#I'm 44 years old and always before I see her

[swallows-are-for-hope]

.

[sydmarch]

anyway this is what i was actually trying to find. fucking thinking about this.

[puripurin]

Again, thanks 4 da idea, @littlekohai77!! Now this is the one where cute yan monster's darling is meeting his mother.

— "You have a human mother??" You said in confusion. I mean, you could see it, but was there anyone who could survive this long with a hanging jaw? It's been a few weeks since you met Aimilios, but you've never seen his mother roaming around.

"Yeah! You've never seen her because my mama is always in the basement of the building now because in recent years, many people have come and tried to "save" her, I don't know why, though. She looks safe and happy! She enjoys running around, hiding from my father, and loves being tossed around him. They're actually trying to kidnap her and experiment on her because she's very pretty. That's what I've come up with. How horrifying." You tried your best not to look skeptical, though. You didn't want him to burst out crying because you told him what people actually see when a woman is running around in an abandoned building being manhandled by a monster. So you kept your mouth shut on that part and changed the topic to his father.

"Wait, but your father is that crazy horned bastard who doesn't like me?" You furrowed your eyebrows as Aimilios tilted his head, trying to understand what you mean.

"Yeah, and he and my mama love each other very much! Just like you and me, we love each other very much, mh! You are my one and only." He hugged you and snuggled into you before grabbing your hands.

"Because papa finally trusts you enough. He finally allowed me to show you where mama is staying and meet her. So can we meet her now?" He smiles at you and grips your hands tightly. Although you go swooped up into this ridiculous situation by force, you could tell that it means a lot to him to see his mother.

"I-... okay, we can see her." He squeezed your hands tightly and hugged you one more time before leading you down a flight of steps to the basement. He breathed in before opening the door too fast and hit himself in the face and slammed his hand on the wall when he pulled the door open. He slowly crumbles to the floor in pain.

"Oh! Amy, is that you– ACK!" You heard a harsh thud as the woman fell to the ground. You slowly led Aimilios inside the room with the hand that wasn't swollen with pain and saw the woman covering her mouth in pain. How unfortunate is this family that they get injuries at the same time??

After a couple of minutes, it was silent. Aimilios' mother was looking away in embarrassment as she held an ice pack to her lips while Aimilios, who was sitting next to you, held an ice pack to his nose and his hand was on the table with an ice pack resting on top of it.

Now that you're looking at her, you can see where Aimilios' cuteness came from. This woman looks young, almost similar in age to Aimilios, and has the exact same eyebrows, eye shape, and nose as him. The eye colour came from his father, but his hair? You have no idea where it came out from.

"R-right. I'm sorry about that you had to witness that, (Y/n)... My first impression of you must be bad, so I'm sorry about that." She lifted the ice pack when she needed to speak and was extremely embarrassed by the situation.

"Ah, no worries. I can see where Aimilios got his clumsiness from. My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and im 23." You smiled at her and gave your hand for her to shake, to which she obliged to.

"You can just call me mom. I'm the mother of Aimilios and the wife of that grumpy little beast. Im 44 years old." She smiled as you looked surprised.

"44? You look the same age as Aimilios!" His mother just chuckled and put her hand on her cheek from the compliment.

"So how did you meet Aimilios because I have a feeling that he's lying to me about saving you from one of the ruined rooms in this place." Aimilios' face exploded into a bright red blush.

"N-no! I wasn't lying! Mom!" Aimilios covered your ears, but it was too late, you burst out in laughter.

"T-that's what he told you!?!? Hahahahaha!" You wiped your nonexistent tears as Aimilios put the ice packs into the bowl on the table and covered his face from embarrassment. His mother let out a couple of chuckles.

"Well, I was exploring this place because I was bored, and when I was walking when all of a sudden, he came out only to hit his face on a hanging piece of metal. He was going to cry--" You laughed, but Aimilios covered your mouth.

"I-I'm going to get water." He said in embarrassment and shuffled to the makeshift kitchen to open the tap. He huffed turned back.

"Mom... There's no water. I'll go outside to turn on the water..." He quickly left with a set of keys. As soon as you heard the door clicked, you turned back to the mother.

"Why are you not telling him the fact that people are really trying to save you out of concern??" You spoke out, really wanting to know the reason why she hasn't told him anything. His mother slapped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes out of embarrassment.

"You don't know how hard it it to go up to him and say, "Oh, it's not because people want to kidnap me because they want experiment on me, it's because when i have fun with my husband, they either think he's mauling me to death or raping me! Sorry, son!" It's not easy-" There was a drop of keys both you and his mom eyes widened in horror as Aimilios was standing at the door, tears welling in his eyes.

"Mom! (Y/n)! How could you lie to me!!!" He cries and runs away.

"aMy NOOOOO!!!"

Okay, okay, that ending was super fun to write 💀💀 this is better than the storytelling one cus this is goofy asf. Anyways how do yall like the names ive picked out for cute yan monster and his father? I better hear amazing, Googling shit is hard /j

Also the hair colour thing is intentional cus i have an idea with that 🤭 sorry if your oc has blond hair thoughhh.

Note prooftread.

Edut: forgor tags again. Mb

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: More of Y/N's past is revealed. Dean is there to comfort her as he inquires about the parts she never shared. Warnings: Angst, talk of past abuse, child abuse, comfort, coping, understanding trauma, trauma, denial, no GIF sorry!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 1,974

Words mean more at night

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

A back-and-forth motion rubs against my knee but my eyes are down at the carpeted floors. Someone got me to my motel room.

I blink, my eyes tracing the movement to a familiar veiny hand. He’s kneeled in front of me, patiently waiting for me. His motion on my knee doesn’t stop as he smiles at me sadly, “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer weakly, watching his face for any changes. Carefully he raises his free hand to my hand, giving me time to back away. He covers my clutched hand, I hadn’t realized I was forming tight fists. He gently pries my fingers open revealing little alcohol packets. That’s the light thing I was handed to clean off the specks of blood…blood from—

“Hey, you’re okay,” Dean says softly, pulling me back to the present. He takes the packets from my hands, opening one carefully but before he moves to do anything he asks, “Can I?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. I know I wasn’t supposed to allow him our small touches but that can all be screwed right now. I want a hug and I want to hide under the covers until it all passes, as childish as it sounds. “Words,” he reminds. He had his nailbed-biting habits I had the habit of shutting down and he knew that well enough to try and push me out of it, even if it meant just answering verbally. “Yes, please,” I say just barely above a whisper.

The motion on my knee stops and with that same hand, he reaches up slowly to cradle my head, pushing some of my hair back. He gets closer to my face and with the alcohol pad he lightly rubs off a spec on my cheek, his eyes focused there. I knew what he was thinking, I could see the thoughts and questions swirling in his eyes. “You can ask,” I say, it’s better to get it over now. He doesn’t say anything for a beat as he cleans a couple of spots on my face, “Not my place too,” he answers.

He lets go of me, pushing off the balls of his feet, and standing up, he collects the scraps and walks to the other side of my small motel room to discard them.

I want to sink into myself, “You’re upset with me,” I tell him, knowing I'm right by his body language and just overall behavior. Again he doesn’t answer but I can see the tension in his shoulders and I know he’s holding back. I kick off my shoes, scooting back on the bed until my back hits the headboard. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around me as he fidgets with something on the counter. 

He turns around swiftly but doesn’t move towards me, “Why didn–” he cuts himself off, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

He shakes his head, “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for sweetheart I–”

“You can say it. Let’s just talk about this now, I don’t like it when you’re upset at me,” I admit though I’m sure he already knew. He sighs, looking away, “I’m not upset at you.”

“You aren’t?” I ask, surprised.

“No. I’m mad I didn’t know,” he steps closer until he reaches the bed, “I should’ve known.”

I pat the spot next to me, allowing him to get closer so we could sit comfortably like old times, “We were young,” I reasoned. He takes the spot next to me, the bed dipping as he does, “I have two years on you,” he counters. I roll my eyes, he always tries to play that card. “Well, I was very good at hiding it, had to be. Plus…you heard what I said about B/N.”

He groans, frustrated, his head leaning back on the headboard, “That doesn’t make me feel better. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“You had your own things to worry about. We didn’t see each other very often then either, we hung out more after he died and by then it was no longer an issue,” I explain. But he doesn’t respond. “I’m quite resilient you know. Not much can really kill me,” I add, trying to lighten the mood. His head snaps to me, “That doesn’t make it better. You were still…”

“It’s okay,” I say, focusing my eyes on the wall across the room. “It’s not,” he replies, “He died when you were 15, you had 3 years of that.” I’m almost surprised he remembered the exact time like that, though maybe he had been thinking about it and started to calculate. I don’t say anything for I have nothing to say at all, I don’t talk about it and I’ve tried to forget it. “I shoulda known,” he repeats. I turn my head to look at him being met with his side profile, his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw tense, he was beating himself up over something he couldn’t control. “I didn’t expect you to help me or save me you know, or anyone for that matter. Just hanging out with you and Sammy was enough.”

His jaw seems to twitch, “I saw some bruises before, but you said it was from a hunt you helped your Dad with. You're a lousy liar so I should’ve known.”

“Dean,” I say firmly,  touching his shoulder. He meets my eyes, his green eyes are cold, “Trust me when I say it wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. It just happened. And it’s over now, has been for a while.”

He swallows roughly, his Addams apple bobbing, and I know he doesn’t believe me, “It’s your Dad’s fault, he’s a prick. Don’t matter if he was grieving or not.”

I frown, remove my hand from his arm, and focus my attention back on the wall. I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, “Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for him…” he says but I don't answer, “You don’t blame him?” he asks confused, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eyes. I shrug, shrinking further into myself in an attempt to make myself smaller, “I don–I don’t know. He wasn’t always like that…he just….Mom was gone so…” I exhale a shaky breath, “I know it was wrong, that he shouldn’t have been doing that. I know that. It’s not like I forgive him or anything, I mean he hurt my brother—”

“And you,” Dean cuts me off to add.

“Yeah…and I know there are healthier ways of coping, I don’t condone his actions and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could do that to their kids but Mom was gone and…”

“There is no ‘but’ and you know that. Your explanation isn't going anywhere ‘cause there’s no excuse for that,” he interjects firmly. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t feel right to believe or say and I don’t know why. “He was only mean when he was drunk, otherwise he was quiet or gone,” I try to reason but the words feel wrong as they leave my mouth. “Not an excuse,” he counters.

“I know,” I mumble, “But! It started as an accident!” I say looking at Dean, “And it was necessary. He was on a hunt by himself and we knew he would be back soon but it was late so me and B/N made dinner together, we ate and saved some for him. B/N ended up falling asleep early, his football practice totally knocked him out, so I stayed up and waited at the kitchen table to make sure Dad got home okay. When he finally did get home he was very drunk and smelt like alcohol, I helped him and he was babbling about Mom. He pushed me off of him, ‘said he could do it himself so I backed off a little.

Then he was trying to get to the fridge for another beer but I got in his way cause I knew he had too much and should have water instead, he called me some mean names that I don’t wish to repeat. I’m very stubborn so I didn’t move and he hit me, it was just a slap though. But I have this whole defense mechanism and if my body thinks it’s in true danger then my powers will start working to defend me without really my control, and it’s very hard to shut off. So things started to rattle, and a picture frame on the mantel of Mom broke and that really made him upset so he hit me again this time harder and I actually passed out. But that’s okay! cause nothing else broke and I could’ve really hurt someone or if it got too out of control then I could’ve gotten the attention of hunters.”

I stop my rambling of the story, watching Dean’s face to see if he finally understood. But his eyes were filled with so much sadness and his face dropped with sympathy, a frown on his lips. “What?” I ask confused, didn’t he get it now? He doesn’t answer, instead, he wraps his arms around me, bringing me into his chest. I shift my legs so I can hug him back comfortably, but I hold onto his arms more confused than anything. “Wasn’t necessary,” he says, his chin on my head. I open my mouth to say something else, to say he’s wrong but it hits me then. I was being an idiot, a total fool.

If someone told me that story I would feel bad for them and say they didn’t deserve that, they did nothing wrong in the first place. But it wasn’t someone else’s story, it was mine, and somehow that made it different. Right?

It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t, so why do I feel this way? I’m not normally like this. “Wasn’t your fault. You were a kid and you were trying to help, he’s an asshole and shouldn’t have done any of it,” Dean says softly.

Tears run down my cheek. I didn’t like his Dad because he didn’t treat them well so why was I making excuses for my Dad? Was it because of Mom? She loved him so wholly but still would have despised what he became, did he know that? Did that only make him feel worse?

And just because he wasn’t always mean to us doesn’t mean it was okay. Because it was more than being mean, I know that.

I know by morning I’ll be in a better mood. I’ll have a different perspective on things that I won’t understand for a while, I’m self-aware enough to know that too. But it will be okay because things always turn out okay, they always get better. Tomorrow will always be a new day and the sun will shine brighter.

I pull away from Dean just far enough to look at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was nothin’ against you.”

He gently wipes away a tear falling down my cheek, “Stop apologizing.”

I open my mouth to apologize for apologizing but seeing the issue there I lean my head into his chest again. We stay there silently for a while and I try to focus on the soft rise and fall of his chest instead of my mind. He rubs a hand up and down my back, and my shoulders drop. It’s been a long day with a lot of emotions and I was tired. “He can’t hurt you anymore. ‘Won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers just barely audible. But my eyes were fluttering shut, growing heavy so maybe I imagined it and the soft press of his lips to my crown.

Tomorrow will be better, I remind myself.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 44 (A Nephew and a Wedding!)

Making the most of a rainy autumn, Heather travelled to Henford to meet River and Cassandra's son, Michael, before he was even a week old.

She marvelled at her tiny nephew while he slept. "It's incredible, Riv! That's your kid!"

"He's pretty amazing, isn't he? I can't believe he's finally here."

Heather had arrived with first-time grandmother, Bella Goth, who always looked incredible. Even now that her jet black hair had faded to grey, she dressed like she could stop traffic everywhere she went.

"He has my brother's chin," she said, glancing wistfully upon her grandson as he woke from his nap. Baby Michael had been named for Bella's brother, who died in a motorcycle crash at the age of 32.

Bella was delighted to meet her grandson, but memories of her older brother still made her sad. He’d been gone for over twenty years, but he was her big brother - the only person she regretted leaving behind in Sunset Valley when she and Mortimer got married.

Cass cradled her new son. "I know how much you miss him. I wanted to honour his memory, and when he was born, we thought he looked like a Michael. Are you upset?"

Bella pushed forth a smile. "No, my goodness. My brother would have been thrilled to know his name lives on." Cass carefully studied her mother's face. "I know Michael's death triggered the depression that led to my disappearance, but I'm a stronger person now. I want to see my grandson grow up, and I have plenty to keep my mind busy. Diego keeps talking about taking a trip, and your brother's wedding is next month."

"Maybe Alexander and Lydia will give you more grandkids soon," Heather suggested sweetly as she cuddled Michael in her arms.

"You know she doesn't even want a wedding?" Bella smiled. "I told Lydia there was no chance my son would elope at Brindleton Town Hall, but she doesn't want seating, because she doesn't want an audience. She doesn't want a wedding dress, and doesn't want Alexander in a tux. The guests will be more dressed up than they are!"

"If it's what she wants, won't it still be beautiful?" Cass saw the world in such a romantic way.

"She wants an altar made of palm leaves! In our mansion! The aesthetic has me gasping! But she says the only part of the wedding she's actually looking forward to is her honeymoon in Sulani. All she cares about is marrying Alexander, not showing off for a bunch of guests she doesn't know."

"I think that's sweet," said Cassandra.

"A part of me was mortified! But a bigger part of me wishes I'd had the guts to stand up to Mortimer's parents when I was thrown into the deep end of the society scene as his photogenic new bride all those years ago. I really like her."

Heather and her siblings were all invited to the big day – a simple and phoned in ceremony (by the Watcher!) at the Goth family mansion in Brindleton Bay.

(I just wanted to make sure they didn't break up or something so I rushed it, quick and dirty. They're a side-side household at the moment even though I've tentatively plotted some of their future in my notes, but sometimes I just want to play and not do all this set up. And I'll shamelessly try to excuse it with storytelling every time.)

Surprisingly, no one complained about sitting on the floor for the ceremony. And even though it was raining, Heather chatted with Holly outside in their boho-style dresses.

"That colour looks great on you," Holly said, eyeing the purple dress Heather had chosen from the shop with almost no thought.

"Thanks, but I don't know where I might have a chance to wear something like this again." (The game picked it at random but I like how the colour nods to Gen 3)

"Maybe you should wear it with Conrad somewhere."

"We're not really a dressy couple," she said. "All my clothes get covered in whatever Ash gets his hands in then wipes on my shirt. If he wasn't at his dad's this weekend, I'm sure the dress would already have at least three stains."

Holly laughed, shaking her head. "You're so unflirty, sis. I don't know how you have the hottest man on the planet practically begging to move in with you."

"I'm taking him home to Henford soon. I really want him to meet everyone, but I'm so worried it won't go well."

"Why wouldn't it go well? Didn't you say he wanted to come with you today but couldn't get away from work?"

"I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop, that's all."

"What, like he's secretly working for the Landgraabs in some elaborate scheme to steal your code for your next mobile app?" She laughed at the thought, but Heather would be lying if she said the possibility had never crossed her mind, even once, in the months since she'd known him.

"I think it's more that if it doesn't go well, it would hurt too much."

"Then don't overthink it. You know no matter what, you'll always have us."

As hard as it was to take Holly's advice, Heather spent the next few weeks focused on her clinic to keep her mind off her relationship fears. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Lydia Kim-Lewis (now Goth!) is the youngest of three daughters of Eric and Alice. She's also Hazel Nesbitt's best friend since childhood, which is why the family-focused wedding had so many Nesbitts, too. For those who like updates on townies and premades, eldest Olivia married Imran Watson and they have three kids, and Spencer of course married Everett (and they have Greyson and Jett). Spencer and Lydia were both born in-game.

[the-eeveekins]

While I'm on a roll, I'm going to go off on a little bit of a personal rant (continuing something I mentioned earlier), that's been on my mind due to some comments I've seen made about G-Witch and Sulemio in recent days. I normally try to avoid writing rants like this but this one has been grinding my gears a bit.

Yes, in the grand scheme of queer media, Sulemio's relationship can definitely come across as underwhelming. No one would deny that you can get more explicitly and textually queer stories out there, especially by queer creators. But that absolutely ignores some of the circumstances surrounding the show.

First, it's been made pretty obvious by now that the staff wasn't allowed to be very explicit in their depiction of Suletta & Miorine's relationship. The company that censored an interview and released a tone-deaf statement that their relationship should be "up to interpretation" because a VA said they were married obviously wasn't going to be cool with Suletta and Miorine kissing, saying I love you and getting married on screen. They would've put their foot down well before we got to the ending. And even then the staff did enough to make Suletta & Miorine explicitly married by the end of the show. They found ways around whatever limitations Bandai put into place to try and make Sulemio subtext, and made them a canon couple within the show itself. I get tired of people saying the show didn't explicitly and textually confirm their relationship and marriage because it does, just in a roundabout way via the "sister-in-law" line because they couldn't do it in a straightforward manner.

Seriously, by all accounts, it's not like the people making this show wanted to end Sulemio with "just handholding" and half-assed the relationship, they wanted to do more but couldn't. Just look at how some of the staff members depicted them in the artbook once they were off Bandai's leash: with multiple wedding pictures.

Second, it's actually a big deal that they ended the show married, even if they had to do it in a roundabout way. Yes, the yuri genre is generally going to have more explicit lesbian relationships than what we got with Sulemio, but the yuri genre isn't exactly mainstream. Dedicated yuri anime isn't airing in primetime and ending with the main couple married, it's usually late-night, niche and usually only gets one season that introduces the couple, maybe gives you a kiss, but forces you to finish the story through the LN/Manga. Mobile Suit Gundam is a popular, mainstream multi-media franchise that has been running for 44 years, and G-Witch was airing on prime time. The fact that a mainstream franchise like Gundam aired an anime series that was centered around a queer woman and a sapphic relationship that ended with the couple married is huge, especially considering the legal status of same-sex marriage in Japan. Niche yuri anime airing in the middle of the night can probably get away with a lot more gay content than a mainstream franchise airing in primetime can, especially when the franchise is owned by a bunch of old, conservative dudes.

As an anime fan, it's amazing to see a mainstream animated series like The Witch From Mercury focused around a queer woman and a sapphic relationship (and make it TEXTUAL, not relying on subtext to carry it), especially a series not specifically adapted from a yuri LN/Manga. And as a lesbian and a long time Gundam fan, seeing a major franchise I love like Gundam, that has always been dominated by male characters, air a series focused around a queer female MC and her relationship with another woman is a much bigger deal to me than a lot of random yuri series would ever be.

Reducing Sulemio to comparisons between other queer media or yuri series and how it's "inferior" to those because it lacked certain elements ignores and disregards the unique challenges and situation of The Witch From Mercury, and the way the staff fought to overcome those issues to deliver an explicit sapphic story ending in a married couple.

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [44]

chapter forty-four, act five: the ballad of me and my brain

masterlist

-this is the final chapter of this part, I'm slolwy writing the next part but I am alos doing my midterms right now so there may be a wait until it's out.

December 25th 2017

It’s Tommie’s first Christmas alone in five years.

She doesn’t really know what to do with herself, she’s currently sitting on the floor of her kitchen, staring at the TV that’s playing some shitty hallmark film in her living room.

She’s waiting for her pizza to finish cooking, she doesn’t want to eat a cooked dinner alone.

Adam invited her to go along to Christmas with him, but he’s going with Carly’s family, who she doesn’t know that well. So she lied and said she’s going back to LA to spend it with Phoebe in the studio. 

She’s not entirely alone, she has Allen who is currently curled up beside her on the floor, and Button who she’s been tossing a ball for every now and then the last few minutes.

There’s a letter in her hands.

Printed on the front is that familiar messy writing with her address spelled wrong and scribbled out.

Ross dropped it off three weeks ago now, she still hasn’t opened it.

Allen nudges the letter closer to her with his nose, as if he can smell the scent of his owner on it.

She sighs and nods, patting his head gently, “I know, Als.” Allen looks up, “I miss him too.”

Then despite her better judgement she finds herself tearing into the envelope. 

Dear Baby,

I don’t know how to start. I’ve written fourteen letters to you and every single one has ended up being crumpled up at the bottom of my bin. I know the reason that I can’t write is because deep down I don’t deserve for you to hear me out. I fucked up. I fucked up way too many times. And he was right. About you giving me too many chances, letting me walk all over you because that’s what I did, what I do. I took advantage because I knew you’d always be there. I knew I could fall back on you and you’d pick me up because that’s what you do. You’re so good. I don’t deserve that.

One of the therapists I’ve been working with here told me to write letters to the people most important to me. To the ones who I feel that I’ve wronged with my addiction. Apparently it’s a part of my healing journey. I think it’s just to make me feel like a dickhead.  I wrote to my mother first, for falling down the hole she worked so hard to steer me away from, the hole she herself fell down.  Then to Louis for being a shit older brother. To the guys for what happened in San Jose. And now to you. For everything I’ve ever done to you.

I’m not going to list all my mistakes. I’m sure you already have your own list highlighted and neatly stashed away somewhere. I’ve had a lot of time to think while being here (And I already know what you’re thinking, ‘wow, didn’ know you could do that’). I’ve had to think about what to do when I get out of here. I’m not sure if you’ll want to see me. But in my head the first thing I’ll do is come and see you. I’ll get on my knees before you, lit up by those fairy lights we spent three hours trying to hang on your front porch. You’ll open the door and you’ll probably be wearing that old AM concert shirt and your stupid rugby zip-up I keep telling you to replace but you won’t because you’re too sentimental (it’s one of the things I love the most about you). I’ll beg you to just say that you forgive me. Even if you don’t really mean it. And I know you will. I know you would forgive me in an instant because I know you. Then we’ll have everything we’ve wanted, our own studio, we’ll be back on the road, never having to settle, just us the guys and the open road up ahead of us. Endless music, endless time, whatever we want. But I’m going to stay away. Or at least I’m going to try to. I want you to move on and have a better life without me. You’ll do great things. And I can’t be a part of them as much as I want to be. It’ll be hard, for both of us, but in the end you’ll come out on top. You’re the smarter one, with the talents, you have the voice, the skills, the lyrics, the heart. I just have the confidence. I’m nothing without you. Matty Healy is simply nothing without Tommie McDuff, it’s always been that way. But Tommie McDuff is everything. You are everything.  I’ll watch from afar as you keep doing amazing things, with Phoebe, alone, whatever it is you’re doing. I’ll be your biggest supporter, I want you to know that. But I’ll do it from afar. I’ll try to do it from afar.  I say try because you’re my strongest addiction. It’ll take everything in me to stay away. I’ve always been addicted to you. More than any drugs I’ve ever taken. I’m addicted to the way you touch me, a hand on my arm as you laugh, the way you smile at me, those little sarcastic ones you do when I annoy you are my favourite because I know you’re trying your hardest not to break into the biggest grin. I’m addicted to the sound of your voice. And the way your mind works, from your lyrics to your solos, I want to see inside your mind. To study you like an old Victorian sculpture. I’m addicted to your laugh, even when it’s directed at me. To the way you love and the feel of your lips. Ever since your lips first touched mine I’ve searched for others who may make me feel some sliver of the way you did. None have ever compared. Not one. They’re not soft enough, not gentle enough, not exciting enough, they’re not you. They’re never you. I hate myself for doing that to them, to myself, to you. Most of all to you. I hate myself more and more everyday as I sober up, because as each day goes by I’m forced to sit with the knowledge of how I treated you for longer. 

One of the questions I’ve been told to answer is what would I do if I saw you again? What would I do for you? I’m not sure if you’ll want to see me again. But if you did, if you gave me that gift of blessing my eyes with you one last time, I’d hold you. For as long as you let me, hours, days, weeks, months, years, until we both grew old and grey. I’d love you until the moment I died, and even longer if you let me. I’d wait as long as you wanted me to, until the earth ends or just the first sign of spring. I’d collect the stars and bottle them up because I know how much you love them. I’d create a whole new religion just to worship you. I’ve realised now that I’ve rambled. (I’ve run out of paper and only have three lines left) But I have so much more to say. I’ll sum it up in a few words for you. ‘I would give you the moon.’

Yours, Matt.

She puts the letter down. 

One tear escapes her eyes.

There’s a knock on the door.

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[lovedreamer11]

Westeros couples with large age gaps

Okay, today I want to write about the age gap among Westeros couples. This will be a long post. I got this idea after seeing a post calling Daemon a pedophile for the hundredth time. I would understand if this was written by people who are concerned about Rhaenyra’s well-being, but no. The authors of such statements are most often green fans who don’t care about Rhaenyra and are looking for another reason to write nasty things about Daemon.

The sexual relationship between Daemon and Rhaenyra began when the princess was 15 and the prince 31. From a modern point of view, this is terrible, I admit. If I had a daughter, I would never have allowed her to have a relationship with such a big age difference when she was 15. But at that time, others were more embarrassed by the fact of an extramarital affair than by the fact of an extramarital affair. age difference. Rhaenyra was lucky in a way. I mean, before the war, Daemon was good to her. They spent a lot of time together, expensive gifts, compliments. Maesters love to discuss Daemon and Rhaenyra's relationship during the war, but before the war there was not a single mention of adultery in the ten years of marriage. Moreover, shortly before the war, Daemon and Rhaenyra conceived another child, and the entire time the princess was carrying Visenya, her husband was always nearby. And even at 49 years old, Daemon was still an attractive man.

Let's look at other couples.

Rhaenys and Corlys. The age difference between them is 21 years. Corlys is older than Rhaenys's father, Prince Aemon. But this did not bother anyone. The princess's grandfather himself, King Jaehaerys, approved of this marriage and stated that Rhaenys could not have chosen a better man. And Rhaenys was only 16 years old, while Corlys was 37 years old. She was his wife almost all her life. 39 years of marriage.

What do you think of the age difference between Corlys and the mother of his illegitimate sons? 44 years old. My grandfather was 44 when I was born. And it wasn’t even a one-night stand, since there were two children. The boys lived with their mother in the village, while Corlys did nothing for the boys' well-being over the years, as he was too afraid of his wife's reaction.

Next up are Princess Daella Targaryen and Lord Rodrik Arryn, who are 21 years apart in age. I admit, I don't feel any animosity towards this couple. After all, thanks to them, Aemma Arryn was born, and after Rhaenyra Targaryen. But there are some points that confuse me. First, the reasons why Daella chose Lord Arryn is that he reminds her of her father. The second thing is that, according to Alysanne, Rodrik loved the princess for many years and did not hide it. I'm sorry, many years? Daella was 16 when the wedding took place. How old was Daella when a thirty-year-old man and father of four children liked her? There's an even better question. If Alysanne knew that the councilman was in love with her daughter, who was younger than his own eldest daughter, then why didn't she do anything?

What will people say about Lady Baela Targaryen and Thaddeus Rowan, who was 40 years older than the girl? Here is his description.

"Lord Rowan is forty years my senior, bald as a stone, with a belly that weighs more than I do."

Every girl's dream, isn't it? Fortunately, Baela was able to avoid such a marriage, but Floris Baratheon was not so lucky. Thaddeus was 42 years older than the girl, and Floris herself got married at 14. To make matters worse, a few years later the poor girl died during childbirth.

What about between the engagement between Princess Viserra Targaryen and Lord Theomore Manderly, who was 30-40 years older than the bride? To make matters worse, he outlived four of his wives and had several heirs. Viserra would be doomed to spend the rest of her life in a foreign land, with an old and ugly husband, and her children, if they were born, would not receive any inheritance. I just can’t believe that such a marriage was arranged for a girl by her own mother.

Princess Daenerys Targaryen (daughter of Aegon the Unworthy) at the age of 15 married Prince Maron Martell, who was 14-25 years older than her. The marriage was an arranged one and, according to GRRM, Daenerys herself was in love with her illegitimate brother Daemon Blackfire. But at least it seems that Maron was kind to his wife, and Daenerys herself became the wife of the Prince of Dorne. I would like to believe that Daenerys was able to find happiness in this marriage.

Lysa Tully was born between 266 and 268. Her first husband, Jon Arryn, was born between 218 and 220. The age difference between them is almost fifty years. Jon was old enough to be a father to Hoster Tully, Lysa's father. I have never felt love for Lysa Arryn, but I feel sorry for her. She was unhappy almost all her life, and due to her past abortion, she was unable to become a mother for a long time. Jon was kind to wife and their marriage gave Lysa power over the Valley, but still the power did not make Lysa happy.

Daenerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo. Their age difference is somewhere between 15-20 years. GOT tried to romanticize this couple, but I don’t see romance. I apologize to the fans of this couple. But Dany is a real victim of Stockholm syndrome. I really feel sorry for fourteen-year-old Daenerys, who convinced herself that there was great love between her and Drogo.

Lord Walder Frey and his eighth wife Lady Joyeuse Erenford. Attention, the age difference between them is 74 years! Walder is an old and rude old man who has more than ten heirs. The poor girl will just waste her youth on her husband and be unhappy all her life.

Larra Rogare and Prince Viserys Targaryen. Their age difference is only seven years. Not as much as previous couples. Everything would not be so bad if Viserys was 16 years old and Larra 23, but no. When the couple got married, the prince was only 12 years old, and at 13 he became a father. This is normal?!

The next couple will surprise everyone. This is Maegor Targaryen and Ceryse Hightower, who was 10 years older than her husband. Then again, if Maegor was 16 and Ceryse was 26, everything would be fine. But Maegor was only thirteen. At that time, he had not yet become a murderer of relatives and a usurper, he was a child. Problematic, but still a child. I blame Aegon and Visenya for allowing their son to marry so early rather than wait at least two or three more years.

The point is that in Westeros marriages with large age differences constantly occurred. This is truly terrible. Some were able to find happiness in their marriage, some avoided it, some remained unhappy for the rest of their lives. This post may seem chaotic to some, but don't judge me. I got sick a little bit.

[kald-dal-art]

I'm assuming your headcanons for Morphling will be covered inside of your fanfic, but you mentioned having a lot for her, would you make a list of them?

Sure I can, because most people don't have all the time in the world to read a super long fic.

I headcannon her name is Maureen Trevi. She won the 49th Annual Hunger Games when she was 18 years old.

(so In Catching Fire she is around 44 years old btw :) )

Before getting reaped she did paint jobs for different vehicles at the same factory as her dad.

She lives with her dad and younger sister and she has an estranged mother.

The last time anyone from D6 won was the same year she was born so she didn't have very high hopes for herself. At the same time she kind of knew moping too much wasn't going to let her win

Her District partner was a 13 year old boy named Dev that had essentially given up before the games even started. Even being the first causality of the game. One of the rare times that last place and first place were from the same District.

The arena for her games was an overgrown humid forest.

During her games she mostly hid with camouflage and used poison to get a upper hand on the other tributes.

She killed 4 tributes during her games, has a lot of crippling guilt around that. Always kind of seeing herself as a coward for how she killed the other tributes.

Had a brief alliance with another tribute because they bonded during training, he unfortunately dies (well yeah duh)

Added to that he was the son of a former victor, so added fun having to see his mom every year afterwards.

Has a low key friendship with Haymitch because of how close their Victory are, and they relate to each other when it comes to the substance abuse problems.

Usually wears long sleeves or long sleeved gloves because she is tired of hearing complaints from capitol audience that they can see needle marks on her arms.

11 years after her Victory, during the 60th game, she was the mentor of a 16 year old boy named Cassius and he ended up winning.

Mostly having a similar strategy as her and even getting her to share the strategies she used for her games because he thought that was the best chance he had to survive.

Unfortunately he ends up pretty quickly following her path with getting attached to drugs to cope with the games and his new life as a Victor.

They mostly bond after the games with art. Her mostly preferring to paint landscapes and him mostly preferring to draw with pen and pencil.

Most of the paintings she has done is usually around landscapes and rather abstract stuff. Usually any excuse to play around with colors.

Also like to think their friendship is WLW and MLM solidarity. Too many fics have the Morphlings as a romantic couple and I am tired of it. Nothing wrong with that interpretation, but it feels very "man and woman is considered a duo, they must be a couple" kind of.

Here are some of the headcannons for her.

[sparrow-mask22]

The Umbrella Academy Story of The Mothers (3/8) umbrella edition: Victoria

TW: Childbirth, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Vomiting, Mentions of Fainting, Branding, and Reggie being a bad liar. (Also if anyone can find any foreshadowing on here comment on what you fin. Another note is I got all the mothers' names off of The Umbrella Academy Wiki)

October 1, 1989. Cape Town, South Africa. 27 seconds before noon.

Victoria Buys was a 44 year old fourth grade teacher at Dusi Discovey School in Cape Town, South Africa. She had always been a little different from the other teachers, she had a passion for history and literature that went beyond the classroom. Her students knew her as a kind and caring woman, but they also knew that she had a wild side to her that showed itself in her vivid storytelling and her love for adventure.

At 44 she has already given up on finding Mr. Right and decided to focus on her career. She lives alone in a small apartment, which she has decorated with antique furniture and books from her extensive collection. Her favorite spot in the apartment is the balcony, where she often spends her evenings sipping wine and admiring the view of the city skyline. She has never been one to dwell on regrets, but there is one thing she wishes she had done differently - have children.

"Hey Victoria," her friend and fellow teacher, Sarah, called out from across the room. "You okay, girl? You seem a bit distracted." Victoria turned to see Sarah watching her with a concerned expression. She forced a smile, trying to reassure her. "Oh, I'm fine. Just thinking about something." Sarah looked at her for a moment, then shrugged and went back to her own conversation with another teacher.

"I heard a rumor that they're going to close our school," Victoria finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "They want to turn it into a new shopping mall or something." Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, Vicky! I didn't realize it was that serious." She placed a comforting hand on Victoria's shoulder. "Don't worry, though. We'll fight this together. We'll find a way to keep our school open."

("I heard a rumor that your daughter will live by this same motto.")

Victoria forced a laugh, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Thanks, Sarah. I appreciate it. But you know how these things go. Sometimes, we just have to accept the inevitable." She glanced at her watch, realizing that it was almost time for the announcement. "Come on, let's head over to the auditorium and find out what's really going on."

As they walked to the auditorium, Victoria couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. She had devoted her entire life to teaching at Dusi Discovery School, and the thought of losing it was devastating. But as they took their seats among her colleagues and students, she tried to focus on the positive. Perhaps if they were able to find a new location for the school, they could rebuild and come back stronger than ever.

Headmistress Cele, a commanding figure with a presence that filled the room, took the stage. She cleared her throat and began to speak, her voice calm and authoritative. "Ladies and gentlemen, students and staff," she said. "We are gathered here today to discuss the future of our beloved school." There was an audible gasp from the crowd, and Victoria's heart sank.

The headmistress continued, "As you all know, the city council has been considering several proposals for the redevelopment of this area. Unfortunately, one of those proposals involves turning Dusi Discovery School into a shopping center." She paused, allowing the news to sink in. "But I am here today to tell you that we will not give up without a fight. We will explore every avenue, we will make our voices heard, and we will find a way to keep our school standing."

There was a collective gasp from the crowd, followed by murmurs of disbelief and dismay. Victoria felt a lump form in her throat as she tried to process the information. She glanced over at Sarah, who looked equally shocked and heartbroken.

Headmistress Cele continued, "I know this news is difficult to hear, but I want you all to know that we are not alone in this fight. We have the support of parents, alumni, and the wider community. Together, we will make our voices heard and ensure that our school remains a beacon of learning and growth for generations to come."

The headmistress then invited a representative from the city council to speak. The council member, a middle-aged man with a reassuring demeanor, addressed the crowd. "I understand how upsetting this must be," he began, "but I want you all to know that we are not here to simply demolish your school. We are here to improve the area for everyone who lives and works here. We want to create jobs, provide new facilities, and make this a place where people want to be. We want to work with you to find a solution that works for everyone."

As the council member spoke, Victoria tried to remain calm, but she could feel her heart racing. The auditorium was filled with a palpable tension, as students and teachers alike struggled to process the news. She glanced around at their faces, searching for a glimmer of hope, but found only uncertainty and fear.

Once the meeting was over, Victoria returned to her classroom, her heart heavy with worry but also determination. She took a deep breath and began to prepare for her lesson. The students, still reeling from the news, drifted into the room, their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief. Victoria knew that she had to be strong for them, to provide a sense of stability and normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

Victoria always liked to start her day by singing the African folk song "Umoja" with her students, as it reminded them of their unity and strength as a community. As they began to sing, their voices intertwining harmoniously, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Despite the uncertainty surrounding their school's future, she found solace in the knowledge that they were all in this together.

And with the whole apartheid situation and the ongoing tension in the country, Victoria knew that she had to be especially careful when teaching her class. She needed to make sure that she didn't say anything that could be misinterpreted, that could provoke any of her students or their parents. Being black made the stakes even higher; one wrong move and she could find herself in serious trouble.

"Alright class, today we are going to learn synonyms and antonyms," Victoria began, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. "But before we start, I want to remind you all of something important. We are a community, and we must always treat each other with respect and understanding. Even when we disagree, we must find a way to do so civilly."

She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. The students, ranging from five to eleven years old, looked back at her expectantly. Some fidgeted in their seats, while others leaned forward, eager to learn.

"We all have different opinions about what's happening with our school," Victoria continued, "but remember that we are all still part of this community. No matter what happens, we will face it together."

As she spoke, a young girl raised her hand hesitantly. "Miss Buys?" she asked. "Are you saying that we have to agree with each other, even if we don't want to?" Her name was Precious, and she was one of Victoria's brightest students.

Victoria smiled warmly at her. "No, Precious," she replied. "I'm not asking you to agree with someone just because they're part of our community. All I'm asking is that we respect each other's opinions and feelings. We can disagree without being disagreeable."

She paused, searching for the right words to explain further. "Think of it this way," she continued. "When you play a game with your friends, you might have different strategies or ways of playing. But you still play together and have fun, right?"

Precious nodded, her face brightening. "Yes, Miss Buys."

The clock struck noon, signaling the start of Victoria's class. As she walked down the hallway, her heart felt heavy with uncertainty. The news of the school's potential closure had left her reeling, and she knew that her students were just as anxious and confused. Today's lesson on synonyms and antonyms seemed trivial in comparison to the looming threat hanging over their heads.

Suddenly, Victoria instinctively placed her hand on her stomach. A sharp pain coursed through her body, and she gasped. The students in her class, oblivious to what was happening, continued with their lesson, unaware of the imminent arrival of a new life. Victoria struggled to remain composed, trying to hide her discomfort from them.

"Miss Buys?" one of the students asked, sounding alarmed. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly, Victoria dropped to her knees, the pain overwhelming her. The students gasped in unison, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. She placed a shaking hand on her stomach, feeling the contractions growing stronger by the second.

"S-Somebody go call 112!" one of the boys stammered, his voice barely audible over the sound of Victoria's labored breathing. The other students exchanged frightened glances, unsure of what to do. They had seen emergency situations on TV, but nothing quite like this.

"Victoria!" Sarah rushed over, her face pale with worry. She knelt beside her friend, feeling her forehead and then checking her pulse. "Oh my God, Victoria... you're in labor. We have to get you to the hospital!"

Victoria screamed in agony as another contraction ripped through her, clutching at her stomach. She couldn't believe this was happening. Just this morning, she had woken up feeling perfectly fine. Now, she was on the floor of her classroom, in the middle of a full-blown labor. Her students looked on in horror, their faces pale and their eyes wide with fear.

"B-But I thought I was going through early menopause," Victoria managed to gasp between contractions. She felt like she was being torn apart from the inside. Her students all between the ages of nine and eleven stared at her in horror, their eyes wide with fear and confusion.

A couple of kids cried, some vomited and more than one passed out as the horror of the situation set in. Victoria's own screams of agony filled the room as her body convulsed with each contraction. Sarah knelt beside her, feeling helpless, as she tried to comfort the young teacher. "Vicky, breathe with me, okay? Inhale... exhale...," she murmured, her voice shaking.

Sarah saw one kid in the corner of the room, looking terrified and about to faint. "Hey, you," she said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Go to the office and ask them to call an ambulance, okay?" The boy nodded shakily and bolted out of the room, his small hands trembling as he rushed down the hall.

Another contraction gripped Victoria, and she arched her back in pain, moaning. She tried to focus on Sarah's voice, but it seemed to be fading in and out. "I'm scared, Sarah," she whispered. "I didn't think this was possible. I thought I was going through early menopause."

Sarah stroked Victoria's hair, her own voice trembling. "It's going to be okay, Vicky. We're going to get you to the hospital, and everything's going to be fine. Just try to breathe through it."

Two other teachers, Ms. Adams and Mr. Martinez, rushed into the classroom, their faces pale with shock. They hurried over to Victoria and Sarah, helping the younger woman to sit up. "What's going on here?" Ms. Adams demanded, her voice shaking. "Why is the school in such an uproar?"

"She's in labor," Sarah explained, her voice breaking. "She didn't even know she was pregnant." The three teachers exchanged stunned glances, unable to believe what was happening.

"Because I 100% wasn’t pregnant this morning!" Victoria screamed, her voice cracking with panic and pain. She clutched at her stomach, feeling another contraction coming on. Her students, still looking terrified and confused, continued to stare at their teacher in horror.

The school nurse, Mrs. LaBelle, rushed into the classroom, to help with the kids who were having panic attacks and fainting. She immediately took charge, directing the other teachers to help the students who were in the worst shape. Victoria, still in shock, felt another contraction coming on.

"I'm going to need you to lie down, Victoria," Ms. Adams said gently, helping her to lie down on one of the desks. "We're going to get you to the hospital as soon as we can."

A surge of pain ripped through Victoria's abdomen, and she arched her back, gasping for breath. "I can't do this," she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. "I'm not ready." The contraction subsided, but her terror only intensified. She felt trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. "Sarah, I don't want to have my baby here," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I need to get to the hospital."

Sarah glanced around the chaotic classroom, her expression filled with concern. "I know, Victoria," she said gently. "But we need to stay calm and focus on breathing through these contractions. The ambulance should be here soon." She took Victoria's hand in hers, offering a reassuring squeeze.

Suddenly a babyish cry pierced the air, and Victoria's eyes went wide with shock. She saw  Sarah's face pale with fear, but there was also a mixture of awe and wonder. "It's a girl," Sarah whispered, reaching down to hold the tiny, wriggling form that had just emerged from Victoria's body. "A beautiful healthy girl." Tears streamed down Victoria's face as she stared at her child, unable to believe that she had just given birth, in a classroom, without any warning.

The paramedics arrived moments later, pushing their way through the chaos to reach Victoria and her newborn. They took over, quickly assessing her condition and tending to the umbilical cord. As they worked, Victoria was wheeled out of the classroom and into the ambulance. Sarah followed closely behind, holding the baby close to her chest.

The entire school seemed to be in an uproar, with students and teachers alike milling about in shock and disbelief. Headmistress Cele had arrived on the scene, looking visibly shaken. She gathered Victoria and Sarah in a quiet corner, away from the chaos, and spoke to them in hushed tones.

"Victoria, I want you to know that you did an amazing thing," she said, her voice wavering with emotion. "You showed incredible strength and resilience in the face of such a difficult situation. We'll make sure that both you and your baby are taken care of." Sarah nodded in agreement, tears streaming down her face as she cradled the tiny, perfect bundle in her arms.

The paramedics finished attending to Victoria, who was now sitting up in the ambulance, holding her baby close. The headmistress turned to the old man who had come to see Victoria. "Excuse me, sir, but I must ask what your relationship is to Victoria and the baby," she said, a note of caution in her voice.

The old man smiled gently and said, "Oh, I'm not related to her, Headmistress. In fact, I'm an eccentric billionaire and adventurer. I've been searching for the child who is one of many children born today from mothers who were not with child hours before. Victoria's case was rather... unique. I had a hunch that she might be the one. And lo and behold, she was. You see, I've been funding a secret research project for many years, and this child is the result of that research. Her birth, while unexpected and perhaps even miraculous, is actually part of a larger plan that will change the world. I just wanted to make sure she was alright."

The old man, who Victoria later learned was named Reginald Hargreeves, sat down next to her, his face filled with wonder and joy. He reached out to gently touch the baby's tiny hand, as if he couldn't quite believe that she was real. "This is an incredible moment," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I've been waiting for this day for so long."

Sarah scoffed at the old man's story, shaking her head. "I saw you have two other babies in there. What about them?" she asked suspiciously. "And what about Victoria's baby? What's going to happen to her?"

The old man chuckled and patted Victoria's shoulder gently. "Oh, don't worry, the child will have a lovely life with me. I've made provisions for her mother as well. You see, I understand that this must all seem very strange and overwhelming, but it's for the best. I promise you that your child will be well cared for, and she'll have a life filled with love, adventure, opportunity, siblings, a world-class education, and anything else money can buy. I've dedicated my life to making sure that she, and the others like her, have the best possible future. You did a brave thing, Victoria, and I want to honor that."

Victoria looked at the old man, tears still streaming down her face. She bit her lip, trying to decide what to say. The baby, now wrapped in a warm blanket, shifted slightly in her arms, and she felt a wave of protectiveness wash over her. She couldn't bear the thought of being separated from her child, but at the same time, she couldn't deny that the old man's offer was tempting.

The paramedics helped her out of the ambulance and into a waiting limousine. As she settled into the plush seat, she glanced over at Sarah, who was still looking skeptical. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I mean, I don't trust him, but what other choice do we have? We could try to find her ourselves, but I don't know how long that would take or if we'd even be able to find her. And even if we did, how could we afford to take care of her?"

Victoria sighed, brushing a tear from her cheek. "I just wish I knew what was going to happen to her," she said, looking out the window as the limousine pulled away from the hospital. She felt a pang in her heart as she thought about never seeing her daughter again. But then she remembered the old man's promise that the child would have a wonderful life, filled with everything she could ever want. And she couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope.

"Remember Victoria, if you try to find your daughter on your own, I will dispose of you on the spot." Reginald's voice was calm and even, but there was an unmistakable edge of steel beneath it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate gun, holding it casually by his side.

Victoria gasped, her eyes widening in fear. She felt the weight of the baby in her arms pressing down on her chest, as if reminding her of the stakes. She knew that she couldn't risk it; not only her life, but her child's life was at stake. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look the old man in the eye. "I understand," she said, her voice trembling. "But I just want you to know that I love her. I'll always love her. And I hope that you'll take good care of her, even though she's not yours."

As the words left her lips, she felt a surge of emotion well up inside her. Tears streamed down her face, obscuring her vision. Sarah, who had been sitting silently beside her, reached over and squeezed her hand reassuringly. But the grip of the old man's gun never wavered.

Victoria looked down at her sleeping daughter, feeling a surge of protectiveness wash over her. She knew that she could never forgive herself if anything happened to this precious little girl. Her eyes darted back to the old man, his cold, steely gaze fixed on her. She could see the unyielding determination in his eyes, and she knew that he meant every word.

"Sweetie, promise me if you ever have children of your own, you'll always protect them, no matter what," Victoria whispered to her sleeping daughter. Her voice cracked, but she forced the words out, knowing that this might be the last time she'd ever speak to her. She glanced over at Sarah, who was staring out the window, her face a mask of despair. The limousine sped down the winding country road, the sounds of the engine and the wind drowning out the distant cries of the city.

(Oh Victoria, if only you knew how Allison got Claire taken away...)

Victoria saw Reginald mark her daughter with a "III" on her arm. The old man then placed the crying baby girl on a blanket with two other babies, both marked with a “I" and a "II" on their arms. The babies were all about the same age as her own daughter, and they all seemed to be healthy and well taken care of. But still, the sight was heart-wrenching for Victoria.

As Victoria's child cried, she felt the weight of her daughter's fate pressing down on her. She wanted to reach out and comfort her, to promise that everything would be alright, but she knew that those words would be meaningless. Instead, she forced herself to remain calm and focused, trying to process the information that Reginald had just given her.

The baby with a "I" on his arm absentmindedly touched the hand of Victoria's daughter, who instantly ceased her cries. She seemed to take comfort in the other baby's presence. Victoria exhaled shakily, her heart still racing from the weight of the old man's threat. She could feel Sarah's hand squeezing hers reassuringly, but it did little to calm her nerves.

Even if it was only for a few minutes, Victoria was glad to finally be the mother she always yearned to be. She cradled her daughter in her arms, running her fingers through the baby's soft, silky hair. The gentle rocking motion of the limousine lulled the child to sleep, and for a brief moment, Victoria could almost pretend that nothing was wrong.

But then she remembered the old man's words. She couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine at the thought of what would happen if she tried to defy him. She knew he meant business. He had killed before, and she had no doubt that he would kill her without a second thought if she tried to go against his wishes.

(If you like this story) feel free to reblog, share, and comment.

[strawberryicebreakers]

HELLO i hope this ask finds u well :]

so not to be annoying or anything but out of curiosity (and immense unending passion for the topic and also your fanfic) is there a chance the uhf fic will finish? not like, right now or in a month, but just in general :)) sorry ive read the draft like 10 times by now and yknow lol :)) have a lovely day from the weird al fans of tumblr!!

hello!!! your ask finds me in one of my labs, hunkered down between classes.

it's completely alright to ask! there's always a chance I'll go back to any of my drafts [including anything I've posted to ao3 and unfortunately abandoned over the years], but I'm still working on my longer ted lasso fic [which is now at 123k! very weird to know I wrote that much] and I'm a bit worried that trying to revisit an older draft might knock me out of my groove before I finish it.

that being said! I still do incredibly appreciate all the love you + others have given the draft so far; it's so sweet to see people so passionate about something I'm playing around with [and I think of the one comic that was drawn nearly every day]. there's a scene or two that're further down the plot of the story than I wrote in the draft [ergo, doesn't take place right where the draft stops] but I'd still love to share it as a thank-you. as always, it's very unedited, very rough, but hopefully something to y'all will enjoy. :) have a nice day as well!

Sinatra wasn’t the worst to listen to, but when it seemed as though all the radio stations in Oklahoma could loop through were the man’s Christmas albums, Robert could understand why some people would have a grudge against the guy. It’d been an hour and a half of Sinatra, Sinatra, and even more Sinatra, slowly driving a wedge into whatever Christmas spirit he still had at the ripe-old age of twenty-five. 

Teri’s parents lived all the way in the suburbs of Oklahoma City, a far cry away from his and George’s apartment in Tulsa. Usually, the traffic would make him wish for a day where faster-than-light travel was the norm, but at two in the morning on Christmas Day, I-44 had been all but deserted.

Even with the lights strung ‘round each house, little reindeer pulling plastic sleighs that gleamed back under his headlights, Robert had to turn his brights on to see the house numbers. His car slowed to a crawl, creeping through the picture of perfect suburbia. 

Each house was perfect in its own right; a blanket of snow on each lawn, a wreath on each door, a brand new car or two in each driveway. He’d bet his life savings that all (save one or two) of the houses had perfect families, too. A husband and his wife, their two kids, an overexcited dog or a temperamental cat. 

It used to nauseate him, seeing places like this, knowing this would be his life. That he’d be the father waking up on Christmas to a wife wrapped around him, that he’d have to -, do things with her that he didn’t want to think about doing. 

He shuddered, chilled despite his heater working overtime and then some. Usually, his car was on the colder side ‘cause Robert ran hot, but George was more delicate than he was. He hadn’t grown up in Oklahoma, wasn’t used to how cold the winters got. If George had it his way, they’d live in a damn blast furnace from the second the temperature began to drop. 

He parked, an inch from the curb of the nicest house he’d ever seen, staring at a mailbox that someone’d painted “The Cambells” on in curly, vintage font. 

With a pre-emptive cringe, he honked his horn, quick as he could. It was what he’d told George he’d do when he got here, letting him know he was good to run out. 

Robert stared at the door, waiting to see the familiar head of curls he’d grown fond of. He didn’t know what to expect, not after getting a frantic phone call at half-past midnight, begging for him to pick him up. 

There was a joke somewhere in there, that George got lucky that Robert’s a night owl, but before he could hoot down the phone, he’d realized George was serious. It wasn’t some midnight worry, not a kid asking his mom to pick him up ‘cause he can’t sleep without a certain blanket. 

George knew how far the drive was, how miserable it’d be to drive in the middle of the night. He knew how bad it’d be for him and Teri if he disappeared without goodbye.

And yet, he called.

Robert didn’t think there’d ever be a time in his life where he wouldn’t answer.

[veradragonjedi]

alright here i go

for the weird ask: 5, 11, 18, 20, 30, 33, 44, 55, 61, 69, 76, 83, 94, 98

(mwahahahaa)

omg

5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Cans... that little *crrrk* *hissssss.......* augh!! And then you can crunch them when you're done. Marvellous. Thank you inventor of the aluminium can.

11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day?

Salmon bagel :))

18. Ideal weather?

WARM! Let my bones rest 😭 warm very warm but with shade and cold drinks and all that jazz.

20. Preferred place to write?

My phooone. No laptop, though a note pad suffices if my phone is out of reach. All 300k words of bbb (that's plus unposted possible chapters) was done on my phone. with my fingers.

30. Places you find sacred?

THIS PLACE!

BIG tree! Hundreds of years old. Four swings hanging from the branches! Howw many people sat there? Carved their names into it to be immortalised, swung on those swings?? The energy there.

I'm not a religious person, but if I were, I'd worship the tree.

33. Most used phrase in your phone?

Augh this one's difficult because it implies I am conscious of what I put down but its probably omg

Like on its own. Or HELP that one's common.

44. Favourite scent for soap?

I bought @airlocksandaviaries some nice soap one time and bought myself some Lily-of-the-Valley soap. And I have Not used mine because I like the scent so much...

55. Favourite fairytale?

Always been a fan of the tragic ones. The ones that were originally deep and dark and nasty, before they became Disney-fied. The original Rapunzel was nice, not that I don't like the new one, but it was nice. The original message behild Little Red Riding Hood — a young girl flowering into womanhood who is approached by a strange older man who wants to make her his — has always fascinated me because !!! Argh beast metaphors and hunger and. Yeaaahhhh bbbcore..

61. Favourite flowers?

Orchids are nice. Tulips were for a while!

Recently I found THESE

Black petunias!! I tool them because they're JUST LIKE ME FR! And they smell awful, like burnt rubber and bleach, but I LOVE THEM!!!!!!

69. A Fun Fact that you don't know how you learned?

@chaetophractus-vellerosus — most doors are universally 6 foot 9 inches, so it's easy to guess someone's height based on whether they have to bend through a door. Finch, I asked my friend where we had found that out, and apparently I knew it Before we had used it to work out Drew Gooden's height. So. I actually dunno where the information came from.... got that doortism though.

76. Favourite potato food?

AAAUGGHGH POTATOEEESSSS!!!!!!!! I like fried potatoes, I had real patatas fritas like a month ago and almost died it was so tasty. I like all manner of potatoes though. Give me the potatoes...

83. Writing or Drawing?

Both? Both!! I absolutely adore putting my thoughts onto a canvas. Whether that be a digital one where I'm throwing notes at a wall and seeing what sticks or a physical one where I'm just figuring everything out by swiping paint on white paper.

94. Favourite season?

SUMMER! Ironic because in Britain we (used to...) don't get very hot summers. We're almost there folks!

98. Favourite historical era?

A question I'm not sure I know the answer to! Dropped history almost as soon as I started it, to take geography instead, so I'm gonna say the devonian era and be done with that:)) (that's when bony fish were evolved and doing their thing with no dinosaurs to tell them what not to do)

CHOCO. I LOVE YOUU !!!!!

[epicrox]

Till The End Of The Moon Thoughts - Episode 2

WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW

PARTS: 1.1 | 1.2 | 2 |

This is mostly for me to look back on and see the moments that I caught my eye. Nothing analytical. I offer nothing to the table

I'm also a visual person so there's a lot of screenshots x

This is called my thoughts because I refuse to call what I'm writing down as a review. Reviews inform people and this post does nothing for people.

I’ve seen posts on Tumblr calling Tantai Jin a Disney princess cuz he’s being mistreated and talks to animals 🤨

The scenery is so pretty.

3. There seem to be Chinese subtitles on the right side of the screen indicating that background music is playing but I think they cut it out because I’m not hearing anything. Maybe it’s because I’m watching it on YouTube. I don’t know about other platforms.

4. Yeah, they cut the music now and it just sounds awkward and empty.

5. Omg she’s just leaving him there! Aren’t you supposed to keep him alive?

6. He legit looks like an old man because of the snow.

7. This man looks so delicate.

8. Even at the brink of getting hypothermia, he looks like he has a better chance of getting a modelling contract than me.

9. Disney Princess indeed.

10. Bingchang looks really sweet. I’m praying she doesn’t turn out evil or two-faced.

11. Wtf is this crow’s voice?!

12. It sounds like a demonic robot. This further proves my point about this show being sci-fi.

13. The crow’s basically a camera.

14. Then don’t let him die! That celestial being never told you to kill him and didn’t even mention the evil bone, your dad did. He literally told you that Tantai Jin’s torment and death triggered his demonic powers. All you need to do is prevent that! And what do you mean he deserves this?! He hasn’t done anything yet!

15. Her strategy is irritating me.

16. It looks like she’s cradling a head. Just the head.

17. I love that he just had to faint for her to understand the severity of the situation.

18. Wtf is that? His subconscious?

19. This demonic being reminds me of that demon that trains Luo Binghe after he gets pushed off the cliff.

20. He wants Tantai Jin to give him his soul to allow him eternal peace? Does he want to use Tantai Jin’s body as a vessel?

21. It’s the 2nd episode and we’ve got Xi Wu feeling him up.

22. Ma’am, how are you sleeping with that on your head?

23. She even got her dangly earrings on!

24. Get over what?

25. Ha! Xi Wu is having thoughts.

26. So am I.

27. She beats him?!

28. Why am I surprised?

29. OG!Xi Wu was an evil person.

30. The fact that she is hesitating about hitting him! Put the whip down! Even though he’ll see you’ve changed and would make him suspicious, at least he’ll be happy about not getting whipped.

31. She cares more about staying in character than changing the past.

32. At least take the gear off before you go to sleep.

33. After literally TORTURING HIM, you're worried for his health. It seems you’ve figured out actions have consequences.

34. AHHH!!!

35. Also as an otherworldly being, deity or whatever she is, Xi Wu can be really dense. I’d understand if she didn’t know how some things worked in the mortal world but for someone responsible for saving the world, your strategy is confusing.

36. I know she’s grieving for what had happened but she can prevent tragedies if she were a little smarter.

37. Is that even comfortable? I’ve always envied my parents for being able to sleep while sitting down because for some reason I can’t.

38. Awww. I love how confused he is.

39. He’s so delicate (This man is over 10 years older than me).

40. Yes, she’s possessed.

41. Just like villainess stories, is she hated by her family?

42. Oh no. She seems to be the favourite. Makes sense since the OG!Xi Wu was running around making trouble without much consequence. How can you be punished for your actions if you’re the Apple in your family’s eyes?

43. Also how many concubines does Xi Wu’s dad have? Does Bingchang and Xi Wu have different mothers?

44. It’s very clear from the beginning that the eldest brother is going to be useless.

45. Ze Yu just vanished. And make Xi Wu apologise to Bingchang. OG!Xi Wu must’ve thought she was entitled to everything. Bingchang must feel ostracised by her own family.

46. Wow, even the kitchen boys are bullying him. They’re probably gonna get beaten by Xi Wu and zapped when Tantai Jin gets into power.

47. This whole thing must be so humiliating as a prince.

48. How is he working in the kitchens and doing dishes while looking so pristine?

49. Is that ice?

50. Are they purposefully making him wash dishes in ice-cold water? Or is it something people did historically?

51. HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING YET. But he’s going to.

52. I’m not sure you’re aware of this but you’re in the body of his abuser. Of course, he’s avoiding you. Like didn’t you whip him last night?

53. Also, you haven’t spent long enough in that body to make this statement.

54. Yep. I think they put the ice in to torment him.

55. This reminds me of a trope you mostly see in isekai mangas/manhwas where the ML is so rude and aloof towards the FL that all the servants start to think they can do it too.

56. One thing that irks me about these tropes (it irks a lot of other people too) is that when the FL begins to stand up for herself against the servants, she slaps them.

57. Ooh, the music changed.

58. Not only does he speak to robotic crows, but he’s also talking to flies. Or was that a wasp?

59. I was under the impression Tantai Jin would commit murder but he just made the head cook (I think) swallow a fly. His reaction after swallowing the fly would have made you think he was being poisoned or choked.

60. It’s funny that she’s lecturing the staff about how rude they are even though this whole time she kept on saying he deserved it. You left him in the cold and whipped him. You know he’s a captured prince.

61. She’s putting all the blame on the servants rather than saying that OG! Xi Wu and even herself were wrong.

62. Instead of Xi Wu slapping them, they’re slapping themselves.

63. “If I had dignity, I would’ve died years ago” He really is a Disney princess.

64. More specifically, Cinderella. I saw a video essay from a channel called The Take. They talk about how people victim blame Cinderella a lot for not fighting back her abusers. In one part of the video, they talked about how Cinderella allows the abuse to continue as it is very likely that her stepmother would kick her out if she acted out.

65. Tantai Jin doesn’t know that the Xi Wu in front of him is not the original. So if I were him, I’d be more cautious about what type of food Xi Wu feeds me than the servants. Although, OG!Xi Wu could’ve ordered the servants to poison Tantai Jin’s food.

66. This man gives me Jin Xixun vibes or Mo Xuanyu’s cousin who died in the first episode of MDZS/The Untamed.

67. Oh, this is hard to watch.

68. That guy threw the cake on the ground and then stepped on it. Even if I was hungry I could never take a bite of it. It took me a while to even eat/drink something that someone else touched with their hand or mouth.

69. Is she drugged or drunk?

70. omg

71. They kissed! And we’re on the 2nd episode. I know it isn’t the FL but still. I count it.

72. Ok, they’re drugged.

73. I remember the two actors were together in a previous drama and there was a make-out scene that everyone freaked out about. So I assume they know what they’re doing in this drama.

74. So someone tried to make Bingchang and Jin Xixun prince spend the night together by drugging them but instead, they both ate it. It was 100% OG! Xi Wu.

75. Oh wait, they actually did it? But they’re clothed.

76. He has every right to be suspicious of you and the food you’ve given him.

77. Gosh. That crow’s voice is terrifyingly comedic. I giggle every time it opens its beak.

78. Tantai Jin is definitely planning something.

79. At least he’s pretty while doing it. Look at this shot.

80. This king looks familiar. Wasn’t he the emperor from Ashes of Love?

81. Tantai Jin is definitely ripping his head off.

82. This whole political drama is going to push Tantai Jin to join the dark side.

[jerzwriter]

some asks for carolina x trystan :))

31: Most prized possession?

35: What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

44: Superstitions or views on the occult?

Thanks so much for sending these! :)

From this list.

31: Most prized possession?

For Carolina, it would definitely be something of her father's, perhaps a watch or a ring that he always wore. And a card he gave her on her birthday. He wasn't big on cards, but he gave her a very sweet one and wrote a heartfelt inscription on the last birthday they shared together. I really want to come up with an HC for her mother - because she may be in here as well - but I'm so scared Book 3 will cover it and muck things all up. lol

For Trystan, I'm going to say some old drawings he has from childhood. They were pictures he drew with some of his siblings, during a simpler time, when the animosity between them hadn't developed yet. When he looks at them, he imagines a world where things could have gone differently, and in some weird way, it brings him peace.

I am sure he treasures a few letters he received from Julianna. He would keep them in a very special place and would take them out to read each year on her birthday.

Lastly, a photo of Carolina - I'm not going to say much more about it because I want to write a fic about it - but it signified a very big moment in their relationship, and he prints it out, frames it, it will remain one of his favorite things forever.

35. What do they enjoy but consider to be a waste of time?

Trystan's answer would be absolutely nothing. He'd argue that if it brings you joy, it's never a waste of time. (I kind of agree, lol)

But Carolina is more, well, Carolina. She doesn't mind a good social media scroll or maybe going on YouTube after a long day. But she can fall down that rabbit hole, and before she knows it, she looks up, and 2 hours have passed. She will literally curse at herself because she thinks it is a total waste of time.

44: Superstitions or views on the occult?

Oh, this is a tough one! After dealing with The Hand of Mahra, these two will want to stay as far away from anything cult related as possible.

But superstitions... I'm part Greek, and I know my family was insane with the evil eye. Some still are. I can see Drakovia having its own version, and though he's embarrassed to admit it, Trystan kind of always has one on him. Now, the evil eye is only supposed to protect you if it is a gift; it cannot be something you buy yourself. So if his goes missing, he has to get someone to buy him a new one. Mags was his go-to for this, but now Carolina is dragged in, too. Now, there is a little shop in the Bryant Park Holiday Market that only sells evil eye jewelry and such (I go there frequently lol). I can see Carolina going there at Christmastime and buying like 30 to keep stashed in her room. This way, when Trystan is freaking out because he lost one, she just goes to her closet and is like, "Here!" lol (Now I want to write that fic! lol)

Carolina really doesn't believe in superstitions, at least not anymore. She's seen so many bad things she doesn't think anything can ward them off. That said, she does have two things she does every New Year's Eve. One, at midnight, she eats 12 grapes the moment the clock strikes twelve. She makes everyone with her do the same, and Trystan will just have to wait for that kiss! After the grapes (and kiss), they run to the front door and throw a bucket of water outside. Both of these are commonly done in certain Latine cultures. I don't think she feels they usher in good or bad luck, but it's part of her culture, and she's very attached to the tradition, so she takes it very seriously.

Thank you so much for the great asks! :)

[lucifer-kane]

Little post 44 years Warren and Gordon piece, some domestic bliss of two 46 year olds in their new home.

-----

"You know, while I was out at the shops today, people were saying have a good dinner with your husband, and I didn't have the heart to tell them that we're not exactly that sort of... couple?" Gordon stumbles over the last word and makes a face. They're not a couple, but they're also not not one as well. Warren laughs from where he's doing the dishes, turning to grab a couple of the bags from Gordon to set down to unpack.

"With the way they see us interact in public, it could be counted in the 'bickering old couple' category. That's just a bit easier to explain than 'We're life partners, but not romantic, because romance is not for me specifically. Yes, even though you may have seen me kiss him in public, that is just how our relationship works.'" Warren makes a face. "They'll deal, it's funny anyways."

"Mmhm. Also, some of the kids are gonna come over this weekend, they wanna see Waffles."

"Of course they wanna see Waffles, she's the best thing this town has!" Warren says, turning to start putting things in the fridge. "Plus you're really good at telling them about stuff about her and all that. It's cute." Gordon starts handing him stuff with a shrug.

"Kids are easy to impress, it's sweet when they light up when learning about things too."

"Did you ever think about kids, back in the day?"

"Not really, back before everything went down, I always told myself that it just would depend on the guy I ended up with. If he wanted kids, sure, if not, that was fine too. Would have been cool as hell to teach them stuff and show them things I liked when I was younger though." Gordon pauses for a moment, not sure if he should ask Warren the same thing. "What about you?" Warren shuts the door of the fridge, pausing to look at the dry goods on the table for a second.

"I never gave much thought about it, when I did it was more of a thing of. I didn't want to mess them up, with all my baggage. Once... the incident happened, I never thought about it again, obviously. I don't think I'd change my opinion, but if things were to change, I think a kid wouldn't be a bad idea, just so I can prove I could be a better parent." He shakes his head. "But nah, I'm good with just watching the kids in town, that's enough for me, I get tired just watching them sometimes." Both men laugh.

"I always think about that one twelve year old girl that I think has every other kid younger than her wrapped around her finger. She's so commanding."

"A damn born leader." The two get the rest of the bags unloaded and put away, and Warren leans against the counter, looking at Gordon with a fond smile, who was milling about the kitchen trying to figure out what to make for dinner that night.

"What about a dog?"

"A dog? Like for us?" Gordon turns to look at Warren.

"Yeah, nothing too big, maybe like. In between a small one and a medium one."

"A smedium one." Warren reaches out and smacks Gordon lightly on the back, rolling his eyes, making him let out a booming laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think another pet would be a good idea, I think one would be good for you in general. You love waffles, but I think a dog would be better."

"I was thinking the same thing, we'll... we'll go looking here in a bit." Gordon nods.

"Sounds like a plan."

[tsuki-sennin]

Episode 44! Na-Go gets her final form, apparently!

It's so bizarre to me to see a female Rider penned by Takahashi of all people get so much love, considering how underutilized Poppy and especially Valkyrie were, but I admit I've been very pleasantly surprised by how much I loved Neon all throughout this season. ...I'm a little conflicted on the design, but

Oh, and uh... Spoilers, I guess...

-The phrase "be careful what you wish for" comes to mind.

-I just realized that Gya-Go's helmet is retooled from Seeker's. ...I feel a little sad knowing that, I really wish he got the chance to come into the main series for a bit the way Falchion did. I can see him being something of an inverse of how Bacht was in Saber. Er uh, Bahato. Sorry, I'm not a big fan of that romanization.

-It took you far too long to acknowledge that fact, Old Man Kousei.

-Now that's just gutwrenching.

-Whoa, claw!

-Good job, Kasahara-san. You've still got it.

-Akari...

-Fuck, man...

-For personal reasons I have no real desire to weigh in on the discussion on how this whole arc surrounding Neon and her family was handled, but...

-Man, Kousei. You've got a long road ahead of you before you can even try to make amends. Not just with Neon, but everyone who ever played this game.

-Oh, never mind that, the Fox Man is here!

-Oh what do you know about this world, Kekera?

-Hello, Michinaga. ...yeah, I'm calling you by your name again.

-I have to wonder, did Tohru resurrect in all the chaos?

-All we can do is play Beroba and Jitto's game better than them.

-Ohhhhh, I see. Powered with belief, like any good god.

-...I wonder if the Invess have their own religion surrounding Mai and Kouta?

-Tsumuri...

-No shit they'd kidnap Neon, Keiwa!

-You heard her constantly torturing Neon, man!

-I like how it's ambiguous that Keiwa

-Michinaga, whaddup man?

-The cow man has beef.

-Playing the DGP's game.

-Goddamn, whipping out the special first thing!

-Not even the Shogun's men stick around when he's off to war.

-God, I still can't get over how the Bujin is just a Real-Ass Goddamn Sword.

-Do you believe in Ace Ukiyo?

-Going foxhunting.

-"Then why do you still look so miserable?" :(

-All it took for the Shogun to rule was a few terrible lies and one terrible miscalculation.

-Hello, Irumi.

-You've also got a bajillion things to make up for.

-Gya-Go's core...

-"Give that back to the fox man, Neon."

-Wish granted?

-Oh, hi Beroba.

-"I have a job to do. It's my responsibility."

-Honey, I sincerely doubt you bought that gun of yours.

-Ohhhhhhhh

-Neon Kurama. Kamen Rider Na-Go!

-Welcome back to the game.

-Ohhhhh, that's good.

-Fantasy!

-Ready...

-Fight!

-Holy shit, she's a wizard.

-Oooooh, right where it hurts!

-Oh man, this is super disorienting.

-Ooooooogh.

-Goddamn, that's a finisher.

-Premium L.

-Off she goes.

-Down.

-"How's that despair treating you?"

-It's only right that Michinaga get in on this too.

-That's seven years bad luck right there, Beroba.

-Thanks, Jesus~!

-"Beroba's dead, man."

-...well, that's exactly how Keiwa's Inner Demon looked in Movie Battle Royale. ...think I'm gonna keep calling him the Shogun for a while. All the power and

-DA-PAAN?????

-HE'S STILL AROUND????

-Damn, I guess PunkJack's not transforming again until the new movie.

-Oh hello.

-You're Mela, the villain of the movie. Cross Geats, I believe your form is called.

-Somehow we always knew it'd come to this. And yet we

-That was quite exciting, wasn't it?

-Man... I'm not prepared for next episode.