman Apprentice Mohammed Haitham, 19, was killed while running unarmed toward the shooter with his hands up, pleading with him to stop.

“They were supposed to take care of the families. … They’ve done nothing,” said Brady, who is represented with other plaintiffs by law firms led by Kreindler & Kreindler, which is also suing the kingdom on behalf of 9/11 victims and survivors.

A U.S.-based attorney for the Saudi government and spokesman for the Saudi Embassy in Washington did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

The lawsuit comes as U.S.-Saudi relations have fallen to a new low since January, with the new Biden administration canceling arms sales, criticizing human rights abuses and the harassment of dissidents and pledging to “recalibrate” ties with the kingdom and its de facto ruler, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.

The administration has said it will continue arms sales to the world’s biggest customer for U.S. weapons and signaled that it wants to continue a strong counterterrorism partnership.

But it is also expected to make public as early as this week a long-sought U.S. intelligence report concluding that the crown prince ordered the 2018 killing of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, and to press Riyadh to end its war in Yemen and to moderate their own extremism.

A State Department spokesman said it declined to comment on pending litigation, but the Pensacola families’ allegations further complicate U.S.-Saudi ties. There are also pending federal lawsuits against the prince and other Saudis by Khashoggi’s fiancee and by a former top Saudi intelligence officer and close U.S. intelligence ally now living in Canada who claims he was also targeted for assassination.

Saudi Arabia has been frequently targeted by terrorist groups, including al-Qaeda, which carried out large-scale attacks beginning in 2003, and more recently by assailants sympathetic to the Islamic State group. Attacks have been directed at government facilities, Westerners stationed in the kingdom and members of Saudi Arabia’s Shiite minority, who are considered heretics by hard-line Sunni Muslims.

In January 2020, then-Attorney General William P. Barr announced that the 15-minute rampage at the Florida base was an act of terrorism, with the FBI concluding that  Shamrani was motivated by “jihadist ideology.”

Barr and aides said that while it was initially reported that Shamrani arrived at the shooting site with others, who filmed it, he in fact arrived alone and that the investigation had not found evidence that anyone else acted with him.

Barr said 21 cadets from Saudi Arabia, including 12 from the Pensacola base, were disenrolled from their training and would be returning to the kingdom after U.S. officials said they found evidence that 17 Saudis had shared Islamist or anti-American material through social media. Fifteen — including some of those who had shared anti-American material — were found to have had contact with or possessed child pornography.

Barr said U.S. attorneys had reviewed each case and determined that such people would not normally be charged with federal crimes.

The families’ Pensacola lawsuit makes more specific allegations. They claim that Saudi authorities knew of the radicalization and anti-American and anti-Jewish statements of  Shamrani — an al-Qaeda operative who made his first contact with al-Qaeda of the Arabian Peninsula by at least 2015 — which he shared via Twitter.

Shamrani was nevertheless one of two out of hundreds of students in his Royal Saudi Air Force Academy class awarded a scholarship to enter a joint military training program in the United States, the suit asserts.

It also claims that the Saudi commanding officer on base and 11 other trainees it did not name knew that Shamrani purchased and stored a 9mm handgun and ammunition on base in violation of U.S. and Saudi policy; and that Saudi officials left the commanding officer’s post unfilled from September 2019 until after the shooting.

“None of the Royal Saudi Air Force trainees at the scene of the attack reported  Shamrani’s behavior nor did they try to stop the NAS Terrorist Attack, because they supported it,” the suit asserts.

On Sept. 11, Shamrani posted a message on social media saying, “The countdown has begun,” and later that month sent a copy of his will to AQAP purporting to explain the coming attack, the suit alleges. That Thanksgiving weekend, the suit said, al-Shamrani visited the memorial in New York City to those killed in the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, in which 15 of 19 hijackers were Saudi nationals.

Read the lawsuit here

The suit alleges that during the visit, the trainees “discussed the plans for the NAS Pensacola Terrorist Attack.” It also asserts that on Dec. 5, the night before the attack,  Shamrani hosted a dinner party for fellow trainees at which he screened videos of mass shootings and discussed his plans for the next day.

At least three trainees who attended the dinner called in sick the next morning, one of whom stood outside the building and recorded the shooting on his cellphone while two others watched from a nearby car, the suit claims.

That so many trainees were at least sympathetic to al-Qaeda and that several were “actually accomplices” demonstrates their belief that their extremist views “were in furtherance of [the kingdom’s] political and religious goals,” the suit claims.

Killed in the attack were Ensign Joshua Kaleb Watson, 23, of Enterprise, Ala., a recent Naval Academy graduate; Haitham, of St. Petersburg, Fla,; and Airman Apprentice Cameron Walters, 21, of Bryan County, Ga., days removed from boot camp and serving his first day on watch duty, who Shamrani approached from behind and shot in the back of the head.

Four Navy service members, a Navy civil servant, seven sheriff’s deputies and a Department of Defense police officer wounded in the attack also joined the suit. Two are partially disabled for life, including Airman George Johnson, 26, and Jessica Pickett, 20. Johnson, a single parent who now must use a cane, was hit seven times, including one bullet that was blocked by a metal “I love you” card from his mother in his wallet. Pickett, a Navy veteran and civilian employee, was struck nine times and has a metal rod in her left leg, a gap in her femur and requires a walker or wheelchair.

After expressing terrorist views for two years before being chosen for a coveted slot, training overseas to become a pilot, “An officer in their uniform murdered three Americans,” said Walters’s father, Shane Walters, 47, a former Navy F-18 Hornet mechanic and sales team manager at Gulfstream Aerospace.

“Why? How did he get here? They had to have known. … It’s shameful,” Walters said.

Walters condemned the Trump administration for failing to prioritize “dealing face-to-face” with the Saudis over the attacks. He also rebuked former president Donald Trump and the Saudi royal family for never personally speaking with the families of the killed or wounded U.S. service members.

The Trump administration was preoccupied with striking new arms and diplomatic deals and coddled Saudi Arabia “in a way no president ever has. I don’t think my son’s murder, or Mo’s murder, or Joshua’s murder, was a top priority,” Walters said.

The suit asserted that, adding “insult to injury,” Saudi Arabia has ignored or rebuked all attempts to discuss the families’ claims, as it purportedly promised in exchange for the U.S. allowing Saudi officers at Pensacola to immediately return home rather than face further investigation.

The suit cited then-President Trump saying to reporters after a phone call with King Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud: “The king will be involved in taking care of the families and loved ones. …  likewise the crown prince. They are devastated by what took place in Pensacola. And I think they are going to help out the families very greatly.”

However, neither the U.S. government nor the kingdom of Saudi Arabia “contacted my family or talked to the other families,” Walters said. After the attacks, representatives of his son’s last private employer came to Walters’s home to give him two challenge coins from the vice president, Walters said, “one for me and one for my wife. They couldn’t do it themselves.”

Foreign governments and leaders  are typically immune from civil suits in U.S. courts while in office. However, the lawsuit cited exceptions for terrorism and for victims of Saudi Arabia. It also cited a 1991 law called the Torture Victim Protection Act which provides recourse in U.S. courts for violations of international law and for victims of “flagrant human rights violations,” including torture and summary execution abroad.

[ghostofgnasha]

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

A wise Opradush never kept all their Nyarlagroth eggs in one nest thus it was no surprise that the Gumm-Gumm army were frequently spread over vast distances with Generals entrusted with the upkeep and to carry out given orders. This continent of land they called home was a vast one and while the churning seas were impossible to tread by any of their numbers, their race had more than enough patience to march the long way to find all the nooks and crannies fellow trolls tried to hide in when they attempted to refused to pay tribute or make themselves useful in serving their Warlord who protected all of their kind. Warriors could be lost during travel, battle or even sickness which made keeping their numbers healthy important and Gnasha was the type that should respect be served and the signs true, chances would always be offered. Why waste the energy razing to make a point unless it was absolutely necessary? Sometimes a bit of careful nudging would be all that was needed to bring them into line or even provide unexpected boons.

Any stupid enough to claim any of this was done out of softness would be relieved of their heads before their words were finished.

With the latest rise of Klokaron’s might the ruz begin to rise grumpily from their slumber having not particularly enjoyed this particular General’s keenness to abuse every drop of light while it was in their favour. While they were ready to depart immediately, as long as their dawdling did not interfere with their duties they could allow it as it would be ignorant to assume all were carved from the same stone after all just meant some were a poor fit to be under their leadership…. Though if they burned much more Kloka it would be a very different story, there had already been one accident occur almost a season ago and a second was not impossible. Still if they were starting to get restless perhaps an alternative for them to sink teeth into may be wiser and could there any greater joy in hunting for fresher meat after a diet consisting largely of deer and bear for the past fortnight? Stragglers found on the roads were rare and through their status they took priority on the prime food source, this was likely an overdue turn.

Thumping their tail to gain attention with the minimal of noise they watch over the party of seven who swiftly scrabble to attention saluting with the hand not holding a weapon.

“Tell the walkers to gather our supplies, we move out to follow a trail that has presented it’s self upon the bramla. If they are slow do not harry them, they have not been trained in the ways we have and should not be treated as such,” they say with a snort, gold eyeing one in particular who had touched the line though had yet to cross it. Lucky for them.

“They are with us until I choose otherwise but I do not expect any further dawdling than you have already cost us. Dismissed.”

The lot of them scatter like rabbits eager to get moving as much as not wanting to cause any further annoyance proving exactly why none of these will ever stretch beyond their station here, it was simply beyond their ability. At least they are not left waiting long and the march can begin with Gnasha at their head choosing a route that coasts the treeline to give their tag-alongs cover should it be required and would help break up the silhouettes if any if the watch’s the fleshbags sometimes employed carried torches of flame or mystery lights. There would often be an issue with the creatures called dogs being a noisy nuisance though they are wrapped in a reasonably edible form and ill suited with dealing with the issue of roaming trolls.

When checked again the scent whispered that they were not far and behind them they can hear how the nearest were already itching for the tantalising glimpses that lay ahead in in little shelters made of wood and stone where they were perfectly exposed to all and sundry.

What a pity

Knowing the temptation to break rank risked getting the better of the ruz if they wait much longer they order them to attention immediately then send the walkers into the trees where they are to stand by until given the signal to join them for fleshbag or not until they were certain of the safety of the area lest an ambush be waiting. Despite the grumbling from the weaker members of their party a glare quickly sets them right with the reminder that insubordination would be acceptable by no one. Quickly they take their things and melt back into the shadows where it would be impossible for those without the gift to see them. With another thump of their tail, they descend onto fours to help mask their much larger build and launch straight into a charge as eager as the rest for the soon to be carnage and oh what one it would be!

Foolish things that they were no alarm could be sounded for their watch had retired to bed early much like the rest had expecting a quieter night and by the time the dogs started to raise the alarm the village was already filled with hungry trolls with even more coming when the bellow is sounded. The death trap is further emphasised by the screaming of those snatched from their beds or farm tools wielded in a poor attempt to drive them back shattering upon stone and the sobbing tears. With such easy pickings it is rather tame prey for their liking but it would at least keep the lot of them sated for a good while and not a trace would be le-

The General lifts their head with a maw well-stained catching a fleeting glimpse of one of the small ones bolting beyond the walls likely hoping to be spared. Flashing a grin they tilt their head left, right, left again as though counting before perusing this little thing with such an incredibly indulgent gait that it gives it more than an ample opportunity to escape for it’s daring. By intention or not they only becoming more delighted each time it looks back in terror until it finally is able to dive into the now unguarded woods and the visual is lost. With a long hummed sound as they approach their movements become more akin to a languid cat in how they sniff the air curiously pretending to truly have no idea where it had fled. The mystery of whether it would chose to run or to hide intrigues so they decide to play with it a little more by aimlessly wandering or deliberately rustling branches above as if to shake them of their spot. The act is kept up perhaps too long but they felt in too good a mood not to.

“Such a clever little rodent,” they say with an almost sing-song tone while slinking it’s direction.

Finally they zero in on it’s hiding place and press their armoured snout against the trunk that hid the child given away easily by how with each draw of breath spoke so or the noisy whimpering. How easy it would be to simply rip the trunk aside and pluck them from the splintered remains like that of fleshy fruit that had turned just ripe but they decide they shall not do so, instead they give it a chance to choose a fate it felt most fitting to have... With a little incentive of course. A pair of claws begin to scrape erratically down the bark far higher up while wondering if it would decide to leap straight into their jaws or would it manage to hold it’s nerve as the sound grows ever closer and closer to the tiny hole that must have been used to squeeze inside?

 Click

 Crack

 Click

 Crack

 Hm.

The boy is left alone.

[thegreenfairy13]

We Only Come Here To Sleep

A new Gobblepot fic cause I need to do something on the weekend. 

Summary: Three infants have been murdered and their bodies have been found at various places in Gotham City. The public, as well as the mob, want to see a culprit for different reasons. After everything Jim Gordon has been through, one wouldn't think an ordinary case would take its toll on him. But it does.

Read the first chapter on Ao3 or here: 

In the end, it wasn’t one of the Riddler’s elaborate schemes, or one of the Joker’s ludicrous plans. It wasn’t Bruce Wayne and his determination to become a vigilante, or even the Penguin and his golden empire of crime. In the end, it was a usual case, an ordinary crime that did James Gordon in.

Gotham City seems to know only two seasons. Through most of the year, there’s an icy wind sweeping through the city, biting into the grim faces of her inhabitants. Most of her days are dark, giving the impression of an endless night.

But then comes the summer. And for a few weeks, Gotham will be tinged with yellow. But it won’t be a bright summer showing off clear skies painting the city with gentle colors. No, it will be harsh and brutal - like everything in this godforsaken city.

The sun will be beating down, baking pavements and glass-facades until each breath in the overheated air will be painful, until each step will be a battle. And the light! It’s never a bright yellow, but a color reminiscent of piss. It suits this pain-filled place, though.

Jim Gordon curses under his breath as exists his car. When putting his feet on the ground, his soles practically fuse with the ground. A wave of hot air hits his chest, and Jim can instantly feel the sweat covering his chest, causing his shirt to cling uncomfortably to his upper-body. Reaching for his sunglasses, he gestures for Harvey to follow him.

The heavier man pulls a face when being ordered to leave the chilled cocoon of his car. Jim ignores him. Sighing heavily, he nods towards the other officers already crowding the scenery.

Despite the buzz, he feels alone. Out here, Gotham is at her worst. For miles and miles, there’s nothing to see but the grey of the concrete and colorless sand. It’s a place where people disappear in the filthy water never to return again. Jim is certain his colleagues will lay him to rest out here one day in the future - he wouldn’t blame them.  

After taking a few more hesitant steps, Jim hears the sand crunching beneath his shoes. If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could easily pretend to be somewhere else. At a proper beach maybe, under a benevolent sky. Instead, he thinks how annoying it will be to get the sand out of his shoes.

“Where exactly are we?” Harvey asks with a slight growl, startling Jim.

Jim tilts his head. He contemplates giving his partner a snarky reply but thinks better of it. So instead of pointing out that he didn’t spend the car-ride blindfolded and handcuffed, he explains, “Common ground.”

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Harvey tilts his head. “That’s bad.”

Jim doesn’t reply, simply grits his teeth. ‘That’s bad’ doesn’t even start to cover how bad this could be.

One of the younger officers picks up on their conversation. Confusion written all over his face, he addresses Harvey. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Huffing out a humorless laugh, the experienced cop indulges the lad. “That’s the land between the turfs.” Pointing across the river, he elaborates, “That’s the Valeska turf.” He turns slightly to the right, “The Siren’s oasis.” Making a full turn, he points vaguely in the direction Jim is standing, “Tetch’s outdoor amusement park for the hopelessly lunatic, right beside the Scarecrow’s House of Horror.”  

At last, he circles his partner fully. “The Narrows,” he says then, ignoring the slight pang of pain on Jim’s face deliberately. “None other than the Queen rules this shitty piece of the city.”

Taking a deep breath, he finishes his quick initiation to Gotham’s inofficial districts. “But they all pay their tribute to the Penguin.”  Adjusting his sweat-sodden fedora, Bullock spits on the ground. “And this crap place? That’s no one’s ground. If a body is being dropped here , the rogues passed their judgment. Together.”

The young police-man gulps. He stares at Bullock and then back at the riverbank where the coroner is already busy taking samples. “So they…?”

Pushing the lad aside, Jim steps forward. “So if a body ends up here without permission here, that means the mob will interfere,” he states grimly.

Approaching the riverbank, the Commissioner finally takes a good look at the corpse before him. Despite all the horrors Jim had been through before, nothing could have been able to prepare him for the sight before him.

For a long moment, he merely stares, unmoving. He has seen corpses before, has been the cause of untimely deaths more times than he’d like to admit, but this is new.

No, in fact, it isn’t. Jim has been confronted with this kind of death before, has tried his very best to suppress that memory as best as he can, but given the context, this is new .

Looking up, he nods for the coroner to start elaborating. Never before has Jim missed the previous forensic, Edward Nygma, as much as this very second. For once, he wishes for someone to wrap up harsh truths in distracting riddles. Jim would give up his year’s salary and then some, if the forensic would give his mind an opportunity to wander off, to focus on something else than the task at hand.

What he gets, though, are simple facts. “Infant. Male. Probably not more than a couple of days old. Maybe not even that. Probably strangled. No severe trauma,” he rattles on, unfazed by the tiny body lying on the dirty ground. Maybe she hardens you to this point.

A baby. Just a little, innocent baby. Jim can hardly breathe as he stares down at what has been a living being, if only for a few hours. His skin is already peeling off due to the merciless heat, turning black and blue beneath Gotham’s sun. Jim wonders if it was rosy, once. He stares down, unable to look away, takes in the little knobs of fat on its upper arms and legs, and tries to suppress a sob.

Somebody should hold this little thing in their arms. It should still be alive, making happy noises, as one gently pinches those tiny rolls of fat. It should squeal with delight, and only cry if it’s hungry.

At last, Jim has to turn away. This is not right. Nobody should discard a child as if it was trash. Especially not here, at this godforsaken place.

His fingers itch to pick up the small body, to hold it, if only for a moment, the way it deserves. In another life, he would know exactly how to go about it. He and Lee would have awaited their child’s arrival with excitement. Would have picked out a crib, toys, rompers, and books, maybe. They would have laid in bed, Jim’s hand on Lee’s belly, waiting for their kid to move, knowing full-well it’s still shielded from this city, from her .

This reality never happened, though. Will probably never happen to Jim, for he doesn’t deserve such happiness, he knows that. But still. It’s unfair. This infant lies there on the ground, discarded like trash, and it’s everything someone like Jim has ever wished for.

He bends down, almost touches the tiny cheek before remembering he’s still a cop. Swallowing heavily, he disguises the motion by wiping the sweat from his forehead.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder. “You alright, partner?” Harvey asks quietly enough that nobody else hears them.

Jim’s chest constricts, he has trouble taking a breath, and still, his jaw is set tight. Nobody but Harvey would ever catch on, would note that anything was wrong. Jim is thankful for the warm hand, the solid weight on his shoulder. He’s grounding him in his pain, forcing him back to reality, when all he wants to do is float away and wallow in his grief.

“Of course I am,” he replies, a tad bit too quickly.

Harvey arches an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t reply. This is neither the place nor the time anyway.

“Won’t you finally pack up the evidence?” he snaps when the coroner gives them both a look that is too curious for Harvey’s taste. The coroner squints in disdain, but does what he’s told. After all, Bullock has a natural authority to him, he’s a character only Jim questioned successfully so far, and today, he’s glad for it.

They get back into their car, where it’s cold and sterile and death is but a memory at a riverbank. He blinks as he tries to wrap his head around what he just saw: an entire life, wasted in the sand. Neither of them talks as Harvey drives back to the city, back to the living.

Finally, Harvey glances over at Jim, now and then beating nervously the devil’s tattoo on the steering wheel. “That’s the third,” he whispers.

“I know,” Jim replies. He’s too exhausted to say anything else. Over the course of the last three weeks, they found three dead infants. All scattered around the city. The first two had been siblings according to their DNA-analysis. Jim wouldn’t be surprised if the third one is related to them, too.

“You want me to drop you off at the weasel’s place?” Harvey asks, and Jim flinches.

“What am I supposed to do there?”

The other man shrugs. “We found it on Common Ground.”

Jim hums in agreement. “Doesn’t look like a mob-job, though.”

Tilting his head, Harvey acknowledges the statement. “He could still know something,” he states petulantly and both men know he’s reaching for straws there.

“This case is getting to you,” he adds after a moment. Jim rolls his eyes but can’t find it in him to disagree. “You could at least get a free drink.”

The blonde snorts. “I think I’m outta favors.”

Harvey scratches his chin. “Still. Maybe one of his goons has seen something.” He clears his throat, looks over at Jim. “And it wouldn’t hurt for you to let off some steam. You always seem to be better off after pushing the Penguin around for a while.”

Jim sputters. “That’s not true!” he protests.

Holding up his hand, Harvey interrupts him. “It is. Go there. See what he knows, rough him up, arrest one or two thugs. You’ll feel better.”

Horrified, Jim stares at his partner’s face. “You make it sound like I’m harassing an innocent citizen for nothing. You’re still aware we’re talking about the Penguin?”

Harvey snorts in response. “That’s exactly why I’m suggesting.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Not accusing , just to be clear.”

Jim falls silent as he clenches his fists. He’s so damn tired, he doesn’t even want to put up a fight.

“He’ll find out anyway,” he demurs. “And he’ll want answers. You don’t simply drop off a body at the riverbank and expect Cobblepot to keep his hooked nose outta your business.”

“This is a police investigation,” Jim snaps back, unfazed, and Harvey’s jaw drops.

“Even after becoming the Commissioner, you still sound like a petulant rookie on some days.

Leaning back against the seat, Jim closes his eyes. Even before today, he had been exhausted to the point of not being able to sleep properly for weeks. This city just won’t let him.

And now there’s a body on Common Ground.

This city doesn’t seem to rest when it comes to her sinisterness. If Gotham doesn’t want to swallow her entire population whole, she now goes for her most vulnerable inhabitants. Jim wishes he could for once simply search for stolen paintings or chase a burglar. But no, there’s always something bigger, or something more diabolical lurking in the shadows.

Jim’s shoulders slump as he gives in. “Let’s do the paperwork first,” he suggests, cause he’s still the commissioner. “And then we’ll inform the Penguin like the good, little cops we are.”

[marjanefan]

The Devil of Christmas and the 1970s. A Dark Nostalgia

’The Devil of Christmas’ is much respected among fans of the show ‘Inside No.9’for being an affectionate pastiche of a certain sort of 1970’s television show, a meticulous recreation of how these shows were filmed , and for a particularly dark pay off. Pemberton and Shearsmith grew up watching the type of shows it pastiches and the episode makes their affection for them clear . They credit shows such as ‘Armchair theatre’, ‘ Beasts’ and especially ‘ Tales of the unexpected’ with inspiring them to work in the anthology format. The episode manages to be a knowing and humorous tribute to these shows. But it also subtly passes comment on the attitudes of the programmes and those who made them.

The episode is directed by Graham Harper, who in a long TV career has directed episodes of both ‘classic’ and ‘new’ Dr. Who. Derek Jacobi (who voices Dennis Fulcher) and Rula Lenska who appears as Celia /Nancy both worked extensively on television during this period. Adam Tandy, the show’s producer had worked as a child actor during this period and he discussed his experiences in the audio commentary with Pemberton and Shearsmith. So this would have been a nostalgic experience for quite a few people involved in the making of the episode (apparently the crew also enjoyed dressing up in 70s styles for the closing scenes).

This review will contain extensive spoilers so only continue if you have watched the episode

Nostaliga for the past is always a two edged thing.. We risk overlooking the problematic aspects of periods such as the 1970s when we look back too cosily. The show 'Life on Mars' took apart the culture of sexism, racism and toxic masiculinty of the 1970s as portrayed in shows as 'The Sweeney' while making us cheer the politically incorrect antics of Gene Hunt. This blog post does an excellent job (far better than I can) of illustrating how the ostensible story we are watching in ‘The Devil of Christmas’ comments on the casual misogyny of 1970’s television drama. It also makes an important observation about how Dennis Fulcher’s attitude toward the violence inflicted on the female star of the episode can be shown to fit in what we have learnt in recent years about the abuse of young women within the television industry of this time.

https://dodoswords.wordpress.com/2017/01/05/inside-no-9-review-series-three-the-devil-of-christmas/

In the commentary on this episode Pemberton and Shearsmith commented on the fact that the type of television programs ‘The Devil of Christmas’ pastiches regularly used the trope of a wife/husband deliberately brining about the mental collapse of their spouse or driving them to their deaths. It is interesting that this particular trope became popular during this period of societal change. Women would make greater use of liberalised divorce laws and begin to assert their right to pursue professional careers. The trope spoke to men’s anxieties about women becoming more assertive and empowered. It is worth noting the 1970s television series Derek Jacobi is most associated with ‘I, Claudius’ had several scheming unfaithful female characters, most of whom were young and attractive, who often met nasty ends, rather like ‘Kathy’ does in this episode . It’s problematic portrayal of women has been a subject of academic discussion.

‘Kathy’ is set up as a bad woman. She is a disloyal wife and stepmother. She is shown to be a gold digger who deliberately causes the death of her husband and who hates her young stepson. She is also unfaithful and is unashamed about carrying another man’s child. The audience of ‘The Devil of Christmas’ would obviously approve of and enjoy her eventual punishment. But Penny, an innocent young actress, suffers for Kathy’s ‘crimes’.

Elizabeth, Julian’ first wife is set up as the ‘good’ wife . Tellingly she is already dead (in misogyny the best sort of woman). Celia, Julian’s mother is suspicious of Kathy’s intentions and tries to warn Julian to no avail. The two women of the piece must be in conflict with each other as no solidarity or sympathy must be allowed between women. Dennis Fulcher expresses his frustration that Nancy, the actress who played Celia would not wear glasses (arguing they were not right for the character) meaning she more than once missed her mark. While Dennis is somewhat dismissive of Nancy , it is worth considering she wanted to appear glamorous as Celia and refused to wear glasses because she was afraid that being older woman and no longer physically attractive would have a detrimental effect on her career. (I wonder what memories of being a young actress in this period must have brought up for Rula Lenska)

Dennis comments on his commentary that he has ‘Kathy’ be pregnant as it would ‘tee up the ending if you sensed there was something inside Kathy making it more poignant’. This speaks to both men’s fear and envy of women’s reproductive capacity (and their desire to control it). Penny is also dressed in white for the final scenes, ironically the colour of supposed innocence given ‘Kathy’ s actions. This heightens the impact of her appearance as a sacrificial victim in the final seconds.

For me personally one the most shocking moments in the episode is when Julian hits Kathy. The audience can see that the hit is filmed is such a way that Brian (who plays Julian) does not actually hit Penny (who plays Kathy). The moment is plays into the pastiche of 1970s television as we can see that it is obviously fake. But the casual act of domestic violence shows how it was written off and normalised in this period (not that things are much better today). It is also shocking coming from a character like Julian who is otherwise portrayed sympathetically. It also happens in front of a child (both in the story and filming). Dennis also directs Brian to play the moment more angrily.

Of course the horrific conclusion of the episode with its very real violence and Penny’s absolute terror as she realises her fate. She actually cries ‘Dennis’ in her final seconds pleading with him to save her. The over the top acting of the rest of the episode is suddenly horribly recontextualised. The very artifice of episode stands in stark contrast and almost as a mockery beside this final act of violence. The pride Dennis takes in this particular moment and Penny’s ‘genuine fear’ is truly blood chilling. As WeeLin noted in her analysis of the episode what does it say about Dennis’ exposure to and involvement in ’Snuff’ that he says ‘In it’s defence, it was one of the better ones’ (it is also hinted this may not have been the only ‘snuff’ film he directed). He cannot bring himself to watch Penny’s murder, refusing to accept his role in enabling it, and moans ‘ but If only I’d got Gummidge’ more concerned about his career than the brutal killing of a young woman.

There is another narrative from the 1970s. This was the period of second wave feminism and the women’s liberation movement. Feminists set up rape crisis lines and women’s shelters and highlighted the issue of violence against women and girls. They also critiqued the way women were portrayed in the media. They helped critique and call out the attitudes toward women that ‘The Devil of Christmas’ lampoons.

It is worth looking briefly at how second wave feminists reacted to the film ‘Snuff’ itself. The original film ‘Snuff’ was a grindhouse film that was released in early 1976 (about a year before ‘The Devil of Christmas ‘was set). The female lead character Terry London (who apparently gets killed at the end) was pregnant like Kathy in ‘The Devil of Christmas’. It also ends with the crew apparently killing the female lead. (information from the Wikipedia page for the film). While it was very obviously a hoax it caused a considerable amount of controversy. Andrea Dworkin and other feminists would lead protests against it in New York and it would lead to the formation of the group ‘Women against violence against women’. The supposed existence of ‘snuff’ films would be brought up feminists like Dworkin in their campaign against pornography over the next few years.

Mary Daly in her book ‘Gyn/Ecology’ discusses the original film ‘ Snuff’ and discusses the men who enjoyed films like it. She states ‘This type of entertainment is enjoyed by judges, physicians, police, physicians, and other professionals today in the line of ‘duty’, when women who have been victimised (rape victims, for example ) come under their power ‘ [Mary Daly Gyn /Ecology, Woman’s Press, 1979]. Daly points out that not just that the most respected and powerful men in society enjoy these types of portrayals of violence against women but it informs their treatment of the vulnerable women in their power. Daly links the attitudes of these men toward women to the misogyny of the male witch finders of the past in the following paragraph. So there is an argument to link the way ‘The Devil of Christmas’ examines and subtly calls out the misogyny of its time to the way ‘The Trial of Elizabeth Gage’ examines the misogyny that underlay the seventeenth century witch trials .

While Dworkin, Daly and others have been mocked and decried for their apparent gullibility in believing in the existence of snuff as a genre, this loses sight of a wider point. They were correct in pinpointing the misogynistic attitudes that underlay the original ‘Snuff’ film and films that came in its wake. They were also correct in their calling out of the mistreatment of women in the adult entertainment industry, which was rapidly growing in the 1970s. But as we have discovered with the #metoo movement and the Weinstein scandal the entertainment industry has been rife with male abusers.

Dennis expresses casual surprise that this dark piece from his past eventually surfaced, almost as if being involved in a woman’s murder was a minor thing in his life. Many of the men who were investigated by investigations such as Operation Yewtree obviously did not expect to be called to account for their crimes. We have only in recent years started to look honestly at the abuses of this period. With that we have had to evalate the media of this period to. It may have taken almost forty years but Dennis Fulcher is finally made to account for his role in Penny’s murder. His is not the final voice we hear in the episode but the detective investigating him.

[juniebjoneswrites]

Bring Me Home // Harry Styles

Acceptance (1)

My eyes are closed and my whole body is tingling like I left it for too long in a nightmare and it's finally waking up slow and groggy.  I'm surrounded suddenly by cold winter air as a door opens. Someone in the distance calls my name but I can't dig myself back up to reach them. My toes wiggle and dance with the dirt in my sandals and I reach for that feeling. My arms cover my chest, stopping the cold from hitting my wet bathing suit and I can't help but wonder if this is what he felt like, it must have been cold. Wet and cold, with the ocean spraying sand and foam.

"June?" My eyes flutter open. The broken, fluorescent bulbs of a gas station throw sickly, yellowing shadows over my sister. I look around and the only door I'm in front of is the freezer section. The frozen single-serve pizzas are staring back at me sadly.

I look down at her hands and see the Powerade she grabbed, bags of chips, and a gallon of water. "I'm back," I say slowly. I grab the water, becoming fully aware of my cottonmouth. Taking big gulps I think of my brief and tragic winter vaca hallucination and remember it was definitely summer. Guzzling this water as if it were from the Tuck Everlasting spring itself and I'd live forever, I glance at the aisle mirror. Unfortunately for this man I caught him staring at my sister and I. I cap the jug and hand it back to her, "go pay."

I  turn my back, heading to the corner where his aisle and mine meet. "What's up?" I ask bluntly, "Do you usually creep on scantily clad women who're minding their business?" getting to him I realize how I shrink in his presence and the tiredness his face holds. And there was something else.. Familiarity.

He looks uncomfortable, "Was just making sure you weren't dead on your feet," he smiles nervously, "I tried to chat with you before your friend came in but you didn't respond."

I squint my eyes, if they weren't so glossy and my head didn't feel like it belonged underwater then maybe I could have placed him. But alas, like offerings to Xibalba, the stars were not in position for this tribute. Aka me. I again cross my arms and let out an "mhm." Angrily plucking a snack from his hand and walking away, I'm very aware of how many he can hold in the same hand as his bottled water.

I want to ask my sister if listening to all those true crime podcasts have done nothing for her since she's waiting for me in the darkened parking lot. But I figure the wrong place, wrong time. The lot is riddled with potholes and faded paint and there's usually one kid hanging around the outskirts, seemingly waiting for someone. She tosses me the Powerade and some Visine eye drops. "That bad?" I ask.

"They're as bad as your sunburned ass," she laughs, I shrug. We can't win them all.

We cross the deserted street to the ocean where the fire is blazing and our six closest friends are waiting for us. The waves lap the shoreline and the moon shines high above like a nightlight I had once wanted to kiss, but now holds my secrets. I disliked the dark, but I dislike the heavy stare the  moon now follows me with even more. I heard laughing, crackling fire, and the subtle sounds of a playlist through speakers. I could almost forget why we were there. I vaguely register a car driving off as my sister takes my hand.

 "Is it time?" she asks, standing near the fire. Sam gets up from a log, shakes his brown curls from his face and stands at the shore line. Craning his neck upwards he checks the moon's position. Just this once I wished it would close it's eye. He makes a sound that seems like a "yes," as it struggles to leave his throat and I can't tell if it's from the angle of his neck or the emotions of what we're here to do.

Sam grabs the box and we walk to the boat they probably used in the Notebook. We row over to the crag of ocean rocks that leads to a trail up a cliffside. No one speaks. I can feel a wetness coming over my cheeks that I'm certain had nothing to do with the ocean spray. We tie the boat to a tree and move up the cliff. I will my sandals to corporate and keep me right but that's like asking seaweed to keep the shark steady so I let the cliff wall guid me instead. Slowly the rocks and granite turn to dirt, and grass and I know we made it to the top. From this point, the moon sits perfectly centered over the cliff's edge. I can feel the choices we've made and how this is completely and utterly the best one.

I hear laughter again, feel the excitement, the friendship. However this time it's not something any passing person would see. It's a memory of many times that had come before and many times that would not come again. We open the box. A small blue and silver ceramic pot sits inside. Sam pulls it out, walks over to the edge and pours a little in his hand. He tosses his brother's ashes into the sea that took him. The final middle finger Elijah would have given if he had been alive to do so. Except if he was alive he could give two and I know one would be for me. I close my eyes as he throws the rest.

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

That beach and gas station were still part of our stomping grounds, but that summer it was less frequent and we spent more time cuddled on couches and wandering graveyards. Death will make you do strange things. Guilt will make you do stranger. I watched days, weeks, even months blur together until finally it felt like the fever broke and I woke up. Fall feels like a rebirth, a brief moment of clarity before winter asks if that's what you really want. I dress and drive to the gas station.

 Turning off my car I can feel the cool wind coming from the shoreline. Walking to the waves I crane my neck the way Sam did and wish for the moon above me. I need to know what it saw. The ocean spray cools my body and nerves while waves kick sand on my boots. I stand there listening to the crashing for some time before someone pulls me from my depths.

I turn around to see the gas station worker, he waves. "Where did you kids go?" he calls over the crashing. "I thought you forgot about old Seb," he chuckles as he walks to meet me. "Was worried something happened,"

 "Something did... happen," I reply. He frowns, understanding my emphasis. "Yeah," I say heavily. I start walking away, I want to go to the cliffs. He stops me.

 "You know that guy came back a few nights later," he pauses, "he was looking for you. Said something like wanting 'to make sure that girl was alright,'" he pauses. "It took me a minute to realize he was talking about you. He said you looked sad," I must look confused because he fumbles on, "uh.. he uh was there the last night you and your friends were here...." he trails off, gesturing to the shore, "tall, dark hair, had an accent."

I trace that night back to it's beginning when a memory hits. Oh. Now, how does one tell Mr. Harry Styles, "Sorry about last night, it's just that I was sad and angry and had to spread my friends ashes"? Because unlike John Mulaney I haven't lost the best excuse I have.

"Has he been back since?" I ask.

 "Only once," he replies.

I smile a smile that has stopped reaching my eyes and pat his arm as I walk away, "Thanks, Seb." I say. I make it a few yards before he calls again.

"Oh! I gave him your name," I hear the triumph in his voice. Seb wasn't always the best for remembering. He's getting older and lost his wife a few years back.They ran the station together but ever since she passed it's just been him. We told him to hire help, even to hire one of us since that was our go-to snack shop when we're at the beach. However, he's a stubborn man and refuses the help he doesn't think he needs. I turn around to see him smile his wide, goofy smile and for a brief moment I'm happy with him.

"Did you now?" I ask playfully, "Then why hasn't my mysterious man found me yet?"

He shrugs, "Maybe just waiting for the right time, or to find you at my shop again," he smiles wide.

"Maybe," I respond, "I guess I'll have to come around more," I start walking away but suddenly I turn on my heels, as if forced by unseen hands, "Maybe instead, Seb, you could hire me? Increase my chances at seeing him."

He pauses to think. I know he thinks he doesn't need help, but I know he does and I need to help someone since I can't help myself. Or maybe I'm a masochist. Or maybe if I can meet my "mystery" man I'd have a break from this nightmare.

He sighs and walks over, "Well I guess it would be okay, since it's for love and all,"

I almost kiss him. "You're one lucky man, Seb." I put my arm around his shoulder, facing his station, and wave it in an arch like we were imagining a better world, "With my help we might even fix those potholes." He laughs and I lead him back to the station to fill out my paperwork.

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

I never make it to the cliffs, I end up helping Seb well into the night. When I pull up to my apartment I see my sister's car in a guest spot. I sigh heavily, taking a long drink of my melted slushie and make my way inside. She's asleep on my couch with reruns of the Golden Girls playing and a plate of uneaten food on the coffee table.

She wakes as I sit on the floor between her and the table and pick at the food. "Where were you?" she asks.

"I got a job working for Seb," I hold up the slushie.

"What? He actually hired you?" she half sits up, "What kind?"

I stick out my blue tongue and she lays back down in disgust. She likes the red. "Yes, Jo, my sweet talking is good for more than drinks in a bar," I say dryly.

"Well maybe you can get him to have better snacks," she opens the covers for me to join her. I crawl under the blankets with my big sister like I'm a child again and hope the protection she offers will keep my dreams at bay. But like many sailors and ships lost to its melody of waves, the siren sea calls me back.

1 / (2) / (3) / (4) / (5) / (6)

[bemybestoy]

Genesis of me

Genesis: becoming me! Hello bitches and kink lovers,This blog shall be an open letter to guide and smooth out  our relationship as I am sick and tired of how a dominatrix and a sub's role are misunderstood. Let me introduce myself, I am Krisztina, a pro domme, in my 30's and I am embracing this role for around 8 years. Meaning I am highly experienced and I tried it all, expect the practices that reach out my limit. Such as permanent damage, I would never put the life and health of a slave of mine in jeopardy not thru my instructions or even just widness(you cannot even imagine thru years how many times I was asked if we can perform a c2c castration  precedure, stabbing with knifes or swords for any amount I can posibly think of asking. I repeate it was about c2c so not bulshit as I would watch all along). When I refused such life threatning session I was offered same only to watch, not to instruct. Answer is still NO everytime. BDSM is not abuse, it is not guided endangerment, it must be sane, sane, consensual and have very clear boundaries of safety. To rewind i started to explore this world in my early 20s ofc and suprise , suprise in real life. Even if i am mostly an online fetish chathost and online domme, I did not know such sections of BDSM exist in camming world, till after a few years i have done dominance in real life. Let me explain! So I had a mid managemnt job after my university in a multinational company, which was and still is top 3 globally in its field and shall always be. There is not even a child all across this world that does not know what company is about when hearing it's name (do not be cretin enough to ask me the name, I will tell NO to your face. Or ask you what info you wish next home adress, Id identification number, blood group or home keys along with an open window in case you do not manage to use the keys:)) ). So i was there around 1 years and half and had a long distance relationship with often travelling . We all know those never lastunless one of the two moves abroad. So I hapilly informed my family and work collegues I wish to move to a different country to move in with my bf/ soon to be fiancee. The question in everyone's head right now was you bf your was Ds relationship? the honest answer is hell no! my bf was alike me a real alpha, one of the strongest man psysical and mental both and definetly would not take attitude from no woman (not even the love of his life, unless he was dick and she was right. To understand you need to picture a man at height 1,95 cm and around 100 kilos all fibers and muscles as he had been a kickboxer and when i met him a trainer for kickboxers at European level. A true montain of a man who yet never felt his manhood threaten if he discussed his feeling with me, his desires, his sensibilities, things i would do or say to hurt his feeling even involuntary a I was busy all the time and moving fast etc). So not only that he was not the submissive type, but even if we were in harmony from time to time he would give me 'attitude'. Now even if I am pleased and happy, even if I amm not the nagging type, no matter who you are and how much I love you, if you cross me I will whoop your ass. After a fe episodes, as chasing him thru the apartment every room with the moop tail pointed a him to kick his ass until he ran out, threating to stab his hand with a fork when he tried to touch my steak after leavig him without one as he made clearly to me he was not a pussy to carry grocery bagsand hence to help and many as suchhe decided I should meet one of his best friend from high school, a lady leaving in a city close. He said we would get along perfectly and the lady and I would get along perfectly. Who would knew I was in for such a big suprise.....(cheshire cat as i recall and type). So I did not know much about her ad what she does for a living when we were instruduced. We had  lovely conversation, then she invited me some day when i am off work to visit her house, met her husband also and spend some more lady time together(I was a manager in one of my bf business a gran coffee shop/ bar it was quite big and had 2 floors one was coffe shop and bar all white with blue lighting surrounding th wide bar and lower floor  couches and tables and ring dance for party rentals such as festivity, anniversieries etc. I done so many things in there: not only i would cash in all the money that being my main, but i would help the other emplyees by making cocktails- I made a course for that- , even cleaning or washing glasses, once out there i was the only personal managing or website, of course PR as even t planning as I was the one who organised every detail of our rental and someone even DJ, a lower floor had DJ booth with pro equipment which i manage to completely fuck up as I had no idea what I was doing and the booked DJ announced last minute he was so coming so my bf said as i am the most modern and tech savvy to give a try to see if i can work it. not only I was not able , but i fucked it up so bad we had to call a tehnician to fix it and he taught me basically how to use it on a minimal level to work it for the party which turned out great. Still cracks me out when i think of my face when i was sure i fucked it up lol. it was a dexter labority moment and his blonde sister deedee: i was like many if i press this and that i will fix it )  I was like well i cannot make it worse :))) Then I decided I need some female eergy without the 'guys' going everyday at my bf gym to do my box training, my krav maga and I gave a call to this lady ask her if I can indeed visit and when It is appropriate to come and suits her schedule.My employees and bf replacing me could manage a day without and i needed a getaway. She invited me in couple or days, my bf drove me to her house and then left to actually replace me. we had an amazing luncheon, laughed, make jokes, just getting to know each other mostly me and her, but also her husband. Then she informed me she had some work to do soon but i can wait with her husband. Unlike I want to come with her. I was like ok I want to come, ut i am not sure whether i disturb you and invite me just to be polite or if it is really ok. i mean i got the best manners you could witnes both on and out of my job. She said she would actually like to share what she does with me as she likes me and she is quite sure having such a strong and open personality  would not make me freak out. I was within my mind ' what should i freak out about?!'. but still acted al casual as i liked her myslf, it only made me very curious. I have a feline personality so curiosity is in my nature, though it is pure and observatory, not the gossip, lame and weak as usual women are. So..... she said she will be busy with work for around 2 hours and if i wanted to stay aside as she cannot pay attention to me. i was like ok... She then invited me at the basement where she said she would met at her 'office' a person whom she expects, as her work space has direct access from garage. Then we would both go downstairs. Well probably telling all cluess made you suspect or realise it was a full dungeon downstairs. a pro dungeon.you should have seen my face when i noticedall the tools, device,suspension systems and the rest of the toys. She looked at me patient and confident, without a care in her mind that i might judge or something.... let me soak it all in... then she asked: You still want to stay or do you want to go upstairs with my husband to keep him company thru soccer game was on tv? " . She was so calm as if she shown me a bush of pants in her garder:)) Then my first outspoken reaction to her it was one of a morron: my first words after what i have seen, my first question asked was if her husband knew about all these(as they do not share a house for more then 10 years). She said yes, but he does not interfer with her work, comes down sometimes, but participates rare and very dismissive toward whom she works with. So I gotten more curious. I obviously suspected what will happen soon, but never withness something alike.Well I done so many sessions and you remember even if having a perfect memory the big lines of the majority. The first one I had only as a peeper I remember in smallest little details. Bitch parked and had a hoody on. he knoecked and when was invited, he went down on his knees down on all stairs. He looked like a maggot or miriapod with his head down to do not cascade over stairs as he was not standing. She then informed her she had a guest which will attend, but will not participate. Not giving a fuck of his reaction. I;ve seen chain suspection bondage, over all punishment and esp cbt along with huge strapon penetration. Shge is quite tall1.80 and she really was at perfect level as he bitch even if him hanging from the ceiling without touch the floor or be close to it even. i was amazed and intrigued. So as soon everything was done and he left ofc i asked so many questions. She answered all with patience even if i must have been annoying like a child and not  take the time to put together the smarters questions. After i while I was blablabla in a hyper manner about what she does as a professional domina I was like wait! does my bf know about this? She smilled and said ofc. He sometimes rarely when visiting me participates even as a master helping mewith pain or bootlicking or stuff. He joins more then my husbnd who when bored and coming down to see when i finish at most lets his shoes licked by my slaves then goes upstairs. I found all these fascinaint and so alternative so ofc I wanted to see more.So often I would visit her as watch her sessions with her slaves. After several mouth a slave of hers made her after session a big financial tribute offer that i participate too and i can second her domining. She asked me if it is something I consider. I did want it, but felt like I would be clueless as per what to do. Even if you watch many times that does not mean you feel suddly like you can replicate that certainty in action. She said not to worry as bitch knows it is my first time and this and following her lead is exactly what it is excites him. So i mus not overthink, just try to have some fun. And damn! It was so much fun! the hormones, the excitment, the laughter from humiliation talk, the driven crazy look on the bitches' face, the overall experience. it was like wow! it is hard to paint it in words, with all lexicon richness or ability to play with words. it is pure extasy! :D:DAfter he felt she made sure he had a chit chat with a glass of wine, making sure i am good with all, she said how great i was as she does not like other lady dommes in general. What was the goodbye part when my bf arrved to pick me up in car she actually did give me my own tribute. how much money! like lots! Then she invited me often to participate in the session in which slave got excited about 2 lady dommes. I accepted that one per week as i was busy with my own line of work. I had so much fun more then a year. Seen lots, done lots.Then a night I was speaking to him in our bed, holding hands, after2-3 rounds of sex and many orgasms. My realtionships are very intimate and I always go for an open man, who is super smart so besides sex and comfy routine I would have a late night conversation till 4-5 am even if we had to bed up and work in couple hours. there is just something that it is most meaninful ina relationship, to communicate ina deep way and to enjoy it lots both of you. and get into each other soul, emotions and deepest needs.So I did ask him : what made you think she would like me and would like her? what made you believe i would enjoy all these as you know we do not do anything as such? He then said he met thru his life many type of women: brainy, prude, whores, dommes, swingerseven submissive lil fmale toys. And he said a true dominant is never made into one. Ofc you can be good if you copy and get exposured to it or at least satisfactory to a slave. But the best dominant are born, not made. It is in their nature and personalities. They give out clues all the time, no matter the random they do.It made me wonder lots. After a couple moment of silence with my head on his chest, lips against his neck and hand holded all thru our talk, just enjoying the thinking of each, the meaninful silence, i asked if he does not feel bothered about that facti enjoy myself playing with slaves when not only he do not do anything alike, but he is not playing with others either. I mean it is a vast emoions i fell which exclude him fully. he said ofc not, as our love life is something i need more then my alternative fun, thta he knows i can live without that experience, but i would be heartbroken if i was without us (you need to understand jealousy cannot be an issue here. Real pro dommes in dungeon do facesitting all dressed up thru latex or leather and it has got a suffocating breath control purpose. i will explain you why: first of all a n evelated domme cares about personal hygiene and she know there are many scat lovers visiting dommes. so to have one licking your pussy it is not quite sanitary. also ass worship is done thru leggings. the most expensive, best dommes will never allow a slave licking. that is just some vanilla crap made up buy hookers selling sex and bdsm aswell. a well respected professional odoes not indulge in that. I am not saing to use a slave for self sexual satisfaction makes you a bad, poorly skilled mistress. But you do that as a lifestyle domme.Meaning you have a domestic relatinship with your slave who is your life patner. Never in a pro dungeon relationship oral for a slave would be allowed or accepted). Drinking champagne straight from mistress soource yes, but without wiping after. You may have it fromshort distance her controlling her debit makeing her slave do not miss anything unless they agree before on a facial champagne game. But when you go to a pro domme you cannot expect her to enjoy licking pussy and ass. Not to mention licks or even nudity just because it arrouses you. so my bf knew my sex life involved only him, in vanilla terms we all know.And he was ok with my alternative fun. We were even if a modern couple a very faithful one. So our orgasms were only and strictly dedicated to one another, exclusively.He wasgreat in bed so i would have every single day more then ten orgams within couple of hours(we had wakeup sex, luch break sex and couple turns before bed, many squirty orgams, clit or vaginal without squirt). The most sexual gesture i seenin the pro domme who introduced me to this world is just around 3 times within one year to milk cock with latex gloves, but with ruin orgasm. she took hand of when she felt he would come load was shoot without touching he would lick after she pull gloved off and glove was washed after. More often she would make the bitch wank himself while she instructs him closeby. her husband accepted her line as he accepted and love everything about her, but he was like my ex fiancee: hear pussy, ass, breast, orgams, real sexual intimacy are for your pratner. Not for everyone. That is a hooker thing to do. To gave all that just just random everyones. One after the other.That is not what a real dmme is made off. Her strenght and charm comes out because he in full intimacy is hard to get if not impossible. And by all means a slave shoould be use till u reach full sexual satisfaction. But only for your chosen one or ones. I fyou are a lifestyle domme and have a slave as life partner or few slaves as toys as open relationship is ok. But you cannot expect same from a real pro domme! That is something builtand leveled up!PS Hmmm now to breath a lil as I poured everything  so fast. deep inhales and exhales. light a cigg after and build this disclaimer. my spelling is awful as you know me i type like a motherfucker in full speed. Ignore all errors and consider the essence of my phrases. I do not believe in going back to spellcheck unless you publich a book or something editorial. I did that during university in an non paid internship, both as corrector and publisher. But it was a publication spread and shippd on a national evel. And in both roles i learned that the first message and thought till publishing as you go back several times are worlds apart. So much changes. And since I do not publish something wanting to be of intellectual value I wish a very spontaneous, fast writing. It is the most sincere, no filters and even if shifting thoughts without a bridge causing some lack of coherency now and then it is more powerful as the first reactions are.  So yes a blog! why a blog? i do not do social media. it is lame, tacky and became brainless. i miss books or blogs at least. and i do not like at all media unless i do exposure over it from bitches craving for begging and tribute me for it. These reasons and that I cannot stand screens after 8-10 hours of online being available to sessions. I like to look in eyes of someone I talk to and they looking back at me. Instead of both or all dinner participants looking non stop at phone while we pretend to be together. Meanwhile no one is present as they focused on media and other stuffs over their phone .That is not only lame and un natural  , but also impolite. Themost important ask from people around me is manners first of all. One lack of manners become my refusal to have this creature close to me even silent, simply unacceptable.  In addition, if i must have my eyes after work on something i prefer a good movie or a book. Actual human contact is important to me as little as we have it nowadays with global situation. so NO, unless i will have video call activated which i will seldom have I do NOT exist until i am online the next day I feel the need to have people at my feet :) I am literary out of this world. I do not exist for anyone online. And enjoy it every minute !

[knightkaito1412]

Fictober 2019

Prompt #8: "Can you stay?"

Fandom: Star Wars (Alternate Universe)

Rating: G

Warning: N/A

Author's Note: This is my first time doing an event like this. In truth, I am not even fully confident in my writing. But I believe this could serve as an opportunity to grow. So I welcome any criticism and advice that anyone can give me. And I hope you all enjoy the short story! :)

Summary: (Takes place around 2 years after ANH) After stormtroopers managed to capture Luke Skywalker on the Death Star, the boy is taken to get interrogated by Lord Vader. The Sith Lord is left reeling when he finds out that Luke is his son and hides him on Mustafar, away from the prying eyes of the Emperor, to train him in the ways of the Force. Together they fought against Sidious and defeated him, claiming the throne for his son. However, the victory did not come without its sacrifices and challenges that led to it. Luke is constantly haunted by them in his dreams and only one person can soothe the troubled boy...

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Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Only the sound of his mechanical hands typing on the blue screen of the datapad echoed off the walls of his luxurious room. 

The palace was sound asleep. Laying dormant and at peace to prepare for the new chaotic day that would arise tomorrow. 

It was always busy in the Imperial Palace, and he remembered a time when even in the darkness of the night, politicians and officers would roam the hallways or worked diligently. But save for the soldiers who patrolled, not a single soul was awake. And Vader wasn't either. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. 

It was odd that despite not being Emperor, as second in command, Vader had more work than he had in the decades he served the old Empire. However, there were so many changes that still needed to be done. 

Abolishing slavery in the Outer Rim; reforming and providing supplies to worlds destroyed by the previous Empire; electing the right leaders for the new galactic Senate; paying tribute to the soldiers' families on each side of the war. And the list went on and on. 

Vader did not complain because all these changes were what his son desired to bring peace, and justice into the galaxy. 

Ironic that his old self declared the same thing when Palpatine's empire rose into power. But unlike the past, the future held the truth. 

Vader placed the datapad down, pausing slightly to relax, and glancing his head towards the door by his side. Even now, father and son slept in adjacent rooms just like when the boy stayed on Mustafar next to his personal quarters. There was peace in just knowing the other was in arms reach though they could feel each other's presence a thousand light-years away. And it was perfect when one needed to comfort the other from memories and dreams that were best left thrown down a dark abyss. 

Vader slowly stretched his senses, gently probing his son's bond without disturbing the boy's sleep. But much to his surprise, the boy was not asleep, and upon feeling his presence, Luke's light squeezed needfully against his own. Fear clouded that luminous light. 

Before he knew it, Vader swiftly crossed through the door and entered his son's dim lighted room, raising the brightness of the light a little more. Luke sat upon his bed, cerulean covers tossed to the floor, and his silky snow pajamas were wrinkled. The boy trembled like a leaf; his golden hair was disheveled; his eyes were unfocused, but the moment he noticed his presence, Luke's eyes cleared. 

"F-Father..." Relief brimmed in the chattering voice as the panic subsided slightly. His child shakily got off the bed, tumbling his way over to him as he swayed in his steps. 

Vader hurriedly met his son halfway before the boy collapsed and embraced his arms around him, Luke returning the hug wholeheartedly. His dear little son buried his face, almost wanting to merge with him to disappear from the memories that plagued the soul. And Vader welcomed such desire by hugging him tighter. 

"Shhh..." Vader tenderly cradled his child's little head under his gloved palm. "It's alright, little one. I'm here... I'm here... " He held his son for what felt an eternity. Simply combing Luke's silky hair between his fingers and whispering the same mantra as a prayer that asked for peace. 

And he would gladly continue to hold Luke for another eternity, but the sobs and shaking silenced.

The boy stilled, and his force presence returned to its full luminous, calmed state. 

Vader carefully began to draw back the little child from his chest, believing Luke felt better to return to bed on his own, but the boy stiffened and grasped him tighter- frightful of being even a slight inch away from him. 

"No-!" Luke whimpered, shaking his head pressed against the armored chest. 

Vader stopped, slowly wrapping his arms around the small child again. "It's alright, little one. It's alright... I'm here..." He softly whispered to the best of his abilities to appease his son's fears. 

Gradually the boy became calm, but still held no intention of letting go. Silence settled between them once more till a tiny plea reached his ears.  

"Can... can you stay?" Luke quivered and raised his head slightly, his encompassing blue eyes brimming with tears. "Please... Stay with me?"

Vader's heart melted from the heartfelt plea. His soul surged with fierce parental protectiveness and the love he felt for his son multiplied further. It was during the night when haunting memories terrorized his son that he got to see another side to Luke. A younger side that made him gain an image of Luke being a tiny child rather than the adult man that he was. 

Vader placed his mouthpiece on top of his tiny son's head, a familiar gesture that he made as a resemblance to a kiss. Much like he could have done should his body be free from the terrible suit. But that dream would be accomplished soon enough... 

"Of course, little angel." Vader cooed back with a smile and brushed the bangs from Luke's beautiful eyes. "I'll stay with you. All night long." 

And his words caused a wondrous little smile to grace the angel's face. "Thank you, Father...." 

Reluctantly, Luke pulled back from his embrace but grasped onto his hand, yearning for that physical contact as he slowly led him to the bed. His son gestured him to sit down, those blue eyes now regaining some life and joy again at having his parent with him. Vader sat down on the bed, his knees no longer screeching with pain thanks to the new prosthetics he got. It was just a step closer to his full treatment and freedom of the suit. 

Once seated, Luke briskly joined his father by laying down his head on his parent's lap, his legs propped on the bed, and pulling the blankets over him. The boy stared up at him, the blue eyes glistening with happiness and pure love. "Tell me a story. A happy one. About you and mother again."

Luke would always ask about the stories of him and his mother. The boy ached for them and sought him out to listen to them after long days of work as the Emperor. Or, just like in this instance, he would ask after a terrible nightmare. Anything to wipe away the images of Palpatine cutting the boy’s right arm off or the twisted men torturing him in that dark cell. 

He warmly smiled in response, knowing that Luke could sense his compliance through the Force without the need to see his face. “A long time ago, in a luscious and green planet of peace, there ruled an angelic queen….” 

Vader spoke long into the night, a tale of a queen fighting for peace and freedom for her people; and the fateful meeting between queen and slave boy. Luke listened closely with such blissful enjoyment as the words became images and danced inside his mind. Yet sleep warmly tugged at the corners of Luke’s mind constantly, the boy stubbornly trying to stay awake to hear his father’s tale, till his son finally gave in and closed his eyes. 

The horrors of the past washed away to paint with innocence, and purity into the form of a smile. His son cuddled close to his stomach, clutching his gloved hand in his grasp. It was a beautiful image of his dear son and Vader hungrily roamed his eyes over and over to imprint it deep into his memories. 

This was the reason why he continued to live. 

All because of Luke...

His sweet and dear little son… 

Vader stroked that smooth cheek under his thumb and shamelessly traced each detailed feature of his son’s face. So much like a parent admiring their newborn for the first time. 

'I love you son... And I will always be with you.'

And as if the boy heard his father’s words, Luke smiled even brighter.