#Part of the problem with the ceiling fan story was that I was trying to fill a prompt that was like start with this line

[tiixij]

A good horror writing exervise for ideas is taking the least threatening thing you can think of and try to make it terrifying. Like it will be silly at first but it at least gets the brain going.

I actually did try to do something like this once! It was about ceiling fans but it never really got anywhere unfortunately. I might try to do something like that again

[tokkiwrites]

summary: Santiago works most days, so that doesn't leave a lot of room for the two of you. but he always finds time to teach you a lesson when you're bad. tags: masturbaton, retraints, orgasm denial, voyeurism( in a way), cum eating, dry humping, spit, slapping, degradation, relationship problems (??) but they work it out in the end. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! here's the second story for you freaky bunnies, shorter with only 2.03k words, but i hope you enjoy it!

You sit by the window, the soft hum of the fan, the only noise in the otherwise silent apartment. Outside, the sun is hanging low in the sky, casting long, lazy shadows across the street. You sigh, leaning back against the worn-out cushions, eyes tracing the same lines of the ceiling that you've stared at countless times before.

Santi’s at work again. He’s always at work. It feels like you’ve been living in two different worlds for a while now—his, filled with busy days and deadlines, and yours, here, waiting, day after day.

You glance at your phone, half-hoping to see a message, maybe something spontaneous. But the screen stays blank. Another hour passes, and you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing in on you. Time moves differently when you're alone—slower, heavier. You’ve already cycled through all the usual distractions: TV, scrolling mindlessly, flipping through an old book you barely care about.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When you first moved in together, everything seemed full of possibility. Nights spent talking until you fell asleep, lazy mornings together. But now, it's as if Santi is slipping into the cracks between the hours, a ghost in the space you share. It's been about three weeks since you last had sex. It wasn't so important, nor such a long time, but you kind of missed feeling wanted. You give into your sad state, memories of nights where he showed you how much he wants you, the way he indulged into youㅡ how you always stuck to his every command, wanting nothing other than to please him.

and you are needy.

Slowly, your hand creeps into your lazily tied sweatpants and under your panties; just those few thoughts of Santiago on top of you have got you dripping with arousal. You mutter a soft curse under your breath as you start drawing slow circles onto your bud. Quiet moans slip your parted lips, back arching against the couchㅡ time stops for a bit; you feel as you did the time you first met him. fantasizing about what he'd do to you.

The sound of the front door opening snaps you from your thoughts and actions, but you don’t move right away. Instead, you stay like that, splayed out on the couch, waiting. anticipating.

"Hey," he says softly, finally stepping into the living room. His voice is calm and familiar, but there's a hint of exhaustion behind it. You don’t immediately respond, waiting for his reaction, and, oh, do you get one. "What are you doing?" he finally asks, taking in your state. "Dunno..." You play clueless, dragging the word out as if it’s too much hand still in that same place. "What's it look like?"

He narrows his eyes slightly, caught between amusement and bewilderment. "You waitin' for me, baby?" You just shrug, not really giving him much, enjoying the way he’s trying to figure you out. “Maybe I am.” His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can see that familiar spark in his eyes—the one that used to light up when the two of you would banter like this, teasing, pushing each other. he's hungry for you.

"You know you just gotta ask. I always give you what you want." you sigh. "Yeah...but not anymore." he chuckles, throwing off his jacket onto the nearby ottoman. "I think you're just being a brat. Maybe I've spoiled you too much." you try to sit up from the couch, but he's quick to push you back down, eyes roaming over your body. "I don't fuck you for two weeks, and this is what i get, baby? when all i do is work forㅡ god." he smiles, "you know you got me wrapped around your little finger."

"It's been three weeks." You say the words before you can stop them. "Oh?" he coos. "Is that what this is about?" Santiago lowers his head, his lips so close to yours you can feel his breath. you want to kiss him so bad it actually hurts, but before you can do or say anything, he breaks the silence with a stern tone. "Take of my belt."

"sorry?" your eyes widen a bit, but he cuts you off quickly. "Excused. Take it off, now." You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat, but his presence, so close, so commanding, makes it impossible to resist. With trembling hands, you reach for his belt buckle, the weight of the moment making every second feel like an eternity.

The belt finally comes undone with a quiet click, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Santiago’s expression is unreadable, his eyes dark and intense stare that pricks at your skin. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hand as he takes the belt from you. The ache of wanting him so badly nearly overwhelms you, but he holds you there, suspended in the moment.

"Good," he says quietly, "On your knees." The need to obey him surges within you, stronger than anything you've felt before. It's an overwhelming pull, not just because of his commanding presence, but because something about the way he speaks, the fire in his eyes, makes it impossible to resist. Every word he utters demands your attention, your submission, as if disobedience isn’t even an option.

"gimme your hands, pretty girl."

It's not just about what he's asking—it's about the control he holds over you in that moment, the power he has. And the truth is, you don't just feel compelled to follow his commands. You want to. So you kneel in front of him. Without a word, he folds the leather in half, and before you can fully process what's happening, he grabs your wrists gently, pulling them together. The cool leather slides against your skin as he wraps the belt around your wrists, tightening it just enough to make your pulse quicken.

His movements are slow, deliberate, as though savoring the control he's taking. Your breath hitches, and all you can focus on is the feeling of restraint, the belt holding you in place. The heat between you rises, and your heart races. Santiago pulls the belt tighter with a firm tug as he speaks up again. "Now you sit and watch." and your eyes widen as he plops down on the couch in front of you, all whilst undoing his pants.

His large hand slides into his trousers, finally setting free his aching shaft. He stares you dead in the eyes as he wraps a tight grip around it, and with slow motions, he starts touching himself. Santiago’s low moans fill the room. you can feel yourself dripping more and more as the moments settle. You wanted to move closer to help him, but his gaze was keeping you in place. "And here I was thinking you were being a good girl while I'm gone, turns outㅡ" he moans "turns out you're a needy whore. is cock all you think about, hm?"

"santi, please.." You whine, bringing your tied wrists up, as if praying. "I'm sorry, please... untie me so I can help.." he can only laugh through strained moans as he pumps himself faster. "Doesn't work like that, baby." it was excruciating, watching him do it all whilst you were on your knees, trying to get off just by rubbing your thighs together. you bit down your moans; he'd never done something like this. yes, he did punish you, but not to this extent. he usually gave into your pleads in two seconds topsㅡ maybe this was his way of showing you that he's still full of surprises even after all this time.

You can feel yourself practically drooling as Santiago put on a show. You see him throw his head back, hips bucking in the air. he was close to finishing and no matter how shameful it felt, your mouth was watering.

"C'mere." Santiago’s voice makes you jump. You nod, trying your best to crawl towards him with your wrists retrained, knees weak. He'd never seen you so desperate. "Openㅡ Wider!" You obey every word, waiting. With a few more moves from his wrist, he lays white ropes all over your blushed face and onto your tongue, the sudden feeling making you scrunch up your face. with his index finger, he closes your jaw for you. "swallow." and you do. with that same finger, he gathers the rest of his seed from your face, urging it into your mouth. "Come on, openㅡ there you go." he praises as he smears the substance on your tongue. The man makes you stay like that, mouth agape, catching you off guard when you feel him spit inside of it. Santiagos rough palm makes contact with your cheek in a harsh slap before he grabs you by the face. "Close it." You do as you're told, tears rolling down your stinging skin. when he's satisfied, he leans back on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Clean it up." he points to his shaft with little effort. you've never been so content and grateful in your whole life. With the urgency, you wrapped your lips around him, earning a soft laugh from the man. as you settle between his things, you manage to sneak your tied hands between your legs for better access to your aching cunt. you were almost there, so close, but it all fades away when Santiago kicks your hands away withhis foot, and tugs at your hair. "Don't get fucking greedy now. You don't get to come now. You do when I let you." you whine some incoherent pleads, protesting, before he sinks your head down again.

"Maybe this is what you need. I need to keep you tied and on your knees, make you suck this cock every time i come from work. you'd like that?" you moan around his length, all messy and teary-eyed. "Yeah, baby, i know- look at you." he slaps your cheek again. "You're all happy when you have my dick in your mouth." you can feel his foot creep up between your thighs, and you gasp for air as you feel it rub against your clothed folds. you try to move your hips for more contact, all whilst your tongue lulled out and around Santiago’s shaft. "There she is.." he tuts, tangling his fingers into your hair, parting your mouth away from him, a long string of saliva latching on. you gasp and rub against him, vision hazy and brain too fuzzy to say anything more. warmth pools at your stomach, the pulsing need making you tightly close your eyes but another slap to the face makes you look up. "You look at me. Like that-" you frantically rub against his foot, nails digging into your own palms. "Dirty fucking girl."

" ㅡ'm gonna come" You manage to choke out. "Go ahead. make me proud, baby" it's all you needed; you let go, millions of fireworks going off in your stomach as you writhe at his feetㅡ a soft string of 'thank yous' as you cry, forehead pressed against his thigh. you sit for a moment, the only sound ringing faintly in your ear as you come down from your high.

He leans in, placing a hand on the crown of your head, his voice softening. "You know I’m still here, right?" The tension that had been building up inside you eases in an instant, the warmth of him beside you, reminding you of all the reasons why you’ve waited. You tilt your head, resting it lightly on his palm, your fingers brushing against his leg.

"I know," you murmur. "It just gets hard when you’re not around so much."

Santi’s arm slips around your waist, pulling you up in his arms. "I’ll try to do better," he whispers, lips brushing your temple. "Promise." You don’t need a big conversation, not right now. Just this—the quiet, the closeness, and the feeling that, for a moment, things are the way they used to be.

"santi, 'm still tied." you finally speak up, head on his chest. "I know, baby. I'm not done with you." he'll make up for those three weeks.

[n3xxs]

𓆩𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𓆪

General! Lilia x Gender neutral! Reader.

Fluff, a little bit of angst

SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND USAGE OF SLEEP PILLS IN THIS FAN FICTION! IF IT TRIGGERS ANYONE PLS DON'T READ IT!

So I was a little bit in the hospital. Like a few days and I'm going to be set off tomorrow when I upload this or the day I am set off. While I was in like the hospital I thought: Lilia is cool let's make a fan fiction. Since I'm making a story of my own and it's about dreams I combined them so yeah.

__________________________________________________

𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔. Some people say they have a meaning while other say they are meaningless. You were once one of those people to think that this dream situation was just some random thought. But this one dream has been repeating 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏. It came to the point where you didn't want to wake up. It's wasn't bad. Quite the opposite really. It was magical, something new, something to look forward in your lonely boring life with your pet.

So when you got back to your apartment you were more than happy to just go to sleep. You even skipped dinner. Again. At this point it became a problem but did you care? No not at all. You happily changed into your pyjamas and jumped on your bed hugging the pillow looking up at the ceiling and then burying your head in the pillow while slowly dozing off to sleep.

At the start the general didn't like you because you were human but as time passes he grew a liking to you although you liked him more than a friend that was for sure. What if you never woke up. What if you just stayed? No stop thinking like that it's not right.

When you appeared in the dream you saw 𝐡𝐢𝐦. You smiled widely "General!" He looked back and saw you. He was waiting for you. Like always. He couldn't believe he was falling for a human. But he couldn't say anything to you. You were dreaming and was gonna go away. One day you would find someone else and stop coming here. He got down on his feet taking off his helmet allowing his long dark hair to roam free as his red eyes looked down at your own. He let out a chuckle "You seem quite happy human" You nodded happily and held his hand guiding him to the small cottage you first found in your dream.

You loved baking but you didn't have time because of work so when you had this moment almost every day you always baked something small. Like now. You backed an apple pie. You handed it to him and sat down as he ate it. You knew how bad he was at cooking. You have tasted it once. You lied about you liking it "It's good as always human" you have a bright smile before it becoming a frown and taking the pie "Hey!" He tried reaching for it but was unable since you ran away. For being a general he really let you off the hook huh?

"What did I say about the human part young man?!" He looked at her dumbfounded "I'm probably 100 times if not more older than you" he crossed his arms. All she let out was a pout "I don't care Lilia" his name. Everytime your honey lips said that name. 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆. He wanted to kiss you. To make you his. 𝑻𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖. He knew he couldn't though which made him feel...disappointed? Sad? No these were wear feelings he shouldn't feel as the general who leads an army through a war with humans. With 𝒉𝒆𝒓 kind. But she was different. She didn't want anything to do with the war.

You always hated wars. You thought they were useless other than taking the lives of others and Lilia knew that. He smiled at you "Okay [Name]" You felt your cheeks become red and let him eat the rest. You danced under the pretty moonlight as you always made him. You wanted to kiss him and just when you had the courage you woke up.

You woke up with a snap and groaned in frustration trying not to make a tantrum. Well now that wasn't fair! Why!? She knew a way. She went over to her cabinet and took out sleeping pills. She took one and went to fall asleep going into the same world this time being daylight "Lilia!" She yelled at him and he looked over seeing her "I love you!" You yelled in the distance and when he took his helmet you were met with a flustered and surprised expression. You loved 𝐡𝐢𝐦. You loved the person who commanded an army to do the thing you hate. That wasn't right. But you were only dreaming so why? You were stupid. And he was too.

He ran over to you. He was fast because before eyou realized you were in his arms and he was kissing you. You were taken aback but kissed him too. After you broke off the kiss you woke up.

You were happy but then you realized one thing. You weren't dreaming about this anymore. No. That wasn't right. You were supposed to see him every night. What if he thinks you were just using him. What I'd he thinks you were bluffing and making a joke out of him. You loved him. With all your heart. You needed to meet him.

As many pills you took all you did was end up in the hospital. You were laying down looking up and felt something. 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔. You weren't one to cry so why? It was a dream so why we're you so attached? It wasn't fair. Why? He was her soulmate so why? You hated life for that. How unfair it was. You despised it. That's why you were so attached to him. He was making you feel like a princess. He danced with you. Played games with you. Told you his story. Held you bridal style when you were with a twisted ankle. He did everything no man in this world would do. He made life easier. That was why.

"Ok miss you will be set off tomorrow ok?" The doctor gave you a smile and you gave her a tired nod. You were tired of this life. You wanted it to end. Should you? No stop it. That was dumb you were gonna get over him wouldnt you? It wasn't so hard. The following day you were set off and fell asleep as normal. When you came in the same place you saw him. He was waiting for you. You started crying "Lilia" He immediately looked back at you.

It seemed as her teleported but he had a concerned exspession on his face. And then 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈. Your eyes widened and he hugged you kissing you all over your face "I thought you left! Where were you!?" He looked down at you "I just stopped dreaming. I'm sorry" And then he kissed you. Passionately "I want to try something. What If I make 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆?" Your eyes widened and your face flushed "Lilia what?" He smirked "If I make you mine would you stay. How about we test it"

You blushed but gave a nod. He held you bridal style to the cottage where he set you off on the bed. That night was full of the passion you always wanted. Once you woke up you were with your pet but there was one thing. You were still at the cottage and next to you was 𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂. So it worked. She smiled and stood up changing and making breakfast. When Lilia woke up he looked at you dumbfounded but soon smiled brightly and went over to you burying his face in his neck "Your hair smells nice" You giggled and gave him a kiss. Finally you were gonna be happy with him. Forever. So dreams became true 𝒉𝒖𝒉?

__________________________________________________

Ok I know it's reallyyy short and I hate it for that I'm sorry. Forgive me 🙏🙏. I'll try better next time. It doesn't make sense but look. Is it fluffy? It is so shut it pls.

[allys-corner]

Started Out Rough - Part 1

Summary: A big mishap on your first day leads to a blossoming friendship between you, the new teacher, and Eddie, the school's janitor, but will a secret come between this new pair.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

A/N: I know this has been done a bit, but I still really like the concept. Also don’t know how long this story will be, but hope you enjoy :P

Nerves were high when you stepped out of your car on your first day at Lincoln Middle. Dusting some imaginary lint off your clothes, you gather your things and head inside. You had already met most of the teachers and staff and set up your classroom already, but now it was time to get your first set of kids. Walking into the room, you are instantly hit with a nasty odor. Digging throughout the room turns up a giant wet patch in the far corner of the room trailing down from the ceiling all the way to the floor. 

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening,” you drag your fingers through your hair roughly “on my first day, seriously!” 

<><><>

After having a short meltdown, you track down the closest teacher you can find and ask them what to do. They point you towards the janitor’s closet and you’re on your way. Lincoln isn’t the biggest school, so you don’t have much trouble locating the room; that and the man dragging out a cart of cleaning supplies. The first thing is all the rings on his fingers and the second thing you notice is the mop of curly hair bobbing to a rock song (judging by the mini air guitar moves). You try not to alarm him as you approach, clearing your throat. 

“Hi there, I’m sorry to bother you,” he whips around yanking his headphones off quickly as you power on, “but there is a pretty big leak in my room, and they told me to come get you.”

“Oh yeah, of course, I can help with that.” he seems to trip over his feet at being caught off guard before righting himself “Um, let me just grab the stuff and I’ll meet you there.”

Before you can get a word out, he’s digging through the small amount of supplies gathering things he may need. Although with how flustered he was by this new pretty individual, he ended up with a handful of vent tubing before deciding against it. He hadn’t noticed you in the silhouette of the room door, standing there with a grin a mile wide, until you spoke up once again.

“Don’t you need me to tell you what room I’m in,” you teased.

A sheepish look bloomed on his pale face. 

“Right, what was that room number again?”

<><><>

“Trust me I’ve been around my fair share of preteens.” 

“You wouldn’t strike me as the paternal type” you remark taking a seat on the edge of the desk. You had been enjoying the pleasant conversation floating between you two.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m more like the cool uncle that will let you try his cheap beer and drive his piece of shit car.” Eddie stops smiling for a minute, “sorry for the language, it just slips out sometimes”

You giggle before answering “it’s okay, I’m sure all these kids,” you gesture to the empty classroom “can forgive you.” You look back at Eddie’s beaming smile before you have to look away from the brightness.

“So, how long do you think it will take to get fixed,” you question while helping Eddie clean up a bit.

“Well the good news is that this problem only takes a couple hours to fix, but the bad news is I’ll have to order a replacement part so it will probably be more like a week or so,” he finishes with a sympathetic smile. 

“Oh great!” you rub your forehead for a moment before looking back at the mess in the corner, “well, is the fan staying too?”

“I don’t know, let me ask him” Eddie steps over to the object bending down like he was talking to a small child, “Mr. Fan, do you plan on staying here all week?”

Eddie responds dramatically to the fan’s unspoken reply before bounding back over to you.

“Welp, he said it’s non-negotiable.”

<><><>

Though the first day started out rough, the following morning had you in good spirits. You had picked out a nice outfit, your hair decided to cooperate for once, and your toast was golden brown. It was almost like the universe was trying to tell you something. 

Ignoring the good fortune as though to stave off its departure, you slide into your car and set on some soft tunes, too scared to jinx it. The ride in is fast and before you know it, you’re behind the desk in your classroom. Setting down your things, you begin to organize the papers surrounding you. Before you can get too far into your task, there’s a soft rapt on the door frame. Turning around you expect to see your boss standing there, but instead you get Eddie. 

An unexpected smile takes over your face, as you turn to greet him fully. 

“Hey there, what brings you over?” You ask.

“Well actually I just wanted to say good morning,” he reaches behind his back and pulls out a cup “and to give you this. I hope you like it, I tried to get you something that everyone likes.” 

You blush unintentionally before fumbling for the cup,

“Oh thanks, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s nothing, I usually try to get some for everyone when I stop on my way to work. Though, I should get your coffee order for next time.” 

You grin teasingly, “Would you be mad if I said I’m a tea drinker instead. So usually, I just get some green tea with lemon or raspberry.”

Eddie sits there stunned a moment before recovering, “I guess I can live with that, but if you don’t wanna drink it you don’t have to.” 

He goes to take the cup, but you pull away fast.

“Nope, this is good too! Thank you very much.” 

With a goofy nod, he turns to leave the room but not before saying, “if you need anybody to eat lunch with, I’d be happy to introduce you to some of the other teachers.”

With an enthusiastic agreement from you, he retreats out the door and within ten minutes your classroom is teeming with kids. 

<><><>

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. With the kids still getting used to you and you getting used to the kids, and not to mention an unannounced visit from the principal, Mrs. Ottoman, your mind was screaming for a break. Although you had agreed to have lunch with Eddie and co., you didn’t really know where you were supposed to be going. Before you could worry yourself too much, you step outside the door and see Eddie waiting for you. You try not to look too flustered as you give him a tired smile. His eyes portray understanding as he gives you an empathetic look. Before he can speak though, you interrupt, “don’t ask yet, just lead the way.” 

He turns with a short laugh before heading off towards the main doors. Walking out, you take a left and start heading towards a small structure in the distance. Upon closer view, you realize that it's a small sitting area with a few benches and some nice natural shading. There are a few people sitting at the furthest bench from the doors, but other than that no one is there. Eddie heads towards the others, and you follow a few steps behind. 

You don’t know why you were nervous though because Eddie helps you fit right in. He starts off with a quick introduction: Steve the preppy boy gym teacher, Robyn the sexy librarian, Nancy the scary maniac of a math teacher, and Billy the heartthrob of history lessons. Then, he drags you to sit right next to him. You had brought a packed lunch with you, but it seems that the teachers wanted to treat you to a new school lunch. 

There were all the fixings for sandwiches and several different sides along with two kinds of soda. The amount of food was overwhelming, but Nancy jumped in to help you make your plate. Eddie gave you a quick whisper to let you know that Nancy had fixed everything up so you could thank her properly, before digging in himself. Before long the questions start pouring in,

“So, where did you move from y/n?”

“I moved from Oregon. A small town about 20 minutes from Portland.”

“Oh! I have an aunt that lives in Oregon. She says it's very pretty up there. Don’t know why you'd move here instead.” Robyn gives a short chuckle.

“Well actually I used to live here a while ago, but I had to move away for a while. My moms gotten kind of sick recently so I’ve moved back to help her and my nephew, Rylee.”

With looks of genuine concern, they all try to speak at once with reassurances. You look on with a meek smile before Eddie drags the attention away from you. 

“Nancy, what is this mushy stuff anyway?” he says loudly, with an obnoxiously disgusted look on his face. The look is so odd on his face that you can’t help but giggle. Then Nancy, ever the mother, looks on with a glare while slapping his hand from the container. 

“It’s sauerkraut, genius. You would know if you didn’t have the appetite of a five year old.”

“Hey! Mac and cheese is a perfectly balanced meal in my book.” Eddie slams his hands on the bench while standing up abruptly. Nancy just looks on with a spent stature.

“Exactly my point, nimrod.”

[13uswntimagines]

Bah Humbug (Soran x Reader)

Summary: R really really hates Christmas. So much so that she's kinda known as a Grinch. Can a person from her past (and 3 ghosts) help her change her fate?

Basically, it's a story based off of Charles Dicken's Christmas Carol. I hope you enjoy it.

Author's note: I know it's after Christma, but happy holidays everyone. I hope you enjoy this crazy thing out of my head. Feel free to hit me up with comments and requests.

You glared at your phone, taking a long sip of your beer. 

The team knew you didn’t celebrate the holidays, and having your crushes call you to try and con you into attending the annual party was a low blow. Your teammates knew how difficult it was to resist them. 

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t picked up. 

You didn’t anticipate them leaving a message. 

“Hey, you’re busy and that’s probably why you didn’t pick up, but I just wanted to remind you about the team party,” Emily’s voice rang through the phone. 

You noted the distinct lack of mention that it was a holiday party. 

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of Christmas, but I would love to see you there and Lindsey and the rest of the team would too,” Emily finished. 

You took another long sip of your beer, playing the message again. 

It wasn’t fair for your teammates to use your feelings against you. 

If it had been a New Years’ party, or literally anything else you would have gone. But you absolutely could not. Would not. Support any stupid Christmas traditions. 

You had even denied the invite via Megan’s stupid survey. It has taken you nearly half an hour to scroll through the 50 questions about alcohol and desert preferences to pick the option labeled- I’m a grinch who doesn’t like fun and has a heart 2 sizes too small to attend.

It was bad enough that you couldn’t even have peace in your own home, not with your neighbor and all his holiday cheer. 

Why did he have to blast the music so loud that it drowned out your soccer replay? Why did he have to send his wife down to offer you some Christmas pudding? People already looked at you funny when you explained you didn’t love the nation's favorite holiday. You just wanted to be able to have your non-celebration in your own home. 

“Shut up,” You groaned at a particularly loud cheer from the floor above you, tossing your remote so it thumped against the ceiling. “Just let me eat my frozen pizza in peace,” 

What gave them the right to be so loud and merry?

There were still homeless people on the streets, children going hungry, and men fighting over who owned land that was never theirs to own. 

Part of your problem with Christmas was that all it appeared to be was an excuse for rich people to get richer, people to get drunk at parties, and those with bad intentions to take advantage. 

You waited a few more minutes, reaching for another beer as the music only grew louder.  With a sigh you threw your remote a little harder, praying that your neighbor would quiet down. 

You glared when your phone rang again. 

Why couldn’t anyone get the fucking message? You didn’t want to be a part of the Christmas celebrations or their stupid money-grabbing intentions. 

“What?” You grumbled into the phone. 

“Is that any way to greet your favorite team mom?” Kelley asked, and you rolled your eyes. 

Preath were your team moms, but Kelley had stepped in when you were traded to Washington, and you loved her nearly as much as you loved them. 

“You're not my favorite, Christen is,” You scoffed, taking a large gulp of your beer. “And you’re only calling me to convince me to come to the stupid party,” 

Kelley sighed heavily over the line. In all the time she had known you, you had never even tried to be merry. “Come on kid, why don’t you try to get into the Christmas spirit,” 

“No,” You snapped. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it,” 

“But Emily and Lindsey will be there, and Megan’s even putting up an insane amount of mistletoe just for you,” Alex’s voice chimed in, sounding farther away than her girlfriend. “Just come for a little while. You don’t even have to dance to the music. it’ll be fun,” 

“I said no. I don’t celebrate Christmas,” You ground out. “Mistletoe is an invasive, parasitic, poisonous species that could kill you,” 

“You don’t have to be such a Scrooge,” You could hear Kelley’s frown. 

“Well, bah fucking humbug,” You huffed.

“I know things have been tough since Tyler-“ Alex started, but you cut her off with a thunderous growl. “Don’t you dare mention my brother,”  

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “We never celebrated Christmas either,” you hung up before either of your stand-in parents could say another word. 

You didn’t care what they had to say. You just wanted to have your little non-celebration in peace. You didn’t want to think about your non-existent family. Or the memories that came with this stupid fucking holiday. 

You closed your eyes tightly, listening idly to the sounds of the party above you. 

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time

“Shut up!” you yelled louder this time, grabbing a broom and banging on your ceiling. “Keep your Yule Tidings to yourself!” 

There was some banging on the floor above you before the music got impossibly louder, and you swore you heard a “don’t be such a grinch” 

You sighed. 

You were different from the grinch. You hated the holiday and everything it stood for. Not the people. 

And there was no way you would be carving up the roast beast. 

But maybe… 

You clicked into your messages, your fingers hovering over the group chat you shared with Lindsey and Emily. 

It took you a minute to click out a message. 

Be safe tonight you two. Try not to have too much fun without me. 

And another long minute to hit the send key. 

It took less than 30 seconds for your phone to ping with their reply. 

You could make sure we were safe if you came

You shook your head at Lindsey’s words, immediately closing your phone and standing from the couch, and heading towards your room. You knew you could be with them, but you didn’t want to. 

You didn’t want to bring down their night with your negativity. 

You heard your phone ding again as you crawled into bed, but you didn’t feel like answering, hoping to just sleep the holidays away. 

*****

You weren’t sure what woke you up, but one second you were asleep and the next you were not. 

It was like a cold wind had blown through your bedroom, whipping your blanket off of you and slamming your bedroom door with a clap. 

“What the fuck?” You hissed, sitting up in bed, searching for your stolen quilt. 

“Didn’t know you had inherited my sailor's mouth,”

You sucked in a breath at the familiar voice, and your entire being froze. You hadn’t heard his voice since-

You didn’t want to think about it. 

Still, your eyes searched the room for the source of the sound, fully expecting the television to be playing an old home movie. 

But it was oddly blank. “What the fuck?”

“Come on kid, I thought you were sharper than this,” The voice chuckled, and your head snapped toward the noise. 

“No,” You breathed out as you took in his form, his wide smile and beaming features coated in a strange white mist. “You died four years ago. You can’t be here,”  

He hummed. “I told them you would be suspicious,”

You shook your head, standing and beginning to pace. 

“Maybe it was something in the beer,” You mumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair. “I shouldn’t have switched brands,”

“It’s not the beer,” Your brother shrugged, stepping from his place in the doorway to sit on the edge of your bed. 

“It has to be!” You hissed, sending him your best glare.

Ghosts were not real. Dead relatives didn’t visit you at night. 

You had to be hallucinating, or high, or have a brain tumor creating him. 

“It’s not.” He shrugged again, his easy smile never leaving his face. That just made you angrier. How could he smile when you were probably having a mental breakdown? How could he be happy?

He watched you cross the room a few times, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t you sit down so we can talk for a moment? I don’t have an unlimited amount of time,”

You huffed. “How can you be so calm at a time like this?”

“This isn’t my first visit to you, just the first time you’ve been able to acknowledge me,” He said softly, his voice still semi-amused, gesturing towards the bed opposite of him. “Sit, before you pull a muscle or something,” 

You very slowly made your way to the spot, carefully sitting down on the bed, your eyes taking in every inch of your visitor. Your older brother had never been so pale. You also noted the dark circles under his grey eyes, and how his hair was more tousled than usual. But other than that it was him, and he was completely fine, sitting across from you in his signature bomber jacket. 

“You’re really here,” You breathed out, the ever-present ache in your chest easing for just a second. 

He nodded, reaching out to cover your hand with his.“I am,”

It was a strange sensation, like ice and tingles where he had touched you. It didn’t fill you with the warmth you always remembered. 

You pulled your hand away, curling it to your chest. “Why are you here?” 

“I’ve come to warn you,” Tyler said, his voice nothing more than a conspiratorial whisper. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “This isn’t some Christmas carol hoax about me forging a chain I’ll have to wear in death, is it? You didn’t celebrate Christmas either and you don’t have one,” 

“No,” Your brother sent you a rye smile. “but there are different kinds of chains Y/n,”

He held up his wrist to show you what looked like a handcuff. 

You frowned, shaking your head. “I adopt an angel every year. I send money to the shelter down the road. I don’t know what else you people want from me,” 

You did everything you could to make the world a better place. The only thing you refused to do was celebrate a stupid holiday. That didn’t stop you from donating or making kids’ dreams come true. 

That should be enough. 

Your brother's eyes tightened. “You’re here alone on Christmas Eve,” 

“So?” You shrugged. 

The only difference from your normal celebrations was that he hadn’t been there to share it with you. 

“Y/n it is too late to change my fate, to relinquish the curse I must face every year of watching those I love, but it’s not late to change yours,” 

His shoulders squared and his voice turned deep, and suddenly you knew that the next words he was about to speak were not his own.  “Tonight you will be visited by 3 spirits. The ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas yet to come. Take heed to what they say. It may be your last chance,” 

He stood to leave without another word, and you mirrored his actions, practically launching yourself at him. 

“Wait!” you yelped, latching onto his cold hand. 

“Hmm,” his eyes turned back to you, but they were more distant than before. 

“I-“ you gulped. “I miss you,”

He smiled, shaking his hand from your grasp, and placing it on your heart. “Remember bug, we’re always with you,”

With one last sad, longing smile he disappeared. 

*****

You were restless, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

Part of you was still trying to convince yourself that your bothers… visit was a figment of drunk yous imagination. The other part was anxiously awaiting for the clock to strike 12 and for the first “ghost” to appear. 

You had never been superstitious. You had laughed at ghost stories and shrugged off tales of apparitions, deeming them as tales meant to scare children. But still, you wondered what this… ghost would look like. What they would do. And most of all how it would try to persuade you that Christmas wasn’t some oversold, over-hyped holiday designed to make people go into debt. 

Your eyes followed the minute hand of the clock, tracking as it finally landed on 12. 

You held your breath, waiting for something to happen. 

But as the minute hand moved again and the seconds ticked by there was… nothing. 

There was no jiggle of your door handle, or uninvited visitor standing at the foot of your bed. There wasn’t even the flutter of a curtain. 

“It was the beer,” you sighed, laying back on your bed, and letting out a chuckle. You closed your eyes, content to sleep the miserable holiday away. 

“It wasn’t,” 

Your eyes snapped open and you leaped out of the bed, turning to face your unwanted intruder. 

“Easy slugger,” The woman on the bed laughed, an eerie glow surrounding her entire body, lighting up your room. 

You froze, your gaze flickering between the woman’s face and the signed jersey that lived on your wall. “Mia?” You asked, earning a chuckle from the retired forward. 

“Not quite, young one. I am the ghost of Christmas Past,” Her smile was wide, warm, and welcoming. 

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowing. “Then why are you shaped like Mia Hamm?”

“I’ve come to you in a form you are more open to accepting. Your idol,” The ghost explained softly, still perched casually on your bed, holding out her sleeve to you. 

You rolled your eyes, scoffing and crossing your arms across your chest. “So you’re just gonna take me through the history of Christmas in hopes of changing my heart?”

The ghost smiled wryly at you as if she expected that reaction. “I am the ghost of not all Christmases past, just your past,” 

“Oh,” You deflated.

“Come young one, grab my sleeve and we will begin our journey,” 

You sighed, closing your eyes tightly as your fingers reached for the robe. 

You had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy this. 

****

You blew out a long breath as your feet met the ground, your slippers crunching on freshly fallen snow.

Snow you hadn’t seen since you moved to Orlando. 

You blinked up at the scene, taking in the bricks, rod iron, and sloping lawn of the mansion you had called home. 

The angels at the gate were coated in a thin layer of white powder, along with the fountain in the center of the drive. 

It was an image ingrained into your head that you knew would never leave. An image you hadn’t seen since your 11th Christmas. 

But how were you here? You couldn’t be here…

“Are we where I think we are?” You asked Mia slowly, dragging your wide eyes away from your childhood home. 

“We are,” She nodded once. “Our Christmas journey begins with one of your best Christmases. Shall we go inside,” 

You gulped but headed towards the gate nonetheless. Your fingers shook as they unlatched the little lock (shaped like a rose) and you slipped through both it and the door to the house. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the warm air that wafted towards you as you stepped into the foyer of the house, and its distinct smell of cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. 

It curled around you like a hug from her, and you could feel the tightness in your chest that always accompanied it. 

Mia’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing that prevented you from stepping backward, away from the feelings that you had run from for so long.

“Your family is gathered in the den,” She said softly, “Shall we join them, or do you need a minute?”

You cleared your throat. You shouldn’t feel so choked up just from the smell of cinnamon rolls. It was stupid, but your mother had made them every Christmas morning, and you and your brother had eaten them together with hot chocolate. It was a core memory that just hurt so much now. 

“I’m fine,” You muttered, pushing yourself forward and into the den. 

You ignored the ache in your chest at the lights that littered the walls, and the tree that stood proudly in the corner. But you couldn’t help the feeling that opened in the pit of your stomach when you saw a younger version of yourself settle between your brother and your mother. 

You could remember that Christmas vividly. It was the last real Christmas your family had spent together as a family. 

“I think it’s Ty’s turn,” Your father smiled jovially, holding up a camcorder as your other brother reached for his next box. 

It was small, wrapped in red paper, and clumsily tied with a bow. Your eight-year-old self had been so proud to have wrapped it alone for the first time. Looking back at it, you really should have let your mother help you, but no one commented on the sloppy job. 

“I wonder who this one could be from,” Tyler smiled, bumping your shoulder lightly as a blush colored your cheeks. 

“It’s from me,” Your younger self mumbled, looking away, embarrassed. “I picked it out myself,” 

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” You hummed, stepping closer to the couch. 

Mia shrugged. “It was the first gift you had ever decided to buy. You put a lot of thought into it,” 

Tyler very carefully undid the bow, and slowly lifted the messy red paper off of the box, and both you and your younger self watched him with rapt attention as he flipped open the lid on the box to reveal an Arsenal beanie. 

“It was his favorite team,” You countered, your eyes never leaving the way he immediately slipped it onto his head and pulled younger you into a hug. “It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to like it,” 

‘No,” Mia agreed. “But your younger self also didn’t realize that it was the thought that counts either,”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek as your mother passed younger you your last box. “I didn’t understand that the presents weren’t the thing that mattered yet,” 

You knew exactly what was in that box. 

Your younger self was much less systematic than your brother as she tore off the paper golden, revealing the plain box beneath it. It wasn’t until she peeked under the lid that she paused, her jaw dropped staring at her family. 

“I didn’t learn that lesson until the year after this one,” You muttered as your eight-year-old self ripped the top of the box and held up a signed Mia Hamm jersey. You winced as your younger self launched yourself at your mother. 

You watched for any sign, any wobble from her. 

“She didn’t know she was sick yet,” Mia hummed gently as if she were reading your mind, and you reasoned that she may have been. She was a ghost after all. 

You cleared your throat, shaking your head as young as you tugged the jersey over your head. “I was a dumbass for putting it on. It should have gone directly in the frame,”

“You were excited,” Mia reminded you gently, the hand on your shoulder comforting you more than it should have. “It was everything you had ever wanted,” 

“I would have appreciated not getting a stain right above the crest on the chest,” You shrugged. “Thinking back on it now, I had everything I wanted. I didn’t need a jersey for that. God only knows how much my father paid for that,” 

“Is money all you think about?” Mia asked you softly.

Your eyes tightened at the question.

 “No,” You ground the word out through clenched teeth. Money was all your father thought about. You were nothing like your father. “I just wonder how much good could have been done instead-”

“Of giving you a core childhood memory?” Mia countered, not allowing you to finish your thought. 

You bit your lip, holding in the biting remark on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t like being interrupted, or being contradicted. 

“The memory would have been fine without the jersey,” You grumbled, averting your eyes from your younger self as your mother pressed a kiss to your forehead. “The core experience was about being with them, not some stupid present,” 

Mia hummed, watching you carefully. 

Your younger self pulled away, smiling widely at your mother. “I love Christmas,” 

“And I love you,” She smiled back.

You gulped down the pain in your chest, using the corner of your old West Virginia sleeve to wipe away the liquid forming in the corner of your eye. Christmas had been your favorite for a long time. 

Until it wasn’t. Until you learned its true meaning. 

You forced your gaze from the scene, and back towards Mia. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” 

She nodded once. “Grab my sleeve,” 

*******

Dim lights met you as your eyes flickered open, the yellow glow of the fire illuminating a solitary form curled up in front of it. 

The form shivered, despite its closeness to the blazing hearth, pulling the fraying red blanket tighter around itself. 

Yourself. 

The Christmas tree that had dominated the living room was gone, as were the garland and light strings that hung from the ceiling. The only indication that it was near Christmas was the sound of Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time buzzing softly through an old radio. 

You remembered this night just as well as you had your last stop, even better. You remembered your thoughts as you stared into the fire, how you cursed the universe or any god that may or may not have been listening. You remembered wishing that every radio station wasn’t playing things that reminded you of her, but you couldn’t live with your racing thoughts enough to sit in silence. 

It was the first time you had ever really hated Christmas. 

“You look lonely,” Mia commented, and you jumped slightly. You had almost forgotten that she was there.

“I couldn’t go to the hospital,” You breathed out, your voice shaking with the effort it took to hold back your emotions. “She tried to make us our Christmas cinnamon rolls and collapsed,” 

You shook your head. You had been the one to ask for them. She hadn’t been able to get out of bed long enough the year before to make them, and you missed them. She waved off your father's concern and nodded at you with a chapped-lipped smile. 

Mia’s hand landed warm and heavy on your shoulder, but you brushed her off, taking a step closer to your younger self. 

You didn’t need the comfort now, you had needed it back then, and no one was there. The least you could do was help yourself. 

You slowly reached out a hand, rubbing the spot on the back of your younger self's neck that you knew would soothe her. “It hurts now, but you’ll be alright,” 

“She can’t hear or feel you,” Mia interrupted you, standing on your younger self's other side. 

You glared up at her, a barbed quip on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t get to use it. 

“Hey, munchkin,” Tyler’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and your youngest self’s head snapped around to see him. 

He smiled sadly down at you, and you moved so he could sit beside your younger self in front of the hearth. 

Tyler’s arm wrapped around your shoulder and you tucked your face into the warm skin of his neck. 

“This is all my fault,” Your younger self breathed out miserably, and you saw the tears creeping down Tyler’s neck. 

“No,” Tyler said firmly, coaxing you out of his neck so he could look you in the eyes. “Mom was sick,”

You shook your head, more tears streaming down your face. “But if I hadn’t asked for cinnamon roll-”

“She probably would have had to go to the hospital anyway,” He countered, using a thumb to wipe your tears away. 

You frowned as you watched them, the smell of Tyler’s calone fresh in your mind. The way his hugs had always made you feel whole. How you trusted him that it would all be alright. 

You didn’t know that your mother was dying in a hospital bed. You had believed him. 

Your younger self touched her face into Tyler’s shoulder, and he held you tighter. 

“He didn’t tell me that we couldn’t afford the surgery or the treatments that would save her,” You mumbled bitterly.  “Or that the treatments probably wouldn’t have helped her anyway,” 

You turned away from the scene towards Mia. “I don’t want to be here,” 

She nodded once, holding out her sleeve, and the scene disappeared around you in a blur of color. 

*****

Your knees wobbled as you landed in the living room of your apartment, and your hand tightened around Mia’s arm as you tried to get your footing. You used your arm to wipe your sleeve across your eyes. 

Brushing away the evidence of one of your worst Christmases. 

“Take some deep breaths,” Mia said softly, her hand landing warm and heavy on your shoulder. 

You nodded, sucking in a wet breath through your nose. 

“Why did you have to show me that?” You asked, glaring at the woman. 

“Because it’s one of the reasons you hate Christmas,” She answered, not wavered by your sudden anger. “Because you can’t see that you don’t have to hate,” 

“Nothing but bad things happen on Christmas,” You spat back, ripping yourself out of her grasp. 

“Tyler didn’t seem to think so,” She said. 

Your glare deepened. 

It wasn’t a fair statement. Yes, Tyler had never lost his joy like you had. 

And neither had you really, not until Christmas four years ago. 

“He did his best,” You reluctantly conceded. 

“You made your own traditions,” She hummed, waving her hand. 

The blurry scenery around you shifted to your apartment. A younger version of you was standing in the kitchen, carefully sliding a pizza out of the oven to sit on the counter next to your beer bottle. 

You frowned at the soft glow of Christmas lights and the sound of an old World Cup playing in the background. 

There was a warmth in the apartment that had been missing since…

You shook your head. 

You didn’t like to think about that night. That Christmas. 

“Hey kid,” Tyler said, knocking on the kitchen counter as he approached you, the Arsenal beanie perched on his head. 

You carefully set the pizza down, smiling widely at him. “What's up?”

You could practically feel the excitement radiation off of you. It wasn’t like the Christmas of your youth, nothing had been the same after your mother died, but you and Tyler had found your own way to enjoy the holiday. 

His mirroring smile was pained, and his fingers tapped the counter like he was nervous. “Dad called,”

Your nose scrunched. “What did he want?”

You hadn’t spoken to him since you moved out to go to college. 

After your mother died, he turned to a bottle to ease his pain, and in the process, he inflicted his pain on you. His jovial heart had turned cold, and you had scars from him that you would never outgrow. 

“It was his nurse at hospice,” Tyler amended quietly. His voice held an unusual edge. “They don’t think he’s going to make it through the night,”

You blinked up at him, your shoulders lifting and falling. “So?”

Tyler sighed, grabbing your wrist gently so you would look up at him instead of focusing on where you were slicing the pizza. 

“I know he’s made some mistakes-”

“He abused me,” You scoffed, interrupting him. “That’s not a mistake,” 

Your voice held no room for argument. It couldn’t, not with all that he had done. 

A mistake was one incident. One accidental laying of hands. 

Your father in his grief had surpassed that hundreds if not thousands of times. The thick, raised scars on your back were evidence of that, as were the sounds of his sneering voice in your ear. 

“He’s our father,” Your brother said sternly but you were already shaking your head. 

“He made his choice,” 

Your voice was bitter, cold. It sent a shiver down present-day you’s spine. 

Tyler blew out another long breath, pushing himself away from the counter. “It’s his dying wish,” 

You followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“And he can take it to his grave,” You spat the words. As far as you were condemned, you didn’t owe him anything. 

Tyler rolled his eyes, pulling on his boots. “Don’t be cruel Y/n, It doesn’t suit you,” 

You watched him with disbelief as he pulled on his boots, and stood up to grab his jacket. 

“You can't seriously be going to see him,” You said, following after him. “He’s an asshole,” 

“Everyone deserves to have their dying wish heard,” He said, his voice sounding more like a dad than your own father’s had. “Are you coming or not?”

It made you want to soften, but you didn’t. 

“So I can tell him to burn in hell?” You raised your eyebrow at him. 

“Y/n,” He sighed. “Don’t do it for him, do it for yourself. Closure is important,” 

Your lip curled. “I got my closure the first time he picked up a belt, or threw a Christmas tree out the window, or-,” 

“I’ll be back, don't have too much fun without me,” Tyler cut you off, wrapping his scarf around his neck, giving you a very quick hug, and heading out the door. It slammed behind him, and he was gone. 

You stared at your younger self as she stared at the door. 

It was the last time you would ever see your brother alive. The last time you would see his smile or feel his hugs that had always set you at ease. 

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time hummed in the background, and you longed to wrap your younger self up in your arms. 

“I wish I had told him I loved him,” You mumbled as your younger self turned on her heel and headed back toward her pizza. 

Mia’s warm hand found your shoulder again. “You didn’t have to say it for him to know,” 

You brushed her off, tired of her and what she was showing you. “I still wish I said it,” 

Tyler was too good of a person. He wanted to make everyone happy. 

And I’m his effort to give your Father Christmas Joy, he had lost his life. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” 

Mia held up her sleeve and you grabbed on. The world tilted on its head and suddenly one of the worst nights of your life was gone. 

All you had learned was that you hated Christmas for a good reason. Only bad things happened on Christmas. 

******

You jolted upright, breathing heavily as your eyes opened. Your hands clutched your wet shirt, soaked through with sweat, and your eyes darted around your room, searching for the ghost of Mia Hamm who only showed you your worst memories. 

Your breathing slowed as you realized you were alone. 

“It was just a dream,” You ran a hand through your damp curls. “I really shouldn’t have switched beer brands,” 

“No, you shouldn’t mix brands because it destroys the flavor,” 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the voice, leaping out of the bed and whipping around to see one Kelley O’Hara sitting on your bed, dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater that resembled a Christmas tree. 

“What the fuck Kelley,” You grumbled incredulously at the defender. “What are you doing here? How did you get into my apartment?” 

“I’m not Kelley,” She smiled devilishly at you, crossing one leg over the other, a perfect imitation of one of your team moms. “Ghost of Christmas present, happy to make your acquaintance,” 

She held her hand out for you to take. 

You stared at the outstretched fingers warily. 

“Are you here to make me feel worse?” You asked cautiously. 

The defender shook her head, her dimples showing. “I’m just here to show you what you’re missing,” 

You sighed, throwing your head back. “Can we not and say we did? I’ll go to the stupid Christmas party next year,” 

Kelley chuckled, and you heard her stand from the bed.  “I’m afraid not,” 

“It was worth a shot,” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose and looking back at the woman. The amused smile hadn’t left her lips. 

“Ready?” 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

The truth was that you weren’t ready. You didn’t want to be stuck in this scrooge-like dream. You didn’t want to see what you were missing. 

You didn’t like Christmas, and it annoyed you that even your brain wouldn’t let you wallow in peace. 

“Let’s get this shit over with,” 

She snorted, stepping forward and gently grabbing your arm. “It won’t be too bad, don’t worry,” 

The colors in your bedroom blurred and you felt a now familiar tug in your stomach as your world shifted. 

At least this ghost seemed happier. 

*****

Immediate warmth filled your chest as you opened your eyes to the scene, leaning heavily on Kelley as the world shifted into focus. 

Glasses tinkled and the laughter of your friends filled your ears. The smell of cinnamon and cherries filled the air and it felt like home. You didn’t even mind simply having a wonderful Christmas time blaring in the background. 

You couldn’t help the way your lips lifted. You doubted the sounds of your found family would ever not have the power to make you smile. 

“You totally cheated,” Emily grumbled, flicking her Uno cards toward Lindsey. 

The midfielder shook her head, cackling. “I didn’t, I’m just better at this than you are,” 

“I figured your two favorite blondes would make you smile,” Kelley cheered, clapping your shoulder and making you jump. “Christmas pastey told me you were in a bad mood,” 

Your smile morphed into a scowl. “She made me relive two of my worst memories,” 

“She was trying to show you that the people you loved wouldn’t want you to be alone on Christmas,” Ghost Kelley countered as regular Kelley returned to the room, carrying drinks. 

The defender passed the filled solo cups about. “As much fun as uno is, I think an actual game is called for here,” 

Lindsey leaned down and sniffed the cup, scrunching her nose. “What did you put in here, jet fuel?”  

Emily cackled again, even as Alex, Kelley, and Megan shook their heads. 

“No, it’s the special Christmas mix,” Tobin supplied easily. “Kelley makes it every year,” 

“She thinks it’ll make us more honest during never have I ever,” Christen added, winking at the blonde pair. 

“I didn’t know they played never have I ever on Christmas,” You mumbled, leaning towards one of the red solo cups and taking a whiff of your own. Your nose wrinkled at the smell. 

It was definitely something more potent than her normal mix. You caught a hint of Jamison and vermouth, and something… cinnamony. 

Fireball you thought ruefully. She made them fireball manhattans, stronger than ones they could ever get in a bar. 

“Why would you?” Ghost Kelley chuckled, “You’ve never attended a Christmas party with them, even while your brother was still alive,” 

 “I didn’t want to be around the holiday cheer,” You hissed. This ghost was as insufferable as the first was. “And my brother and I had traditions of our own,” 

“Yes, I’m sure eating a frozen pizza and watching a World Cup from 1950 is the best way to spend a Christmas,” Ghost Kelley rolled her eyes. “So much better than being surrounded by people who love you,” 

“It’s just easier” You hissed back. “It doesn’t hurt as much,” 

Being around your friends at Christmas reminded you of what your life was like before your mother died. It reminded you about how much you loved the lights, the colors, and the joy. 

It felt like you were betraying her memory. 

Ghost Kelley raised an eyebrow at you. “All it does is let you wallow in your past pain instead of making new, happy memories,” 

Lindsey put her glass down. “I think I’ll pass, I promised Y/n that we would be safe tonight, and one of us has to drive,” 

“She really cares about you two,” Christen said gently. 

Lindsey and Emily shared a meaningful look.

“We know,” Emily said softly, her face falling just a bit. “We were hoping she would come, so we could… talk about our developing feelings,” 

“I even hung up an extra mistletoe in case,” Lindsey added, gesturing towards the archway between the kitchen and the living room. 

You frowned. “Why would they think I would come?” 

“It’s not you guys, trust us,” Alex hummed, sipping her drink. 

“Y/n just hates Christmas,” Megan added, rolling her eyes. “She basically locks herself away every year with a frozen pizza and a case of beer,”  

“At least she’s got a good reason,” Christen muttered, sending a meaningful look toward Megan. 

Christen was the one to find you the night your brother died. The one who held you after you identified your brother. 

After you said goodbye. 

“They thought you would come because they were hoping you would want to be with them,” Ghost Kelley said, and your eyes snapped to her half-smile.

“She doesn’t have to be such a grinch about how much she hates it though,” Megan scoffed, leaning back against Sue’s legs. “She dunked My speakers at practice because I was playing Christmas music,”

 “And she tossed my hat when I asked her to pick a secret Santa and gave me a lecture on how Santa was a figment created by toy companies and parents to scare children and make money,” Real Kelley added.

“But why?” Lindsey asked, her voice edging too far on desperate for you to feel comfortable. 

Both she and Emily had been warned of your aversion to the holiday, but no one seemed willing to expand on it. 

You hadn’t been willing to expand on it, even if they could tell that it was something that caused you great pain. 

An uncomfortable quiet swept around the circle of soccer players as the vets shared looks. 

“Her mother and her brother both died on Christmas,” Christen explained finally. 

 “and her dad made the ones in between that hell,” Tobin finished, sipping her red cup. “She’s convinced it’s a horrible holiday designed to pray on people’s pain,” 

“She’s living in the past,” Alex added.  “and no matter how hard we try, we can’t drag her into the present,” 

“I do want to be with them,” You growled. 

“Then why aren’t you here?” Ghost Kelley asked, cocking her head to the side. 

 “I get that kid doesn’t like Christmas, but she doesn’t have to make it miserable for the rest of us,” The real Kelley added softly, earning a slap on the shoulder from Alex. She raised her hands in defense. “What it’s true! She’s impossible about everything when it comes to Christmas,” 

“I didn’t go because I didn’t want to make anyone have to share in my gloom,” You muttered towards ghost Kelley, sending a waving gesture towards the room. “Because it’s a kindness to allow them to be happy. It can only happen without me,” 

“I’m going to go get water,” Lindsey muttered, standing from the couch. 

“Well that’s a bummer,” Ghost Kelley cackled, flicking the side of your head. “Must you always be so much of a downer? Your frown is going to give you premature wrinkles,” 

“Why couldn’t my ghost of Christmas present be Christen,” You grumbled, pushing yourself up from your couch’s arm, following after the midfielder. “She’s so much understanding,” 

Ghost Kelley smirked, pushing herself off the wall to walk in time with you towards the kitchen. “Ghost Christen was unavailable, something about a vacation with ghost Tobin,” 

You rolled your eyes, pressing on the swinging door of the kitchen. You heard Emily’s “I'm gonna go check on her,” from behind you. 

“Good to know that they’re just as gross in the ghost world,” You muttered, your eyes landing on Lindsey as you stepped into the kitchen. 

She was far too focused on the pitcher, filling a red solo cup with water. 

You sighed, reaching out a hand towards her shoulder, longing to comfort her, even if you didn’t understand exactly why she was sad. 

“She can’t feel you or hear you,” Kelley reminded you, her voice going gentle. 

You gulped, drawing your hand back before it could run through the midfielder's silky hair. 

“Why is she upset?” You asked, just as Emily slowly pushed open the door, leaning on the counter. 

“You alright?” Emily questioned, her worried eyes following Lindsey’s form. 

The midfielder gulped but nodded. “I’m ok, it was just a lot out there,” 

“We both knew holidays would be a challenge,” Emily hummed. “She was pretty upfront with her hang-ups,” 

“I know,” Lindsey mumbled, her voice cracking. “I just… I didn’t know that the reason why would break my heart so much,” 

You frowned. 

“She’s so sweet, but all she can see in my favorite holiday is death and destruction,” the midfielder continued. “And she’s not open to seeing anything else,” 

“Babe,” Emily whispered, stepping past you and wrapping her arms around Lindsey’s waist. The midfielder turned into her, burying her face in Emily’s shoulder. 

Her back shook with the force of her tears, and you were left speechless. 

She was crying. For you. Because things had happened to you, and you couldn’t let it go. 

It made your chest ache. 

“Don’t worry,” Emily said, rubbing Lindsey’s back, shushing her gently. “She’ll come around. Maybe we can head over to her apartment after tomorrow, and bring her Thai food or something. It’ll be like a tradition of our own,” 

Lindsey sniffled, but you saw her nod at the idea. “She’ll like that,” 

“I would too,” Emily agreed. 

You stepped back from the woman, unable to tear your eyes away. 

They were willing to make a new tradition, just for you. 

“Seems like you picked two good ones,” Ghost Kelley said, her lips very close to your ear. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the feeling, whipping around to face her, the kitchen blurring around you as you did. 

Her smirk shifted from playful to something more… mocking. Unfriendly. “Willing to give up their traditions to make you feel more comfortable. But you're not willing to do the same for them are you?” 

“I’m…I,” You stuttered, your eyebrows furrowing. 

She held up her hand to silence you. “My time with you is short I’m afraid. I don’t have any to spare for our banter,” 

With that, she turned on her heel, and it was all you could do to keep us as you stumbled after her, through the door and into- 

Not Kelley's apartment. It was a long, dark cobblestone alleyway covered in shadows. 

*****

“Where are we?” You said, tripping over your feet as you tried to keep up with ghost Kelley. 

She seemed on a mission. You knew the defender was fast in real life, but this felt like an entirely new level. You felt drunk, unable to keep your feet underneath you as you staggered beside her. 

“The present,” Kelley said as if it was obvious. 

You rolled your eyes at her wit, familiar and different all the same. “But where?”

“To show you what you have that you don’t appreciate,” Kelley waved her hand, stopping short and not giving you enough time to stop before you rammed into her. 

You recoiled away from her. “Wasn’t that the point of showing me the stupid Christmas party?” 

“No. That was to show you what you’re missing. This.” Ghost Kelley said shortly, waving her hand again. “This is to show you how ungrateful you are,” 

Light spilled from the lanterns hanging on the walls, chasing away the shadows. It pushed away the darkness, illuminating a small family, huddled together to get out of the cold. 

You stared at the mother, holding a child no older than 4 in her lap. 

“Shh honey, it’ll be alright,” She hummed, rocking the child. 

You couldn’t help the anger that bubbled up in your chest. The rage that no one was listening to you. 

Just because you hated Christmas didn’t mean you were selfish. 

You wheeled around, taking an angry step toward ghost Kelley. 

“I’m fucking tired of this,” You growled. “I donate to charity every year. I give to the angel tree. I fucking give out Turkey dinners to the homeless. What else  do you people want from me,” 

Kelley smirked. “They told me you were smart, but I’m beginning to wonder,” 

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off, stepping too close to you, one hand catching the collar of your shirt and shoving you backward. 

Your back hit the cold brick wall, and for the first time, it felt like a ghost in front of you instead of your very first team mom. 

“You are not living,” She snarled. “You have friends who love you. A family you found, yet you act like everything was taken from you,” 

You pressed into her hand. “Everything was taken from me. A stupid disease took my mother, grief took my father and a drunk driver coming home from a Christmas party took my brother. That’s all this fucking holiday does. Take!”

“It didn’t have to take you,” Kelley said, bitterness clear in her voice. “You gave up your joy willingly,” 

Your teeth mashed together at the implication that your misery was your own fault. 

“Your chain is not defined by greed and ignorance, but instead loneliness and grief,” She hissed, pressing you into the wall, her lips curling to reveal sharp teeth in a way that the real Kelley’s would never. “Forged by your unwillingness to live rather than exist,” 

She pushed you again against the cold brick, before stepping away. 

Your fingers fell to your collar, straightening the crumpled material. “You want me to forget. To pretend,” 

Ghost Kelley paused, her shoulders rolling as she turned back to you, her eyes hard, unfriendly. 

“No.” She said slowly, her shows clicking as she took a menacing step towards you.“We want you to understand the difference between remembering and wallowing in your pain,” 

Her finger found its way to your chest, and she leaned in close to you again. “You waste the care people have for you. You must change before they lose it and you lose them,” 

The finger on your chest shoved hard, enough for you to stumble back. You expected to hit the wall, but you didn’t. 

Before you knew it, you were falling. 

*****

“Oof,” 

Your breath left your lips as your back contacted the ground, and white, powdery snow billowed around you. Your hands fell to your stomach, as you sucked in as much air as you could get, hoping to calm your racing heart. 

At least Mia had helped you calm down before she banished you away. It would be hard to not hold the ghost's cruelty against the real-life Kelley. 

You took in another deep breath, blowing it out slowly through your nose, counting to 5 in your head, trying to use the technique that your therapist had shown you. 

At least she didn’t think you were living in the past. She didn’t have a problem with your preferred Christmas celebration. 

… though she had suggested you send out thank you notes this year as surprise Christmas gifts. You hadn’t because you weren’t ready yet. You and Tyler had never exchanged formal gifts. 

You shook your head, carefully pushing yourself to a sitting position, and running a hand through your hair. Maybe you were living a bit in the past. 

But you could fix that. A couple of notes and then neither your therapist nor the stupid ghost of Kelley could look at you like you were broken again. 

Notes weren’t a big deal. 

You dragged your hand down, squeezing the bridge of your nose. 

Doing the notes would show Kelley and your therapist that they were wrong. 

“Took you long enough,” 

Your entire being froze at his voice, your back instantly going rigid. It brought you back to your childhood. 

“Fucking Christ,” You muttered. “First I get my hero who shows me my worst memories, then I get my team mom who shows me all of my friends talking about me behind my back and now I get you,” 

“You get me,” Your father said softly, and you could feel his large form settle beside you. “I am the ghost of Christmas future,” 

You couldn’t help the way you instinctively tensed. 

“Future that is, or that will be?” You asked, finally gathering the courage to look up at him. 

You slowly dropped your hand, peeking up at him through your fingers. You were slightly surprised when the sight didn’t send a shiver down your spine like it used to. 

Your father’s form was imposing as it always had been, but his face wasn’t as… mean. His beard looked unkempt and there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in years.

It made you feel almost… sorry for him. As did the long, heavy chain that encircled the two of you, bound to his wrists and ankles. 

You knew he had earned that chain. Forged each link with hatred and pain. 

“The future as it is,” He answered, his blue eyes a cloudy gray, kinder than they had been since your mother died. “Its fluid, so nothing is set until the present becomes the past,” 

He shifted beside you, as if he wanted to rest a hand on you, but thought better of it. You had never seen him so hesitant. 

He had been cold and rigid since your mother passed, never bending and forcing you to break. 

“Why did they send you?” 

You couldn’t help the way you sneered the word. 

Your father sighed, running a hand through his messy curls, much like you did when you were nervous. “It is too late for me to change my fate, but it’s not too late for you. I’m part of the reason you are in the situation you are in. I wished to help fix it,” 

You swallowed hard, looking away. 

Do it for yourself. Closure is important. Your brother's voice rang through your head like a bell, and you bit your lip. 

You nodded. Fighting whatever the stupid ghosts wanted to do would get you nowhere, and the sooner you listened, the sooner you could leave your father and never look back, 

“Show the way then,” You muttered through gritted teeth. 

It came out more vindictive than you meant it to, and his shoulders hunched slightly. 

It should have made you feel good after everything he had done, but it didn’t. It made your chest hurt. It made you feel like you were a bad person. 

Your father hummed, waving his hand. “That way,” 

You squinted in the direction of his hand as the fog slowly disappeared around you, revealing large rolling hills spotted with stones. You frowned. 

You knew where you were, and you shouldn’t have been surprised. You had heard a Christmas Carol before. 

“Is this the part where you show me that I’m dead and no one gives a fuck?” You asked with a rye smile, pushing yourself to your feet. “Which one of these graves is mine?” 

Your father raised an eyebrow at you, gesturing off towards your left. 

You nodded, moving in the direction he pointed. He fell into step beside you.

Your eyes traced the smooth, gray stones as you passed them, only stopping when you came upon the one with your name on it. 

You crouched beside it, brushing away the snow that had fallen, slightly obscuring your name. You paused when you got to your last name, I’m taking a sharp breath when you saw the little hyphen. Sonnett-Horan. 

You blinked up at your father. “I took their names?” 

Your father nodded once. “You wanted to honor them, and your own last name held no memories you wanted to keep,” 

You hummed. You could see yourself doing that. The only pride you held in your name was the number of goals you had scored while it was etched across your jersey. Other than that, all your last name held was pain. You didn’t want to carry on your father's lineage. 

Not after what he had done. 

“Anna wait!” 

Your head snapped towards the sound. 

“I wanna see Momma,” The little voice called over her shoulder. 

It belonged to a girl, no older than five, racing towards you. Her hair was blonde, sharing a striking similarity with Emily’s. 

It stole the breath from your lips. 

“I know,” The other voice said. A slightly older voice, belonging to a little boy. His brown hair was combed to the side, and his jacket fluttered as he chased after the girl, finally catching up with her several feet from the grave. Anna. 

He said as they stopped right in front of you.“Mommy has the flowers. We should have waited for her,” 

Anna blinked up at him with big blue eyes, gesturing towards the grave at your feet. “I just… I missed her Tyty,” 

“I know,” He sighed, running a hand through his slightly curly hair. “I miss her too,” 

You used the corner of your shirt to wipe the sudden wetness in the corner of your eyes. 

“Who are these kids?” You asked, looking up at your father, his eyes looked slightly misty too. 

“My grandchildren,” He said. “Tyler just turned 8 and Annamarie is 4,” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but you couldn’t seem to find your words. 

And a new voice made it so you didn’t have to. 

“When did you two get so fast?” 

Your eyes snapped up to meet Emily’s blue. Identical to the blue of the little girl. AnnaMarie. 

She was a little older than your present-day Emily. The wrinkles by her eyes were a little more prominent, and you spotted a few gray hairs peeking through her bun, but nothing else had really changed. 

The boy smirked, nudging Emily with his shoulder. “You’re just getting slow mommy,” 

“Very funny,” She chuckled, taking a shaky breath when her eyes landed on the grave. 

Your grave. 

“She looks tired,” You muttered. 

“She is,” Your father said cryptically, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away to address him. 

Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth as she pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind her back, passing them to the boy. 

The boy took them gingerly like they were made of glass. 

“Hey Momma,” He said, carefully placing the flowers right in front of your headstone. “We miss you. Mommy put the tree up in the basement this year,” 

“Mama hasn’t come to see it yet,” The little girl said. The boy, Tyler, stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Aunt Kelley says it’s the prettiest tree she’s ever seen,”

You blew out a breath. “What does she mean?” 

“Last Christmas you and Lindsey argued over lights,” Your father said slowly, carefully. Too carefully. “It turned into a fight about how much you detest her favorite holiday. How you refuse to… bend. You walked out, and never came back,” 

“She blames herself,” You filled in easily. 

“She’s struggling,” He agreed. “She can barely find the energy to leave her bed, and when she does, well she’s just not the same. They came close to losing her too, and they’ll come close again tonight,” 

Your entire being froze. 

That couldn’t be true. Lindsey wouldn’t- 

You shook your head, shoving yourself to your feet and turning on your father. “You’re lying to me,” 

He held his hands up in defense, his long chain clinking as he took a step back from you, but you weren’t having it. 

“What? No comment?” You hissed, unbridled anger bubbling in your chest. How dare he try and tell you that Lindsey lost her love for Christmas. That she would ever- you couldn’t even think of the word. 

Your father shook his head, taking another step back, but you took the step with him. You had too much rage. Too much anger to stop. 

“Momma,” The little girl's voice said softly, hesitantly, and it was like an instant balm to your hot rage. 

You couldn’t help but turn back toward it, noticing that Emily and Tyler were already walking back towards where their care should be, kneeling so you were eye level with her. “Yes, baby?” 

“I know you don’t like Christmas,” She started, her little hands shaking as she reached into her puffy pink jacket, pulling out a toy Christmas tree with a little smiling face. “But Mama says no one should be alone. Mr. Tree will keep you company,” 

“Come on Anna,” Tyler called. 

The girl nodded. She placed the tree next to the bouquet, and carefully pushed herself to her feet. “Merry Christmas Momma,” 

With that, she sprinted away. 

“Merry Christmas baby,”

Your words hung in the air, even if you knew no one could hearthem. 

You didn’t care. 

You couldn’t allow this to be the future. You couldn’t allow your kids or Emily to lose you and Lindsey before either of them could even qualify for a u15 tournament. You couldn’t let Lindsey lose her joy. Not like you had lost yours. 

“Take me back,” You demanded, again shoving yourself up and turning to face him, running your sleeve over your wet eyes “Now! This will not be my future,” 

He held his hands up again, the chains hanging heavily from his wrists. “This is your future,” 

“For now!” You yelled back. 

You would not allow it to be your future. You would pretend to love Christmas if you had to, or let Lindsey put up god knows how many lights up if that is what it took. 

“Pretending to like a holiday isn’t enough to change it” “Your father said, equally as forcefully. 

“Then what is?!” You snapped back, desperation clear in your voice. 

You could not let Lindsey face that fate. You couldn’t let Emily lose both of you.

Your father shook his head. “Ebenezer Scrooge’s vice was greed and his greatest fear was being forgotten. Your vice is pain, and your fear is that others will be forced to suffer with you. You have to learn to let them in. Learn that letting them help you isn't a weakness. That letting go isn’t betraying your mother and Tyler,” 

You stepped back as though you had been slapped, but your father wasn’t done. 

“I forced you to suffer not because we shared grief, but because I couldn’t move past mine. Do not make the same mistakes that I did,” His voice shook as he spoke, and it cut straight to your soul. 

The same words Tyler and ghost Kelley had said to you. 

“I-“ The words got stuck in your mouth, even if you weren’t sure exactly what they were. 

“Change,” Your father said seriously, his hand falling heavily on your shoulder and his cloudy eyes piercing into yours. “Your fate deserves better than mine,” 

You swallowed hard, frowning as a familiar tune floated its way through the air. 

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time. 

*******

You sucked in an icy breath as you jerked away, your eyes flying wide as you scrambled to stay upright in your chair. 

“Holy shit,” 

Your voice was little more than a wheeze, and your fingers clawed at your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart. 

It was all too much. 

“Where the fuck is a ghost now when I need help calming down,” You muttered cynically, glancing around your apartment. 

The 1996 World Cup final rolled across the screen, lighting up your couch and your blanket-covered feet. You could hear the cheer of the crowd, but it didn’t give you the same tingles that walking onto the pitch surrounded by them did, and simply having a wonderful Christmas time blasting from the floor above you. 

You looked to your left, counting the beer bottles. One, two, you paused. Nestled just behind the 3rd was a small, plastic Christmas tree that wasn’t there before. 

The only proof that your night was more than just a beer-induced dream. Proof that it was real. 

You reached for it, turning him over in your hand so his smiling face looked up at you. 

“Hi mister tree,” You said softly, your finger running over his wide smile. It filled you with warmth.“You’re right, no one should be alone on Christmas,” 

You glanced up at the clock, frowning at the bright 9:30 still blinking at you. You were sure it had been midnight when you went to bed. You were sure that… you shook your head. It didn’t matter, not now. 

You opened your phone, calling for an Uber, taking a deep breath. 

You could do this. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, the tree clutched tightly in your hand as you pulled on your jacket, scarf, and hat. 

You still had time to change your fate. 

*****

Your fingers twisted in your beanie as you stood in front of Kelley’s apartment door. 

You had never felt more nervous in your entire life. Not when you were waiting to play the World Cup, or when you were getting ready for your first PK shootout. 

You weren’t sure why you had taken your hat off of your head. You weren’t sure why you were so worked up, but you were. 

You had been invited, even if you turned it down. They were your friends, they wouldn’t shut the door on you, even if that’s what you deserved. 

You closed your eyes letting the soft sounds of you’re a mean one Mr. Grinch wash over you for a long second before slowly lifting your hand and knocking on the door. 

There was a rustle behind the door, the sound of the music turning down, and you couldn’t help but twist your beanie again. 

You had interrupted them. You considered walking away, but you didn’t have time before the door slowly swung open. 

“Speak of the grinch and she shall appear,” You mumbled, shooting the defender a shy smile. “I uh… I wasn’t sure if your invite still stood, but um…” 

“Come on,” Kelley smiled widely at you interrupting your rambling, her hand landing on your shoulder and she squeezed gently. “You’re always invited,” 

You bobbed your head, swallowing hard and allowing her to guide you into the living room. “I uh.. didn’t bring anything for the secret Santa,” 

“Don’t worry about it,” She hummed, taking your coat. “You being here is enough,” 

Her hands still sent a shiver down your spine. A reminder of ghost Kelley, and her harsh words. 

“As long as you’re sure,” You said, showing More vulnerability than you normally would. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” She sent you another soft smile, shaking her head. “Everyone is in the living room. I’ll even get you a-“

“Fireball Manhattan,” You finished, already moving towards the room. 

Her head tilted to the side as she trailed after you. “How did you know that was the surprise drink this year?” 

You shrugged. “Just a hunch,” 

“Good hunch,” She hummed suspiciously. “Look who I found,” 

She gestured towards you as you entered the living room. 

The team paused for a split second as if they couldn’t believe you had actually come before you were being surrounded. 

“Hey, Scrooge does have a heart,” 

“Glad you could come down from mount crumpet,” 

Your cheeks flamed as Christen pulled you into a tight hug and Tobin patted your back. “Lindsey and Em are gonna be so excited,” 

You let the hug go on, glancing for the two aforementioned women. “Where are they?”

“Linds wanted some water,” Christen said, kissing the side of your head, and you wilted slightly. 

That meant that they knew why you didn’t like Christmas. The team had already told them. Lindsey had already gotten upset. 

“Em followed her into the kitchen,” Tobin said, tilting her head towards the door. “Just be careful of hiding mistletoe,” 

You nodded, and Christen patted you towards the kitchen. You waved towards Alex, Megan, Sue and the youngins before pushing your way into the kitchen. 

You knew the scene that you were walking into to. You had already seen it, but that didn’t change how it made your heart clench to see Emily wrapped around Lindsey’s back, her chin resting on her shoulder. 

“Maybe we can head over to her apartment after tomorrow, and bring her Thai food or something. It’ll be like a tradition of our own,”

“I think that sounds amazing,” You answered, leaning on the counter. “Drunken noodles are my favorite,” 

Their heads whipped around to face you, and a breathtaking smile broke across Lindsey’s face.

“You came,”

You shifted uncomfortably against the counter. “my game got kinda boring,” 

Emily hummed, pushing herself off of Lindsey and taking a step towards you. “No other reason?”

Red painted itself across your cheeks, and you scratched the back of your neck. “I uh. I also wanted to make sure the two of you were safe tonight, and I wanted to spend time with you,” 

“You’re cute,” Emily smirked, holding her hands out and pulling you into a careful hug.

You leaned into it, burying your nose in her shoulder before Lindsey pulled you into her instead. 

“We got you a present if you want it,” She said softly into your hair. 

You gulped again. You hadn’t exchanged presents since your mother died. “I didn’t get you guys anything, really. 

Lindsey pulled back, her dimples showing. “You brought you, and that’s all I wanted for Christmas,” 

“I’ll go grab it, you two stay put,” Emily said from behind you, and you heard the sound of the door. 

“I’m not very good at this,” You admitted. 

Lindsey’s smile widened, her dimples getting deeper as she ran a careful thumb over your cheek. “You’re doing alright so far,” 

You nodded, swallowing at the sound of the door and Emily’s warmth returning behind you. She passed a small, thin gift over your shoulder and you took it gingerly, staring down at the bright red paper. 

“This is called a present,” Emily jested. “You’re supposed to rip it open,” 

“I know that,” You mumbled, thumbing the corner of the paper. “I just-“ 

“Just say thank you,” Lindsey said instead, her thumb-stopping the word on your lip. 

You nodded. “Thank you,” 

“You’re welcome,” Lindsey hummed, nudging your cheek with her nose. “Now open it,” 

You nodded, your thumb catching the edge of the paper and slowly tearing it away. Your breath caught at the sight of red and white fabric. It was soft against your fingers and the sight alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“We know Arsenal is your favorite team,” Emily said slowly.

“So we thought a new beanie might be a good idea,” Lindsey finished, worrying her bottom lip. 

“It’s perfect,” 

It came out of your mouth before you could stop it, watery and vulnerable, but you felt safe nestled between these two women. 

“I um-“ You awkwardly ran your finger over the Arsenal logo of the red and white hat, tracing the little cannon. The same cannon you had given your brother. The same one he had pulled on his head the last time you saw him. “I don’t know a lot about Christmas, but I want to learn if you’re willing to teach me?” 

“Well, our favorite tradition is the mistletoe,” Emily said, and you could hear her smirk in her tone as she pointed towards the ceiling. “Traditionally you kiss when you're under it,” 

You chuckled, tilting your head as Lindsey leaned in and pressed a very soft kiss to your lips. It took your brain a second to catch up, but you reciprocated as soon as you did, leaning into her as she pulled away. Chasing her lips. 

Emily hummed, catching your chin and pulling you away from Lindsey and towards her, connecting your lips. 

“I think I could get used to these traditions,” 

You still weren’t sure exactly where you stood on Christmas, but what you did know was that you wanted these women with you as you figured it out. You wanted to give them everything. You were ready to let them in. 

[derekscorner]

DmC: Devil's Tangent and Reboots Cry

I found a few shockingly new reviews of the failed reboot this week and it spurred an itch in my mind. I decided to replay the definitive edition to see how I felt about it five years after my last post about the reboot. Now a full 10+ years since the original release.

And what can I say? A lot has been said about this er "venture" over the years and a whole slew has been revealed thanks to youtubers doing full dives into it's dev cycle.

The youtuber Foxcade has an amazing series on it.

Of all the things you'll discover the most valuable one to me is the hilarious "gay cowboy" presentation and the push by Capcom themselves to make the game as different as possible.

That doesn't absolve the fans nor devs of our immature behavior at the time. (I won't deny being a petty bitch back then) But it is worth noting that Capcom was amidst it's poor decision to appeal to western audiences back then. To an excessive amount.

In essence, Ninja Theory were being told to make it different which pissed off fans which then fed into the petty back and worth between everyone involved.

The sad part is that you see a glimpse of something interesting in some of the concept art. Just like at these early drafts for Donte and Kat:

A drastic shift even here but you can see a bit of the old series bleeding through. I find it a shame we'll never truly know what ideas for the world and story were built around these early ideas.

But maybe you're not like me and like to ponder what-ifs. Perhaps you're someone who was disappointed with the gameplay. A fair criticism the initial released had.

It's hard to put into words just how fun classic DMC is but if you've played DMC1, DMC3, DMC4 or DMC5 you know what I'm talking about.

In fact, making this in a post DMC5 world makes the contrast stronger. A few small aspects of this reboot was used in DMC5 but more importantly DMC5 is the peak of the classic gamemplay.

It's skill ceiling is even higher than before yet it's skill floor low enough for anyone.

The reboot lacked even the most basic DMC features like the lock-on. It was also far easier with a style system that cared about damage dealt over style.

I could go further into it but there's no real need too due to the definitive edition existing. If you're morbidly curious about the reboot just trust me and play that definitive version if possible.

It has a turbo mode and it adds a hardcore mode that shifts several gameplay mechanics to be like classic DMC. It also adds a lock-on but I find the lock-on hard to use personally.

DMC has so much of it's button space ate up thanks to the angel-demon mode mechanic that I find lock-on hard to use properly unless I just forwent the other weapons as much as I can.

Even with button mapping it's an issue I found my skill suffering from.

Another wholly personal issue I have is with the weapon doors. The game will force you to use a weapon and it's built for you to swap often but I prefer certain ones so having to constantly swap to open pathways or affect the environment annoys me.

I'd also like to say the definitive edition's greatest change was making the colored enemies susceptible to every weapon. This is true, any weapon can damage now. Though, they chose to make colored enemies only stunned by the proper weapon.

It's a half fix to a problem that'd have been best removed entirely. Colored weapons, in any game mind you, is a horrible idea that should never be done.

I don't want to talk you out of trying it if you have access to the definitive edition. It does do a lot more right than I can put into words but these are gripes I do have about it personally.

But even this is minor. Even now, five years later, I find the biggest offense of the reboot was the characters.

Character Assassination in Motion

Many would say that story is the biggest offense and to an extent I agree. It's overly edgy to the point of giving you second hand embarrassment. Dante swears like that kid in middle school that just learned they could.

And do we really need that seen of two demons fucking? The definitive edition removed Vergil's fedora yet they don't remove this? What was even the intention here? To tell me that Mundus fucks?

He's a demon king, nowhere near human, you could tell me he has hundreds of demon whores or that he sweats out spawn. Anything but that scene...

You could argue the same for the opening cinematic as well but now that I'm on a Mundus rant let's focus on that.

Hell runs on Debt I guess?

Mundus had a larger background role in classic DMC but a small on-screen presence. He's meant to show just how amazing classic Sparda's rebellion and victory was. He's also a good first villain for Dante to defeat in the classic universe.

What I mean to say is that I do not consider this reboot Mundus a character assassination per say but I am very confused by the character direction.

The game outright confirms he's immortal thanks to his hell gate. His power as a demon king, while less impressive than classic, is still worth note in this universe.

He's the one either creating Limbo or holding it over the human world since it collapses with the hell gate sealed and Mundus dead. He is a powerful being by all rights of measure to the point that I do not know why he's ruling the human world through debt and deceit.

Yes, yes, I know it's due to the "fight the man" message. One they effectively stole from the film 'They Live'. But even beyond that it just makes him seem so silly.

He has no reason to do this. He could rule the human world through might alone and honestly have an easier time doing so. It makes him feel less imposing to be honest.

He's practically silly between his paradigm of rule and cringy lines.

El Donté will never die

Truth be told I actually grow less offended by ol Donté as time goes on. I do not consider him well written and a good portion of the game is his awful one liners falling flat.

HE'S the kid from middle school that curses like he just discovered he could. But both five years ago and now I do see what they were attempting to do.

Donté has a subtle (somewhat poorly done) character arc. His swing in personality begins once he regains his memories but I do not see that change alone as bad. It's quite believable for a personality to shift with a new flux of memories to dictate your actions.

You will notice him curse less as the story progresses as he takes the mission more seriously. He believes in Vergil's perceived goal more than Vergil himself.

They also attempt to tie his attachment to humanity through his connection to Kat but I don't think they sell it quite as well as they had hoped. It's blatant he cares about Kat yes but they more share a hatred of demons than they display a deepening affection for humanity.

Caring for one human is not the same as caring for every human.

I would also argue that Donté actually had this underlining quality of compassion. The game does not showcase or build upon it but I did notice in that one scene the definitive edition added right after they rescue Kat.

The twins are arguing about Vergil's actions and the lives lost in Mundus' rampage. Vergil rights it off as a sin for him to bear but what caught my attention was when Donté says:

"you have no right to decide the fate of so many"

That right there showed me a semblance of a core aspect of classic Dante. A semblance that should've had more focus to sell this Dante. You don't have to just redo classic Dante if you wish to reboot but I would argue that compassion for people needs to be present.

You even come across Phineas, a demon. It feels a bit odd for Donté, out of character even, yet he does show some level of compassion by aiding Phineas.

It wasn't for purely altruistic reasons but it is worthy of note.

Of course, you may find this whole scene somewhat out of character for Donté or at least I do. Donté has no reason to hate his father like classic Dante did in his youth yet just being compared to him bothered Donté in this scene.

This is the only time Donté shows a dislike for being cared to his father based on the fact that Sparda was a demon. If anything, this Donté should has more positive or amical feelings about Sparda than his counter part given his sacrifice.

This also circles back into the sparing of Phineas. If Donté hates demons that much to reject comparisons to his father then his compassion should've have shown through in aiding him.

Although, I guess you can chalk that up to his character arc and its attempt to show some level of change.

Donté has a compelling characteristic hidden under all the cringe as it were. I'd even go as far as to say that this Dante did have potential by the end of the game.

Had he the opportunity to expand in a sequel he may have very well become a Donté worth praise. He'll never replace the whacky woo hoo pizza man but that doesn't mean the didn't have potential at all.

Heck, you could've even repurposed classic Sparda's legend for Donté. He's fundamentally not human yet feels a compassion for them.

The game tries to give him these human moments but he is not human. He could've been this universe's dark knight Sparda and we could've seen what aspects of humanity he adopts.

A "monster wishing to be human" as it were.

Spells in a spray can

Given that she's a new character entirely I can't really call her character assassinated but I also can't really say that much about her.

She's meant to tie Donté to humanity but rather than shows him growing a fondness for humanity she is just a love interest instead.

I do not consider her a bad character I just wish they did something a bit more with her. For example, in the prequel comic, in the Vergil DLC, or even in her own self explained backstory is a few interesting plot ploints.

Her step father was pedo demon piece of shit. The trauma of that awakened her ability to do astral projection. In the classic series humans were only shown to have magic in relation to demons.

But Kat shows that in this universe humans can have innate supernatural abilities. She's even capable of using spells that Vergil taught her going as far as to reinvent them into spray paint.

That's fucking interesting to me. Guns do little against demons but what if you had humans mixing that with the occult like Kat? There's ideas there. Potential!

I also find her dynamic with Vergil interesting. She's the closest any version of Vergil has shown to caring about someone not his kin...which is a bold statement to make given that classic Vergil has a son but you know what I mean.

It's blatant that her faith in Vergil is solid and perhaps more but more interesting is that Vergil seems to hold a fondness for her. Both in that aforementioned comic and even in his DLC.

She appears in his personal dlc hell because she's important enough to. What is that backstory? If she had to be a love interest show me that one.

A bit of a Fan Fic here

All that said there is one thing I would've personally changed. I'd love to see the things I listed above but if I could make one change to the story as is I would have likely killed Kat off here. ^

Or rather "partly". She can phase into Limbo so I would've had her ghost guide the twins and her final death would be with Limbo's collapse and Mundus' death.

Granting her a peaceful send off knowing that her efforts paid off.

I have no real reason for this change and given this change, her canon story, and the potential she could have I would honestly rather discard it all to see the potential she had that I listed above.

I added this because it's an intrusive thought I've had since I first played it in 2013 and it was a quick break away for me before we tackle-OH NO IT'S VERGIL!

The storm that is petering

Of all the characters the reboot used this is by far the one that's an outright character assassination. What was done to Vergil is a true travesty.

While Donté has some potential for growth his twin had every core aspect of Vergil ruined. This new Vergil has no codes of honor, he uses a gun to shoot a pregnant woman, let's her realize the baby is dead, then shoots her too.

"But she was a demon-" SHUSH. That doesn't change what is happening in this scene. Nothing about that scene is okay and it wouldn't be regardless of who did it.

Vergil being the one to pull the trigger was just the worst pick.

This isn't even the only issue. Yes it's the biggest one you can mention but a lot of the things that made classic Vergil cool or loved are just gone.

He uses a gun, he uses said gun for a cowardly act, he barely fights and when he does he's thrown aside fast by Mundus, and his overall master planner portrayal seems like a miss on the mark of what Vergil is perceived to be.

Classic Vergil is the type to visit libraries or read poetry, sure but he is by no means some master schemer. DMC3 is a clear testament to that.

Vergil is apathetic to humans, this is also true. Between the Temen-ni-gru and the Qliphoth classic Vergil indirectly killed millions of people spanning over several cities.

However, he does not view them as something to coddle. The reboot Vergil's desire to rule men seems odd due to this comparison and as a reboot of that old Vergil the comparison has to be made.

While Donté was raised in an orphanage and ran away due to demons, new Vergil was raised by rich human parents. A fact that I think they added solely due to how classic Vergil portrayed himself.

He just feels...weak by comparison. Both in mind and in body.

Donté even jokes about being the stronger twin. A fact of the duo that his dlc story presses on. It can be annoying since it basically boils down too "this is what classic Vergil did but lesser" at the end of the day.

They try to align him closer to that classic template in the DLC but it doesn't really sell the character shift.

If anything both main and dlc story open up a lot of questions that don't get answered. Such as;

"how did Vergil regain his memories?"

"At what point did he decide replace Mundus vs simply destroying him?"

"How come Vergil knows of the myth of the nephilim yet doesn't seem to know they were once a full race?"

"What reason does motivates him to coddle humanity?"

"Why is he so weak when he's had his powers longer?"

"How does he feel about Kat?"

Among other questions. Reboot Vergil does what the classic did worse yet the things about him that I'd like to know are never addressed.

The worst part is that I want to know. Despite how bad that hostage scene is, despite how lack luster he feels as a villain, I want to know these things because knowing them could've helped him step out of classic Vergil's shadow.

The more disassociated he is with classic Vergil he is the better a chance he'd have at being a better character in his own right.

A wasted Opportunity

Worse yet, I simply dislike his heel turn in mission 20. Yes, yes you can argue that there's signs of his nature throughout the story but there's a stark difference between that and the twins falling out.

Reboot Vergil shows that he's willing to do things to defeat Mundus that Donté won't but none of them indicated plans to take his place. At best, the only foreshadowing to that was Phineas' words to Donté earlier in the game. The whole "but who will replace him?" scene.

If anything I find this a huge wasted opportunity. The reboot is the only time we've seen an extended glimpse of the twins cooperating for a common goal. DMC3 had one mission and DMC5 has a great family drama it resolves but the reboot is the only time we've seen the twins be brothers.

You even see the biggest change to Vergil in this dynamic since Donté is the only person that Vergil seems to truly care for. He did not want to fight Donté, he didn't mind to leave him be and pursue his own goals, and most of the dlc's story is about Vergil letting go of that attachment.

The positives and negatives that come with it.

It's entirely a personal take but I do genuinely wish they had kept the twins allies in this universe had it continued.

Vergil's heel turn is out of nowhere yet it was added because DMC fans expect the twins to battle. But adding it solely because that's what the "old universe" did was such a waste of an idea.

Especially when the whole dev and marketing campaign went out of it's way to piss fans off. Conceding here just felt...I dont even know how to word it.

If they truly wanted to start anew or diverge from the classic universe then this was the best way they could've done it. Showing us a world in which the sons of Sparda are allies rather than enemies.

Ones pursuit of power pulling them forward while the others compassion keeping them from crossing boundaries they shouldn't.

Perhaps the twins could've helped humanity fend off the now revealed demons. Maybe they could've sought the missing angels or searched for more info about the first nephilim race.

There was so much there....oh well.

The Loreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I have no good transition, I've been writing for two hours, but screw it. I want to end this on the lore and world building. I don't have nearly as much to rant about with it but I think we all agree that this was the reboots biggest interesting hook.

The Classic DMC universe was described as being in two parts, the human world and the demonic one. Angels and gods are mentioned, some demons even having light or holy themes, but for the most part you can infer that these were merely demons ancient humans worshipped.

(it was described in the DMC4 special edition developer interviews I think)

In the reboot universe angels do exist yet we never see them. We also do not know how aligned this lore is to Judeo-Christian mythology either.

Does God exist in this universe? Are angels and demons merely waring races? Were they originally one race? These are things we don't know but things that you'll ask at least once.

Because Mundus rules the human world through debt and Limbo to mask the demonic presence from humanity.

It'll make you question were the angels are. Did they abandon humanity or did they even care to begin with?

How do the angels feel about nephilim? How can nephilim even exist as a race at one point if the angel and demon races are in constant war?

A rare circumstance is easy to imagine but for the nephilim to exist as a race at one point in time means they had numbers enough to be called so. Meaning there had to be a multitude of demons and angels to spawn them (presumably) willingly.

The demon Phineas also seemed to lament the nephilim's extinction so was that fear of them solely with Mundus? Better yet, how did he wipe them out when they're a race that supposedly rivaled demons in power?

Due to worldbuilding you could literally do anything here. Mundus was controlling the human world and information for a long time meaning angels, gods, and other things as humans in that world know them are possibly lies.

In turn, due to that same worldbuilding, you want to know why a whole ass race of beings antagonistic to demons are absent.

This world had potential to be built upon and it was abandoned. I will grant you, I would definitely prefer to keep the classic series even now but I won't deny the lore of this universe interests me.

I'll never get those answers and if given an option I will choose DMC6 over a DmC:DMC2 but still....WHERE THE F*CK ARE THE ANGELS????

Conclusion

My mind is fried now so I'll stop. The point is that this world had potential but it's use of classic characters and story just didn't do it any favors.

The fact that it's definitive edition is limited to PS4 and Xbox may also be hampering any future this story could've had.

You will also notice that I rarely mentioned new characters like Phineas or Mundus' demon whore but that's because they're new. They were "just there" to me or passable. The biggest issue I have with this reboot is how it characterized it's cast from the classic series.

If you've played this recently then do let me know what you thought. I'm gonna rest now, three hour write, no rough draft, just post. Bye~

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My other DMC Tangents: https://derekscorner.tumblr.com/tagged/dmctangent

[youareinlove]

I know that it’s probably dull, but can you tell me the topics of each midnights songs? I started following Taylor closely only this year (please don’t judge me for that, I know I’m kinda late to the party) and I missed out on a lot of the lore

also got this ask a while back so i'll answer them both! and dw, you're so good anon, new fans are always welcome here. feel free to ask me any questions you might have in the future as well! this is more talking about themes than who the songs are about so if you want to know that just ask separately

the story of the album is choices she's made throughout her life and how that's influenced who she is today. it's intense self-reflection and trying to figure out who you are after the dust settles from all the tumultuous life events you've gone through. context that helps frame why that self-reflection may have came about (at least part of the reason) is her grappling with potentially ending her 6-year relationship while writing the record

here's my take on how each of the songs are enriched by the others + their meanings (it's long). also not going to discuss you're losing me more than a little bit because if i do this will take me 5 hours to type up (it's about not feeling seen/heard/your partner being indifferent to you and your needs basically):

lavender haze - the song's about wanting to protect your relationship from the outside world and wanting everything to be between the two of you instead of everyone's business, to put it simply. it also has "all they keep asking me is if i'm gonna be your bride" which obviously becomes more interesting after "and i wouldn't marry me either" but even if you don't count ylm as a midnights song, "staring at the ceiling with you" and "you're in the kitchen humming" are the same genre of lyric. i think the picture she paints of her relationship is strengthened and paralleled by the picture painted in sweet nothing. also the parallels to paris (drew a map on your bedroom ceiling). most importantly though, she talks in the song about how he doesn't "read into my melancholia" which basically = not overanalyzing it if she's feeling depressed. that's a pretty strong thematic tie-in to anti-hero, where she worries that her depression will drive away her partner

maroon - maroon tells the story of a relationship that was really good at times and really bad at times, specifically one she was never really able to make sense of and that she thinks about years later. this ties into question really well (i'll get into that more later) but the thematic tie-ins of memory and reflection are all over midnights as a concept.

anti-hero - the main themes here are self-loathing, depression, anxiety, overthinking, (basically her demons) and how she worries they'll ruin her life, friendships, relationship, etc. the thing is that the other songs on midnights exist to prove those worries wrong. lavender haze talks about how her partner isn't deterred by her problems, you're on your own kid talks about how she's always able to build herself back up and be stronger, karma talks about how she deserves good things and gets them. anti-hero isn't strengthened by parallels the way other songs are, but it's a look into a part of herself that's contextualized as self-loathing and not self-awareness because of the other songs on the record.

snow on the beach - a lot of songs on midnights contradict each other because that's the point, and snow on the beach contradicts labyrinth. this song is about the beauty of falling in love and how fun and special it can feel, while labyrinth is about the anxiety surrounding the exact same event. despite these two things seeming contradictory, they're happening at the exact same time. but the cool thing about snow on the beach is that falling in love with someone new is shiny and special, and well, new, despite the relationships in maroon, question, and high infidelity all having the similar theme of making her wonder if she'll ever escape a toxic cycle. snow on the beach answers that question: she can and she does! love feels beautiful and new again!

you're on your own, kid - this one's a doozy. this song is about her career and how that progression affected her life. it's about her building herself back up again a million times. infinitely more interesting as a theme when you combine it with "i'm getting tired even for a phoenix / always rising from the ashes" (ylm). but also just it disproving anti-hero's worry that her career will crumble because of her (this song's message is basically that she made her career so strong, not the other way around) and the first verse is just "he wanted it it comfortable i wanted that pain" from midnight rain expanded. also some connecting themes with bejeweled and karma

midnight rain - so i could write an essay about how this song and you're losing me are connected (this is the main reason why i decided to leave ylm out of this for the most part) but the tldr is that she was in a relationship where a part of the reason why it was crumbling was his refusal/inaction when it came to marrying her, and this song is about running away from a life where the typical "marriage and kids and a dog" was on the table. all of midnights is about choices* but this one is possibly one of the strongest ties to that theme. the entire song is her wondering if she made the right choice when she chose to break up with someone who was definitely willing to settle down with her in favor of the life she has (fame and her career). it's also interesting when you contrast it with high infidelity, where she talks about "your picket fence as sharp as knives." this thing that she ran away from in favor of fame (and wants while writing the record) was also weaponized against her in the past.

question...? - question is about a situationship/short-lived relationship that's essentially a toxic cycle. there's some tie-ins to maroon with it also being about a relationship that was really amazing and really terrible, often at the same time. but the most enriching songs for this one are actually the love songs on the record. songs like lavender haze, paris, and sweet nothing illustrate that she was able to get out of the toxic cycle that she and this person found themselves in, albeit with someone else. so now she's asking this person (in her head) "did you? did you ever escape this? did you ever find someone to stare at the ceiling with or run home to?" which basically adds an entirely new layer to the song.

vigilante shit - this song is fantasizing about revenge against someone who wronged you, and there's a fair bit of gendered elements here about female rage. it's made stronger by anti-hero, because the "cunning revenge-seeking woman" rhetoric used against her is part of where her self-loathing comes from, and here she leans into that and kind of owns it. sort of a "yes i am a person who sometimes dabbles in revenge fantasies. sue me." also, it's somewhat contradictory to karma, because here she's the arbiter of justice, but in karma, it's a universal force that she doesn't have to be in control of.

bejeweled - bejeweled is about finding your power and shine again after being with someone who tried to diminish it. it connects to yoyok and karma because of the "i can come back and be shiny again" thing, but the main connection is with high infidelity, because high infidelity outlines exactly how that power and shine was diminished in the first place.

labyrinth - labyrinth is about the anxiety that comes with falling in love after you've been hurt before. i talked about this a little in the snow on the beach section but these two are contradictory/opposite sides of the same coin. while snow on the beach is about discovering that you can find love again after really shitty heartbreaks and that love can feel good and how magical that is, labyrinth is more "this has only gone wrong for me in the past." it ultimately ends on a triumphant note with her realizing that he's turned the metaphorical plane around, but it's very much the story of what happens when you try to love again after a relationship like maroon or question or high infidelity. anxiety basically!

karma - the song's about the people who wronged her who are going to get knocked down simply for being bad people and that she's on the up because she's reaping the rewards from her years of trusting her gut and doing the right thing. she's basically saying that the dust has settled, she was on the right side of history, and the world knows it now. likewise, the people who weren't are finally experiencing repercussions for their actions because they're flopping. in many ways it's the successor to vigilante shit. there, she wants revenge and justice so badly, and here, it's happened and she didn't even have to break up a marriage or report someone to the FBI, the universe took care of it! also, it disproves the fears in anti-hero and confirms the message in yoyok.

sweet nothing - this is about how the mundane beauty in her relationship is really important to her because it blocks out a lot of the noise from her outside life, which is very hectic and chaotic. it's really similar to lavender haze in that way. also the "industry disruptors and soul deconstructors" are the people in who hurt her vigilante shit, karma, and yoyok.

mastermind - going to resist the urge to write an essay about this song but it's going to be hard. on the surface level, mastermind is about how she planned out her and her partner meeting for the first time even though she made it look like an accident of fate. when you look deeper, it's about her as a person more than it is her relationship: how she feels like she needs to plan things out and be two steps ahead at all times, but it comes from a deep desire to be loved and wanted. the first two lines of the bridge show the main connections: "no one wanted to play with me as a little kid" = the first verse of yoyok, and "so i've been scheming like a criminal ever since" = the scheming she fears will destroy her relationship in anti-hero. which is so interesting by the way, because she worries that her treading the line of manipulation and intense care is going to make her partner stop loving her but it does the opposite! in the song, he tells her that he knew the whole time and finds her "scheming" to be a good thing. (anti-hero gets disproved like a million times lol). also it contradicts glitch but i'll talk about that more in glitch's section because this one is already too long.

3 am tracks (i have less to say about these because they're a lot simpler to comprehend as far as connections and i've already talked about a lot of them):

the great war - so you're losing me's existence makes her motives for writing this song interesting in and of itself, but that is a different post ngl. this song is about a really big fight with her partner and how they came back from that. it's the thing she feared happening in labyrinth but it doesn't disintegrate them like she thought it would, and it's a good example of a moment when she feels like she was "the problem" like in anti-hero, except she doesn't get lost in the self-loathing here and works on it.

bigger than the whole sky - i feel like it would be disrespectful to discuss this too much, so i'll just say that it contributes to the themes of loss and fate vs control. the song is about grief and loss with some hints of religious trauma.

paris - paris is just the picture of love, and a pretty good example of when they were in the "lavender haze." also "i wanna brainwash you into loving me forever" is SO interesting when you pair it with the entirety of mastermind.

high infidelity - this song is about an incredibly toxic relationship where you feel trapped and like your trust is being violated, and meeting someone who gives you the courage to leave. bejeweled is basically the aftermath of this relationship, and how she feels like she's free to reclaim the parts of herself that she was hiding/being made to hide, midnight rain is another song that grapples with the "good wife" vs "career woman" dynamic, and so does lavender haze albeit differently (writing this is making me realize how many marriage themes were on this album. which was a fucking neon sign in hindsight). also this song just provides a lot of context for where she was before the relationship in sotb, labyrinth, etc.

glitch - glitch is about thinking someone is going to be a casual fling and then you trip and fall and they end up your partner of 6 years (she literally says 2190 days in the song lmfao it's so unserious). it's biggest enrichment comes from mastermind, which seems like the total opposite at first glance (contradiction!!!) but then you realize it actually makes total sense. in mastermind, she's planning them meeting up and knows exactly what she wants (him), and in glitch, she's shocked when they actually end up together. but the additional context from high infidelity/sotb/labyrinth tells you that it was complicated af and that both of these things were happening at the same time and it makes no sense and all the sense.

would've, could've, should've - sigh. this song is about having your innocence and girlhood taken from you because of a toxic relationship with someone who's much older and has no business being with someone who was a child yesterday. the hints of religious trauma in bttws? yeah blow that up times a hundred and you get what's going on here. midnights as an album is all about choices and part of that is grappling with the regret surrounding them. in every other song, the verdict is that regret is out and understanding that your past makes you you and that has to be accepted is in. but wcs is blatant regret. its message is strengthened more by the concept of midnights than individual songs, in the sense that it makes a statement through its contrasting values.

dear reader - the song is like, the perfect closer to midnights for a million reasons. it's about a time in her life when she was just not well, and she describes a whole bunch of destructive behaviors in it. it's framed as her giving advice, but then you realize that you're not supposed to take it. "never take advice from someone who's falling apart", "you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking", "you should find another guiding light, but i shine so bright", etc. in many ways, it's anti-hero's older sister. the stuff she hates about herself in anti-hero is dived into real deep in dear reader. you thought "when my depression works the graveyard shift" was dark? try "my fourth drink in my hand, these desperate prayers of a cursed man." while i wouldn't go so far as to say it recontextualizes anything, it definitely provides another side to a lot of songs on the album by emphasizing where she was in life. the thing about midnights is that one truth doesn't cancel out another, they all exist at the same time and in multitudes. but this song also shines a light on the progress she's made in many areas, because sweet nothing is like, the furthest thing from "to a house not a home all alone cause nobody's there."

good lord this ended up being so long wtf. thank you for coming to my ted talk, sorry for turning your dash into scroll simulator 2000

[andithil]

32. boyfights

32. A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards. This is almost a month late, and I did actually start it when I got this ask, but then I got stuck and didn't look at it for weeks. Tale as old as time lmao. BUT I have been informed of anon's identity... and since it's still technically her birthday where she lives, I managed to finish it up tonight. SO. Happy birthday @alivingsaint! Thank you for enabling me, and have some trashbros as a treat <3

Michael had never been so viscerally aware of just how long it'd been since he last slept with a woman. He held his breath, jaw clenched as Gob tightened his arms around him.

Had he always been this clingy?

Dumb question. Michael knew he had. But for whatever reason, this particular assault felt never-ending. He tried to shift his hips away at the very least, but Gob wasn't having it, clutching Michael closer and whining towards the ceiling about some problem he was having at work. What that work entailed, Michael wasn't exactly clear.

"Why don't you talk to them about it instead of me, huh?" he tried, desperate to escape before things got worse.

"Because! I can't have them thinking I'm weak, Mike," Gob's voice strained. "I'm not like you!"

Really, Michael should've thanked him for the moment of reprieve the insult provided. "Alright, well," he said, trying to shift back again. "I'm not sure I can be much help, so…"

Gob dug his fingers into Michael's shoulders intently, locking him in place. "You are helping, guy. You're like a therapist I don't have to pay."

Michael blinked, twice. The first time he opened his eyes, Gob's lips filled his vision. The second time he caught his gaze.

"Besides," Gob continued with that infuriating smirk and tilted head, "you can always help me in other ways. Been a long time."

The weight of his words ran through Michael like liquid lightning. It really didn't take that much, did it? Maybe Gob was right after all. Michael was weak. In the split second before their mouths crashed together, he squeezed his eyes shut, a futile attempt to block out at least one element of the reality he'd caved into so easily.

The other elements were a different story. Gob's hungry moan reverberated through Michael's skull, his teeth sharp against Michael's lip. He tasted vaguely like mustard and vodka. It was barely noon, but Michael found he couldn't care less. His hands snaked up to clutch around Gob's ears, holding him steady as his tongue delved for more and Gob's body melted impossibly closer.

It wasn't until their twin bulges ground together that Michael jerked back on instinct, breaking the kiss. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to ignore the sick throbbing against his fly. He panted heavily, forehead pressed against Gob's, his brother's breath ghosting over his cheek. Time was at a standstill. He couldn't look. Couldn't face this weakness of his, not again. He felt Gob's fingers dig tighter into his arms.

Michael's eyes cracked just enough to see Gob's eyelashes fanned over his freckled cheeks.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Fuck.

[swiftpascal]

Hi, I don’t know if you remember me but I came to Sara to kinda talk about my experience wowing a a male actors fandom and you said that I can come to you if I ever needed to talk about it.

I hope it’s ok because I have some stuff I need to get off my chest.

You did guess right it was the Chris Evans fandom. I know you don’t know much but I just need to vent because it becoming to much and have no other source to get it off my chest.

I just saw a blog talk about why his brother nothing posting anymore and basically saying that it’s because he was not getting any attention from Chris’s fans like before and it’s not because the fandom became toxic and he is protecting himself. Also for context he was on a podcast and did say that the fandom was toxic, so people were upset at the time. I also don’t like the brother but that’s a different story.

What got me was the fact that they still don’t see that they are toxic and delusional. But also their behaviour was borderline criminal.

Let’s start with this, they have called him out for flaunting his relationship and shoving it out faces and the calling out privacy. When all that is not fucking true. You know why it’s not true? Because what they calling shoving in our faces is the fans stalking every human being around him and then using normal videos and images to say they are outing themselves.

They used to go into his following list and go into every single profile that belonged to a single woman and stalk her for information, and then stalk the people she is close with for more information. It’s how they found out about Alba. And then they would take images Ana analyse angles, ceiling lights, tvs, and furniture to prove they were together. They had pictures private picture from inside his house of angles we have not seen, and his vacation home and they would compare and contrast. And then they used that as evidence of them being together.

Just because that it proved that they were together doesn’t make your behaviour ok or anyway acceptable. But can you are give with that? No because they are doing it on purpose. When in reality they weren’t because they were not publicly together not for another year. So for an entire year they were stalking everyone in his and her life to analyse ever picture and story to prove that they were together. And then call him and loser, attention seeking wash out actor doing this to keep his career going.

They would say the most unhinged things about him and then when someone starts commenting disgusting stuff about him and his family under his or his brothers posts they would turn around and say that’s not cool we don’t do that.

I kid you not they were people on here that would drive conversation to disgusting places and then pretend they are not part of the problem.

They criticised him for everything under the sun. His looks, his hair, his clothes his personality his family. They didn’t spar him and messy but would then say I don’t agree with that behaviour when they get attacked.

They did the most unhinged bullying I have ever seen, there were photos he’d images, name calling and mean nick names, and they had the most unhinged theories that they were spreading around and making people believe they were real and it would spread from here to other platforms and then they would turn around and say we did nothing.

They tracked a private flight for years, trying to see where he was. And they talked about it like it’s normal.

And EVERYONE participated, his you going to any blog and think they seem like normal sane fans who do not indulge in these types of problematic behaviours, you are wrong. There was not a single safe space in that fandom.

When you would call them out they would a 100% defend themselves to the bone and then call you the ugliest of names and a defender to shut you up because their bad behaviour is ok because Alba and her friends are problematic people and deserve it.

I am not saying they don’t deserve being called out for the problematic shit they have done and said but don’t pretend you are better because you wouldn’t do what they have done, because trust me they have said things on the same level.

It’s amazing to me how people believe that just can say whatever about a person and spread rumours and think it’s ok because they don’t like their behaviour

Sorry for the wrong rant but I just can’t take it anymore. Everyone once in a while I would go into hostage or return to a favourite blog to see that they are still stuck in the same place.

Hello, good afternoon, how are you? Like I said, you could come talk to me, if you wanted to talk about something more specific that Sara couldn't say much about, from what I talked to her privately or openly, she's not very knowledgeable about male actors' fandom, to be honest, with my experience, I might be a little more knowledgeable than her. Second or first thing, you can choose, because I'm not very good at this, I'm not very knowledgeable about Chris Evans' work and fans, I just find it curious that, I was born on his fourteenth birthday, and of course the beauty that he has, so there may be things that I couldn't say much about, but I can say about my experience with Pedro Pascal fandom or male actors that I know better, so, sorry, if any answer is not pleasant or as expected by you, I also avoid male actors' fandoms a bit, I think they can be a bit weird and invasive in my opinion. Like posting photos of them with people, who might not like so much attention (like me, if I knew or was close to someone famous) or say things about them (personal life or even professional life) that I don't think we're in the place to say something, if we are just fans. Some people (who have already come to my Tumblr to give their opinion, thinking that I should agree or accept an opinion that I didn't ask for) may find me rude or sarcastic, I can be very nice to those who are nice to me, it's okay, if you want get something off your chest.

As I answered the first two paragraphs in one paragraph, I'm already going to read what you have to say, and try to help and give my opinion, if you want to hear it, of course, if not, it's okay about not listening to my opinion.

I'm not a fan of Chris, as you said, but as an Afro-descendant friend, who always listens to me about the problems of a Latina woman, who (despite everything, or Pedro's fans saying that they are friends with Latinxs people or understand what Latinxs correct in trying to say something about how they treat Pedro as a Latino man) which is rarely understood or heard, I thought I was right in listening to what she had to say and giving some opinions which I think was correct for me give, for being of Portuguese and African descent, too, even though I'm white, and also knowing how the Portuguese can be prejudiced or how Portugal's history with Brazil. But as I'm always open to hearing another version or view of things, I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Well, I agree with Chris's brother, if Chris's fandom is becoming toxic, I would avoid talking so much about him or my relationship with him publicly, if I were Chris's sister, seeing how toxic people and fandoms are, I can see a point about his brother, I forgot the names of his brothers, if you want to remind me of their names, I would thank you so much, my love. However, being an actor and someone else (I hate it when my parents or anyone compares me to my sisters), he should try to be more famous or talked about than his brother, doing his own work, there has so many famous brothers that they are famous because they each have a style of acting or films they make. Many people probably don't realize or don't understand the reason, I don't think Pedro is away from the internet, just because he's busy, but because he sees how toxic his fans are, and there are things he does to please his fans, It's because his team advises him to be good and not whether or not he wants to do such a thing.

Honey, you think like I think about Pedro's fandom, no one realizes how this cool "obsession" isn't right, no one ever saw what almost happened to Bjork in 1996, I was a year old, but I know about some things about the case because I'm not a fan of her and seeing things about true crime or what happened to John Lennon or Selena, nowadays, people forget what it's like to be a fan than a strange person who scares the famous person or the other people who are really fans of their work. I think that people lost a little for the limit, thinking that they can do everything just because they feel something "positive" for the person and that they can go outside the legal limits or something, they think they can do everything about the person as if they were a object than a person, just because they find them attractive or like them. I really like that they're talking more about stalking, because of that Netflix series, about the woman stalking a random man in England. If you realize that you may be going out of line, seek professional help.

This is tricky, I rarely like the boyfriends Taylor dates, like now, but I try to avoid saying too much about what I think about the guy or their relationship, knowing it seems more like marketing or something real. I don't think Chris seems to like talking about his personal life, I follow him on Instagram, I only see pictures of his adorable dog or about his work or something that he thinks is right to talk about publicly. However, knowing strange people, I imagine that people must even stalking Chris's distant cousin. I think this is completely wrong, if the person doesn't show that they talk about their personal life, like Chris or Pedro, unlike Taylor who sometimes seems to like showing or talking a little about her personal life, although I think it's so wrong. know where she is or event she is attending, when she hasn't said anything.

These days, I don't remember what I was watching, it was some video commenting on something, I think a Youtuber who comments on things, he had a Portuguese stalker with him being Brazilian, he commented on how fans will see each person that person follow, like, they have nothing to do other than stalking someone on the internet or in real life? This is sick. How did they first suspect it was Alba? It could be another totally different woman.

The translation didn't make me understand very well, were the two just friends? With the attitudes of strange people, did they start going out and dating? So, people are saying that everything about their relationship was a lie? Or were they dating, now that everything is public, although I never really know much about the two of them to be honest, do Chris's fans think it was all a lie? People can be crazy.

I guess, can they or anyone else report unnecessary comments on their Instagram? I honestly avoid reading Pedro's Instagram comments, they can be so scary for a person with a healthy mind.

These people are the most hypocritical, they always have excuses to not see that they are not wrong or that they do not understand the issue that you are trying to show that they are wrong.

The things I hate most in fandom are theories that are meaningless or pointless or nowhere that shows that it is correct to think like that.

Yeah, some people talk about knowing where the person lives or went or even who left the person's house, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Nowadays, I think no real place or fandom is safe, dear, sorry to be so honest, people are not so sensible anymore, because they feel so comfortable with each other, that no one thinks it's right to say that the their behavior is wrong, if you point it out, you are the most hated person in the world.

Yeah, I think it's wrong to defend yourself, when someone points out something wrong, why don't you think more about something than someone who doesn't think like you pointed out? Aren't we all open-minded. About Alba and her friends, always problematic, I think it's a subject that should be discussed a little, because she's not that famous or will ever be a little more famous, with Chris being so supportive of certain things, it would be bad for him to be seen with someone like Alba, the context I understood about her opinions, culture and upbringing that she probably had, or talking more about her attitudes could make her change a little, with respect and politeness when talking to her, always. I think being educational by talking to her is more correct than putting her down as the worst person in the world.

In this, I agree with you, people think they are always right for not doing or saying the things that a person does or says, but the person is on the same level or lower than the person they are criticizing by swearing or saying worse things.

Some people are not mature in this sense, dear, many people think they are mature because they are 20, 30, 40 or 50 years old, but they are not mature in making rumors and thinking it is correct to point out something that the person does.

It's ok, I wish more people said they feel positive or negative about things they agree or don't agree with no matter what it is

I'm really happy that you came to me to get some things off your chest, I love listening and helping as much as I can, my love, I hope I helped or could give you some advice/a good answer. I'm very happy that you trusted me. And sorry for the long and delayed response.

[fangsofwhite]

Seriously I do not know what eldritch gods I pissed off but they need to stop.

So yeah, surprising no one, as soon as things start to look like they are settling, more expletives hit the fan.

On the good news to start, my doggo is ok. Or as ok can be expected. Had a bit of a scare this past week with him suddenly developing stomach problems but it just seems that he ate something too fatty and is already recovering. He is also downing about near 6 pills every 12 hours to GET him ok, but he is ok. A LOT of my focus is on him right now because he is also down 3 lbs from the baseline 20lbs he needs to be and getting a picky dog who can not eat anything super rich or fatty to gain weight is literal sisyphious hell, but hey he is alive so lets endure.

Doggo will also be turning 16 in a couple weeks, officially marking him pushing 4 years past the given life expectancy he is was given due to his heart condition. So yeah will be taking at least some days off from the world to celebrate because he deserves it.

THEN MY PERSONAL HELL CONTINUES.

Apartment ceiling leak has gotten worse. Not back to ceiling literally falling down again worse, but its becoming a concern. Property managers finally sat owner down about getting it addressed and long story short, I'm getting a touch shafted. Basically owner can not afford the repairs so had decided to just sell the property as is. New owners will likely mean new rent and if they actually fix the roof or not is really not a given. At this point if I stay I am basically agreeing to the risk of the ceiling issue and thus taking on the liability for any mold, or collapse that may eventually happen. Like yes they would fix the ceiling if it falls again, but they can argue I took the risk so any injury or damage to my property that happens now is on me. Doggo also likes to sleep RIGHT where the leak happens too so the risk is high for him.

Property managers have agreed to let me out of the lease without penalty, which is a fair compromise honestly. This just means that once again I have to pack up and move. In truth, I am heavily considering a very large move. Honestly despite battling my health issues to at least try to take on occasional commissions, I have also been attempting to get at least a part time job to help with things and... I'll be honest, where I'm at now is just dying. I've seen more businesses close just this past month then I've seen hiring.

So yeah, I have to move anyways so heavily considering packing up and moving to another state where their MIGHT be better job opportunities. Maybe also better weather to help with my health.

I don't know, either way I have to pack up and move.

Life... just... UGH! I thought I was finally getting a break.

[ghostcaterwaul]

For the "Weird Questions for Writers": 1, 17, 18, 19 ^-^ (Again, I know I'm a bit late, but if you still wanna do these~)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

Arial, because it’s the default font and if I tried to pick another one, I’d probably just spend hours trying to decide on which one to use and never get any writing done. Lol.

(The rest of this post is long so I'm going to put it under a read more thingy.)

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Okay, so, I’m so not happy with the overall like, plot or whatever at this point. It sounded like a great idea while outlining but now I’m not so sure. I think Alice just doesn’t fit as well with the canon characters as I hoped she would, since she wasn’t made as a fan character or anything like that. I only started writing it because I was super excited to have such a new OC that was so developed and I really wanted to write about her but didn’t really have a story or anything and I’m currently hyperfixating on Metal Lords, so I figured putting her in a Metal Lords fic would make sense because I’d be motivated to write it but I’m not sure it’s working out and I’m lowkey annoyed. So, yeah, this is all subject to change and I have no idea what’s going to make it into the final story, especially since I’m having a hard time getting things from outline to draft, but anyways, here’s what I’ve got so far!

The outline of events I have written down starts before the movie, then there’s a few things during the movie and afterwards too (I haven’t written anything in like, 2-3 years, so I felt like using the movie as like, a blueprint for the outline would be the least stressful way to jump back into writing.) I’m thinking of either telling the whole thing in, like, disjointed scenes or in a sort of flashback format where the fic itself would start after Metal Lords, but have Alice recall different memories throughout the fic.

Alice meets Emily before the events of Metal Lords actually happens because they start at Glenwood Lake High on the same day after Alice and her mom inherit her late grandmother’s house. They get fairly close (as close as Alice will let anyone get to her, anyways). Alice falls hard for Emily. It’s very important, story-wise, that nothing romantic ever happens between them.

Emily totally starts unintentionally neglecting her friendship with Alice when she first starts dating Kevin, basically only hitting Alice up for “girl talk” AKA talking about her new relationship. Alice is wayyy too nice about this, because she’s way too nice about everything.

I’m not sure yet if Alice or Hunter is the first to notice that they’re both on the shit end of the stick as far as unrequited love is concerned, but this is like, the absolute basis of their friendship, at least in the beginning. The notes I’ve made seem to be leaning towards a queerplatonic type of thing with them, but we’ll see what happens when I actually finish a draft and start editing. Either way, I feel like Hunter needs someone to hang out with other than Kevin and Emily or he will absolutely lose his fucking mind.

Alice is kind of in love with the idea of being in love, but won’t let anyone get close enough to develop romantic feelings for her. This is part of her problem. Like, she doesn’t let anyone see past the tip of the iceberg, basically. Maybe Alice/Emily could have been a reality if Alice wasn’t so closed off.

Alice's mother always told her that her father left before she was born, but the truth is her mother is the one who left and her father has no clue she exists. Alice has no desire to try and connect with her father, so this will probably never come up and she will never find this out.

Alice’s room has so much stuff in it. I’m talking cluttered shelves full of stuff, stuff hanging from her ceiling and in her windows, stuff on her walls. Like, I have it all written down and I’m currently searching for some sort of outline/template that I can use as like, a reference sheet for her room just so it’s easier for me to read than the block of text I currently have in my Google docs.

Also, the more I outline and make notes, the more I’m sure that Alice isn’t cis. Like she’s probably under the non-binary umbrella in a “gender doesn’t make sense to me and feels like an abstract concept” kind of way.

I literally have so many notes on this WIP, overall, I had a hard time figuring out what to include in this answer, ngl. Like, I haven’t put this much work into something in a really long time, which is why I’m kinda determined to actually write it despite the fact I’m super hypercritical of it all the time.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Okay, so anything I have written for my current primary WIP is a very rough draft, if that, and completely unedited. So I hope it’s okay if I use something from one of my other WIPs. This is from an original work I was working on called A Chaotic Love (working title).

They sit a few feet away from each other, tormenting themselves, auto cannibalizing from the inside out, drowning in the blood of their feelings and choking on the emotional word vomit that threatens to spill from their mouths if they dare to part their lips to even breathe.

But it’s okay.

Everything’s okay.

Everything’s o-fucking-kay.

She feels so full that she doesn’t know if she can hold back any longer.

Everything’s okay.

He fills the void with cheap liquor, she uses it to drown out the constant noise in her head.

It’s okay.

They’re okay.

It’s all o-fucking-kay.

He passes out on the couch, still sitting up, arms crossed over the albatross tattooed on his bare chest. She stands up, wobbling at first. She can’t tell if the dizziness is from drinking so much or if she stood up too fast. She makes her way to her room, or rather, their room. Though, she doesn’t consider it their room anymore, as he’s been passing out on the couch, drunk, every night and never sleeps in bed with her. She slips out of her sundress and sprawls out on her stomach on the bed like a snow angel. She misses him.

It’s not okay.

It never was.

It never will be.

She’s not sure how much longer she can continue to hold on.

She’s not sure how much longer she can continue to pretend that it’s all okay.

Because she knows it’s not.

And she thinks he knows it too.

So, this is still very much a draft of a snippet that I probably won’t fully edit unless I actually finish writing the whole novel. This is Mallory and Jeremy after the honeymoon phase of their relationship, when Mallory is starting to become disillusioned with what she thought was going to be her fairytale romance and starts to realize that maybe running away from home with a guy she barely knew wasn’t the best idea, even though she very much needed to escape her parents and her hometown. This is supposed to be the beginning of the end for Mallory and Jeremy. If I remember correctly, I used my tarot deck as a prompt to get this rolling. I can’t remember which card(s) I pulled for this, though. I pretty much freewrote this. The very first sentence came to me super easily and I’m pretty proud of it, ngl. Only thing I really changed from the initial freewrite was adding in some details like Jeremy’s albatross tattoo, Mallory wobbling upon standing up, her sundress, the snow angel comparison, etc. Basically just added more description to that paragraph in general.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

I vividly remember putting together storybooks when I was as young as 5. I’d draw or trace pictures onto printer paper, and then dictate the words to my mom so she could write it in and then she'd help me staple the pages together. I just really liked making up stories. I got really into Buffy The Vampire Slayer when I was like, 9, and that’s when I started writing fanfic. Jumped from fandom to fandom for a while. Got into online written roleplay around the age of 11 or 12 and that’s where I’ve always done most of my writing. I didn’t really start thinking of writing as like, a career path until I was 13, when my 8th-grade English teacher overheard me complaining about the book she had assigned us, I don’t even remember the name of it, I just remember that I didn’t care about the main character at all, so enjoying the book was pretty much impossible. My English teacher got all pissy about my opinion and said something along the lines of “If you hate it so much, write something better.” And my snarky ass muttered, “screw you, maybe I will” and she fucking heard me, so then I was like, “Dammit, now I have to write a novel purely out of spite" because this teacher… Is the only English teacher I ever had that I could not fucking stand, I usually loved whoever I had for English, and she definitely had some sort of issue with me too, for some reason. So yeah, that’s when I started to take writing more seriously. I bought every fucking book and workbook on creative writing that I could get my hands on to perfect my craft and started writing more original fiction. I used to write every day. I was super dedicated too. Like, my parents would wake up at 5 AM, so I got my ass up at 4 AM every morning, so I could have an hour to myself to write with no interruptions while I had my coffee. Went to college for creative writing but never completed the degree. I’ve never finished anything multi-chaptered. I wish I could blame that on undiagnosed/untreated ADHD but I’ve been diagnosed and on meds for about 7 years now and I still can’t finish anything. Lol. I’m just now coming out of a really bad overall creative block where I just couldn’t seem to engage in any of my creative hobbies. I went from always having 1-3 projects (usually I’d be working on a story, something music related, and some sort of long-term arts & crafts project so I could alternate between the three) to not working on anything. I’m trying to focus more on fanfic right now over my original WIPs since fanfic is where I started, and I’m hoping it’ll get me out of this awful creative slump that I’ve been in for the past few years.

[ontheshroom]

Paper and Pleasure

Jack Harlow x fem!reader

Smut! ⚠️

A/n: repost

Synopsis: Jack takes a liking to his newest team member.

******************************

You had joined Jack’s team a bit after Loose and a little bit before Confetti. You and Jack had a one-of-a-kind type of relationship, it wasn’t romantic even though there were some crossed lines sometimes. It wasn’t abnormal for you and Jack to chill together, actually, it was a part of y’alls friendship. Something you both bonded over, like Jack you really enjoyed movies as well. The last time you hung out with Jack you both watched the Harry Potter movies at your apartment. You two lay in your covers with you under Jack’s arm with a big bowl of popcorn on his lap. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like y’all were in a relationship, to you, you wished you were.

You’ve had feelings for Jack for a long time, he started to become flirtatious with you after about three months of you being his assistant. It started with him wanting to keep things professional, but the more he got to know you the more he wanted you. Jack would start to call you for things he really didn’t need your help on just so you could be around. One time he and Urban were trying to take pictures at his house and something wasn’t going right with the wifi to upload them to Urban’s computer so he called you. You had no idea how to fix the problem and Jack knew that, but he also knew that you would stick around and wait till his wifi company was able to come and check out the issue and you did.

That was the first night you two watched a movie together, it was just some random movie that was playing on FX but it was memorable because you two were together. Urban snagged a picture of it and showed Jack after you had left to go home, with about fifteen minutes left of the movie you had accidentally fallen asleep on Jack’s shoulder. The picture was so adorable and there was no denying that you two looked like a couple in it. Jack stupidly posted it on his story causing an uproar with his fans thinking the two of you were dating. You had to admit you were fond of the boy though, when you all went to go shoot the video for Thru The Night you were so incredibly jealous of his love interest even though she was the sweetest thing. If Jack wanted to be honest too, he wished you offered to play the part.

After that night you and Jack always made plans to watch something together, even if you both were traveling for his tour, he’d have you bring out your laptop and play it on there. Jack would prefer when this situation occurred and the hotel or Airbnb didn’t have a smart tv so then he could have an excuse to cuddle up to you real close.

Urban and Jack talked about the relationship between you two often.

“Dude, you should just go for it. She clearly knows you’re feeling her. You gave up alcohol and women, there’s no way she’s not suspicious of your new fondness for celibacy.” Urban laughs out to Jack.

“I don’t think she’s realized. Honestly, I don’t think she’s feelin me Urb. I’ll dead be cuddling her while we’re watching a movie or somethin’ and here she goes talking about how cute she thinks this actor is.” Jack says shaking his head. He thought about those moments way more often than he’s willing to admit.

“Dude, Y/n hasn’t talked to a boy since she started working for you. I haven’t even seen her talk to a dude since she’s worked with you that she didn’t have to or that didn’t approach her first. I’m telling you, she definitely likes you.” Urban says blowing out a cloud of smoke.

That night Jack stared at his ceiling thinking about you, while he was in bed. This wasn’t abnormal but he wasn’t on brick this time which was the abnormal part. He was thinking about if you could really like him. Which caused him to think of your smile, and then your hugs, and then your body, and finally, he was on brick. Jack groaned at the universe knowing exactly what it was he was about to do.

The next morning, Jack was determined to ask you out on a date. He needed you to be mine already, or at least take the steps to make it happen. Just as he was getting ready to call you he heard a loud knock on his door in a rhythm he knew like the back of his hand. He walked over to the door opening it to see you with a big smile, he knew once he laid eyes on you his smile was probably ten times bigger. He shifted his body letting you in. Compared to the warm Atlanta heat his apartment was cool and kissed your skin. Sending goosebumps to spread throughout your arms, but that was the least of your worries.

“Jackman, guess what!” You exclaimed with a big smile.

“What?” Jack giggled, happy to see you so excited.

“You’re going on tour for That’s What They All Say!” You exclaimed to him. Jack couldn’t contain his excitement himself, he quickly scooped you up in his arms holding you.

Due to Covid, Jack wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to go on tour so being able to, felt like everything to him, and to do it all with you felt the best.

About five months into the tour, Jack still had not asked you out. He thought about it often but never acted on it.

You two were in the Airbnb for his Minnesota stop and decided to watch the Friday movies. They were your favorite and you were so excited to watch them with Jack. Everyone else wanted to go out to check out a new hot club that opened up but you and Jack weren’t really all that interested. Out of the 9 people in the house total, you and Jack were the only ones who stayed back. Right as everyone was walking out the door Urban looked at y’all.

“Do not fuck on my bed.” He said sternly pointing his finger at Jack causing you to blush.

“Mine either!” Neelam yelled walking through the door and shutting it behind her.

You and Jack looked at each other nervously and then chuckled. That’s how awkwardness was with y’all and you loved it, you needed someone you could just laugh it off with.

After about the second movie you and Jack were nearly on top of one another. Jack looked down at you, the motion causing you to look up at him, and pressed his lips to yours. Somehow, the kiss got very heated with you sitting on top of his lap. Jack’s tongue battled with yours, not for dominance he had that and knew it. But more for who wanted who the most. You ground down on Jack earning a groan from him causing you to smile into the kiss as if you had won. As if Jack picked up on your cockiness he squeezed your ass while grinding you down on him causing a slight whimper to come from you. Jack smiled and pulled away.

“I won.” He smiled cockily before pulling off your shirt.

Jack loved every part of your body but he had never gotten to see it like this before. He was encapsulated by your looks. You removed yourself from his lap so you could remove the rest of your clothing while Jack did the same. Jack held you by your hand and guided you to sit back on his lap. The second you sink down, you both let needy whines escape. You bounce up and down on Jack, him guiding you with his hands on your ass. Jack admires how your boobs look so close to his face. He takes one and sucks on it lightly causing you to let on an almost pornographic moan. You reach in between the two of you and rub your clit slowly bringing you closer to your orgasm. Jack leans back and watches you feeling his own climax approach. After, a couple more bounces you and Jack both cum. Loud cries from both of you fill the room. You get off of his lap and sit on the couch next to him. He grabs the nearest blanket and wraps the two of you in it.

“When I say I’ve wanted to do that forever, I don’t mean have sex with you. I mean, I’ve wanted to let you know that I’ve wanted you since I met you. Not for your body, or because you’re always around. But, because you brought out a side of me that I never knew before I met you. I really really like you, y/n.” Jack confesses.

“I really really like you too, Jack.” You giggle out.

The boy shakes his head with a smile and kisses you.

“Be my girl?” He asks against your lips. You nod and smile against his.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girl.” You tell him reconnecting your lips together.

[heliads]

Can you write a second part of That Moment where newlyweds Pietro and Y/N fight crime alongside Sam and Bucky during the events of the show The Falcon and Winter Soldier? I can totally imagine Pietro snarking with Bucky and not being a fan of John Walker.

i can totally imagine pietro snarking with bucky and not being a fan of john walker as well

part one / masterlist / part three

It is a quiet, peaceful morning, and you have never been happier. You’ve been a lawfully wedded Maximoff for about a month now, and every day feels better than the one before it. You never really thought that you would get a chance to rest, to be a normal person instead of someone constantly caught up in the dangers of the Avengers life.

Yet here you are, smiling and happy, as if nothing had ever gone wrong. You didn’t think you’d get the chance to have a life this good, especially not when you were captured in a small holding cell on the Raft, or when the love of your life, Pietro Maximoff, was snapped away before your eyes.

However, despite all evidence pointing otherwise, you managed to have your happy ending after all. You haven’t seen most of the Avengers since the wedding, other than a few brief phone calls here and there to make sure nothing major has happened, but it’s all good. For once, there is no trouble, no strife. Just you and your husband (what a thing to say!) in a house where no one can find you unless you want them. It couldn’t be better.

You’re lying on a sofa in your living room now, watching the sunlight trace patterns on the ceiling that shift and change with the growing hour. Pietro is wandering around somewhere behind you, you can hear the pattern of his feet on the hardwood floors and soft rugs, and it all feels so much like home that you almost can’t believe you haven’t lived here your entire life.

It’s quiet and peaceful, or at least it is until you get a text on your phone from a number you haven’t heard from in a while, Bucky Barnes. It says one thing, and one thing alone. Turn on the news.

Pietro appears in the space next to you, hair falling back into place from his sudden run. Apparently he got the mysterious message as well, and is reaching for the TV remote to see what’s going on.

It doesn’t take long to figure out what’s captured Bucky’s attention. There’s a crowd of news reporters going live in DC, talking to a man emblazoned in the classic stars and stripes. What’s more, he’s carrying a shield you’ve only seen on the arm of one man before, and that was Steve Rogers. Steve is gone now, though, whether he’s dead or retired you have no idea.

This man, though, isn’t Steve. It’s not even close. He may carry the shield, and he may have the same chiseled jaw, blue eyes, and blond hair as the supersoldier who came before him, but he is in no way Captain America. So why is he pretending to be your friend?

Through bits and pieces of the interview, you manage to get a grasp of the story. The government got bored without having the Avengers to prop up their PR, so they decided to recast a favorite hero in the hopes of getting public support back on their side. This man, John Walker, is the new Captain America. The only problem is that he lacks exactly what made Steve so good- a conscience. If Steve had seen this guy, he would have laughed him out of the country, something you tell to Pietro with more than a little chagrin.

Pietro looks just as irritated as you, though. “He can’t just do that. I thought the shield was Sam’s.”

You grimace. “It should have been Sam’s. Sam put it in the museum to stop this sort of thing. Looks like the government decided that wouldn’t be a thing anymore. Why have a symbol if you can’t benefit from it, you know?”

Pietro’s gaze is stony, and you realize that he’s thinking back to a previous round of supersoldiers. Pietro is eerily familiar with governments trying to claim heroes as their own; it’s how he got his powers, after all, the same with Wanda. If there’s one thing Pietro Maximoff hates more than anything, it’s poorly intentioned men thinking they can fool everybody with a little bit of camera glamour and charm.

Pietro crosses the room in half a second so he’s standing behind you, fingers tapping irritably on the back of the couch. You can practically sense his anger coming off of him in waves, and you smile in spite of yourself.

“We’re retired.” You tell him.

Pietro looks down at you, a soft smile on his face. “I didn’t say anything.”

You chuckle. “You didn’t have to. I know exactly what’s going on in your head.”

Pietro leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And what’s that, love?”

You give him a knowing look. “You want to run to DC now, to grab that shield right out of John Walker’s hands and maybe beat him up a little while you’re at it. And, need I remind you again, we’re retired.”

Pietro nods slowly. “Of course. I would never think anything like that. Out of curiosity, if we needed to come out of retirement for a really good cause, it would be worth it, right?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Does that really good cause have to do with John Walker?”

Pietro spreads his hands. “See, if you’re already thinking about it, it means that you think the same thing.”

You laugh, although the sound is interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You reach for it, but Pietro makes it over before you (what a surprise) and answers it with a broad grin. “Hey, Barnes. Yeah, we saw the news.”

Bucky’s voice comes crackling over the phone, and you rub a tired hand over your face, trying to hide a grin. “So are you going to go get it or what? Surely we’re doing something.”

Pietro gives you a very obvious look. “Well, I’m trying, but-”

You cut him off, shouting over to the phone. “But we’re retired, Bucky, and we can’t just steal the shield away from a government-appointed hero.”

Pietro sighs dramatically. “Give me time. I might be able to work this out.”

Bucky’s voice is weary. “Well, if I give you the signal, I’m expecting you to get me out of there fast.”

Pietro grins. “Sounds good to me. See you around, I hope.”

He hangs up the phone, and appears by your side in a second, taking a seat next to you on the couch and pulling you into his lap. “Are you sure we can’t take down government-appointed heroes? It’s not like it would be the first time we’ve broken some rules.”

You laugh. “As fun as it would be, we need to respect their choice.”

It’s a good sentiment, but your phone goes off again a moment later, this time displaying a text message from Sam Wilson: Not sure what Bucky told you, but we’re not doing anything. Anyways, are you anywhere near Louisiana?

You stare at the words for a while, then sigh. Pietro, having spent the past couple years attuned to every change in your expression, breaks out into a broad grin. “I know what that means. We’re doing this, aren’t we?”

You can’t hold back a grin any longer. “Yeah, yeah. I think we both knew retirement wasn’t really going to last.”

As much as you try to deny it, you’re happy to be leaving again. Packing your Flare suit and Pietro’s Quicksilver uniform is good, it makes you feel like you might be useful again. Resting and relaxing is great, sure, but there is no rush like the thrill of knowing your life is on the line.

And, as it turns out, your lives are indeed in danger. Sam was texting you to tell you about the Flag Smashers, some errant group of fighters who think Thanos’ snap was the best thing that could have happened. You can’t argue with them that the world wasn’t prepared to deal with everything, and there was a great deal of global unity during those five years, but you don’t regret a thing in bringing people back. What’s more, you have Pietro again, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world, literally.

However, the greatest threat of all comes not from the Flag Smashers, or even the Power Broker, but John Walker himself. What a character. You were able to get the gist of his personality while watching news interviews, but the guy is impossible. Steve took his whole patriotism-Captain America-golden boy thing with more than a few grains of salt, but John Walker seems to buy into it wholeheartedly. He warns off Sam, who might be one of the most genuine people you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and annoys Bucky within moments, which admittedly isn’t the hardest thing to do.

What irritates you is the bone he picks with you and Pietro. Right now, you’re walking through the streets of Latvia, trying to track down Karli Morgenthau so Sam can have an audience with her and try to talk her out of any more violence. It’s a difficult task, but if anyone can do it, it’s Sam. The guy could convince a live nuclear bomb to never hurt a fly.

However, you’re not sure that even Sam Wilson could convince Pietro and Bucky to stop hating Walker with all they’ve got. Every couple of minutes, Walker chimes in with some dumb comment about how it would be great if they could all work together or he really doesn’t trust Karli, which just sets Pietro and Bucky off again. You’ve never seen the two men bonded over something as important as irritating Walker to the best of their collective abilities, and it’s pretty funny to see.

In an attempt to get Pietro off of his back, Walker turns to you, something almost like desperation glinting in his eyes. “So, Y/N, do you think your experience as Flare has helped you in this situation? Have you encountered similar conflicts in the past?”

Pietro scoffs, already able to tell from your raised eyebrow that you don’t really want to deal with his parlour conversation. “Interesting questions, Walker. What is this, a job interview?”

Bucky’s face remains largely expressionless, although his words are tinged with the aftereffects of a barely concealed laugh. “He wants to know if she’s also interested in stealing Steve’s stuff and trying to be a patriotic hero.”

Pietro snorts. “Y/N, thoughts on the stars and stripes? Do you feel the need to rob a hundred year old man to get ahead?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh, especially when Walker lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just trying to make conversation. I don’t see either of you doing that other than just making fun of me. Real mature.” He says.

Pietro nods gravely. “Well, you know me. I was robbed of a childhood when I was given inhuman powers, kind of like that supersoldier serum that makes you madly jealous of us, so now I just have to make fun of you. I wish I could do something different, but I just can’t. It’s the trauma, I suppose.”

You elbow him in the ribs as you walk. “We are trying to be civil, yes?”

Pietro’s smile is breathtaking, even when he’s tearing John Walker to shreds. “Of course.”

Bucky nods solemnly. “This is civility, Y/N. Back when I was fighting with the actual Captain America, whenever you got into a disagreement with a guy, you would go out back behind the garrisons and have a duel. Whoever got shot first lost.”

Walker scoffs. “That’s not a thing. It might have happened in the 1700s, maybe, but not the 1940s.”

Bucky turns his full Winter Soldier glare on the guy. “Do you know that for certain? I have it on good information that Steve Rogers himself won a total of fourteen duels in a row. It was fantastic to see.”

Walker’s step slows slightly. Obviously, this is absurd, but Bucky says it with just enough of a serious expression that Walker can’t help but doubt himself. “Really?”

Pietro chuckles. “Of course not. Jeez, you Americans really do believe everything you hear. Unfathomable.”

This time, you can’t hold back a laugh, and Pietro looks particularly pleased with himself because of it. Walker shoots you a glare for not backing him up or at least stopping Pietro, but you couldn’t care less. This is too funny for etiquette.

Sam meets up with you at the Latvian Resettlement Camp. He’s heard that Karli will be here to attend a memorial for Donya Madani, and has been scouting out the place. If he can sense the tension still brewing between Pietro, Bucky, and Walker, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he starts to lead the group through the building to where you’ll wait for him to talk to Karli.

Pietro pulls you aside once you’re sure where you’re going. He grins at you in the half light of the empty room, the light from a partially broken window giving a halo to his already bright hair.

You give him a look, although you can’t stay irritated with him forever. Already, all traces of annoyance are slipping away from you like water from cupped fingers. “You’re not supposed to be antagonizing John Walker, you know.”

Pietro just laughs. “I do it for entertainment, my love. Anything to make you smile.”

He kisses the back of your hand dramatically, which makes your heart skip a beat despite the countless times he’s done this before.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, you know. I didn’t come out of retirement just to make an enemy of the government’s latest poster boy.”

Pietro raises an eyebrow. “Ah, but I thought I was always your favorite kind of trouble. Besides, it’s not like you’re not thinking the same things. This guy is impossible.”

You smirk. “You’re not wrong there. Maybe he deserves it.”

Pietro’s grin widens. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say. Also, I like seeing you laugh whenever we make fun of him. I think this was the best non-retirement we’ve had in a while.”

He pulls you close to him while you can, treasuring this moment with no one watching. You hug him back with equal emotion. “I love you, Pietro.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the curve of his lips against your skin when he smiles. “I love you too, Y/N. Always.”

This talk with Karli Morgenthau could go south in all the worst ways. There could be a firefight with the Flag Smashers, there could be countless avenues of trouble that no one counted on until it was too late. Still, at this moment it all goes away. It’s just you and Pietro until forever. Nothing more needs to be said.

marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42,  @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv-blog, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7

[shingia]

✗ TEACHING THEIR KID HOW TO STAND UP FOR THEMSELVES ✗

long story short : i saw a cute tiktok and it gave me an idea for this post that i impulsively wrote at 3am

-> timeskip!akaashi, atsumu, iwaizumi, kita x gn!reader

-> warnings : slight mentions of bullying

-> reblogs are appreciated!

— AKAASHI

knowing that you were feeling pretty tired lately, akaashi had decided to leave work early to pick up your daughter from school. the familiar creak of your front door made you look up from your book, but the voices you heard made you close it. « ok once again, loud and clear », akaashi sounded firm, but encouraging. his words were followed by the high-pitched voice of your daughter, who was trying her best to mimic her dad’s tone as she uttered an assertive « no! ». the both of them entered the living room shortly after, your daughter’s purple and orange’s schoolbag swung over his shoulder, akaashi’s lips were curled in a soft smile. « perfect, now you know what to say to that boy next time he bothers you, alright ? ». she quickly nodded as he sat her down on the couch next to you. « daddy taught me how to say ‘no’ ! » she exclaimed with an unconcealed pride. « oh did he ? » you raised an impressed eyebrow at your husband who was putting the colorful bag on the floor. « well.. she’s gotta learn earlier than i did » he chuckled before finally greeting you with a kiss that made your daughter’s lips twist in a disgusted pout.

— ATSUMU

« ya understand what daddy’s tryin to say? ya gotta show that yer not scared of ‘em ! ». the more he talked, the more atsumu felt the need to maintain eye contact with your son in the backseat, who was looking at him with admirative eyes, as always. « eyes on the road tsumu » you told him, turning his head in the right direction with a slight push of the hand. he didn’t really pay attention to you - too focused on his speech, and obviously, turned back around after less than a minute. « keep lookin’ at ‘em in the eyes no matter what, ok? wait, i’ll show ya when we get home ». in his car seat, your son was frantically nodding at each of your husband’s words. and although you were happy to hear that atsumu wasn’t teaching him actual fighting techniques, you would have been even happier if he kept his focus on the road. « i think you already showed him enough » you gave him a quick slap on the back of his head. « ow! violence is never the answer, ya know ? » he dramatically protested, rubbing the impact point with his hand. and your son repeated straight away « never the answer ! ». a victorious grin immediately started spreading on atsumu’s lips.. as he turned around to give your son an enthusiastic high-five.

— IWAIZUMI

both iwa and you had received a call from your son’s teacher explaining that he had been picked on by two other boys during recess. and you had planned on having a discussion with your him as soon as you’d get back home. but iwa’s plans were different, in many ways. sat on the floor of your son’s bedroom, surrounded by toys and crayons, he was deep into his lesson about which strategical body parts to kick during a fight when you interrupted them. « right here, on the seam of their pants, that’s where the muscle- oh hi honey. how was your day ? ». the frown on your face was enough to make the both of them understand that you weren’t a big fan of seeing your five-year-old son be taught about fighting techniques. much less by his own father. « iwaizumi hajime you come here this instant » you ordered, pointing a menacing finger at him. with a sigh, iwa put both his hands on your son’s shoulders and looked at him straight in the eyes. « last advice buddy : there will always, always be someone stronger than you » he told him very seriously before following you out of the bedroom with his tail between his legs.

— KITA

« what did you tell her ? » you asked kita who had just come back from your daughter’s bedroom where he had spent more than 30 minutes. « that some boys were stupid and that, sometimes, the best thing to do is to ignore the people who bother ya. do ya agree ? ». you rested a reassuring hand on his cheek. « i do shin. you did great », you assured him before kissing the top of his head as he got under the covers, one arm snaking around your shoulders. this evening filled with emotions made you both fall asleep in no time, snuggled up against each other. but what seemed like a good idea in the evening turned out to be rather terrible in the morning. « we have a problem » kita told you when he got back from your daughter’s bedroom at 7:30am, « she’s ignoring me. won’t listen, won’t talk ». sitting up straight, you rubbed your tired eyes before answering « well... you just woke her up at 7:30. that makes you a bother. so, according to you, the best thing she can do is ignore you... ». he let out a loud sigh, slumping down on the bed like despair was bringing him down. staring at the ceiling, he looked completely helpless. « ugh... i love her more than anything... but why does she have to be so clever ? ».

🎒taglist : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @kelsuuki @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @mimaki @maitenight

[urmindisastreamofcolors]

Even Then: Josh Kiszka x Reader

A/n: @milesoutraging​ let me know what you think :)

Warnings: pretty heavy topic, talks about a not so easy childhood and residual trauma response from that, so please read with caution

“I’m not arguing about this anymore! You fucking win, y/n,” Josh said as flung his hands in the air and with a laugh that held no humor. Then, he grabbed his keys and slammed the door behind him so hard that the dishes shook in the cabinets.

At first, you were shocked, but then your chest felt tight as you made your way to your bedroom, slamming your own door. You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, trying to understand how it had all happened. You were so focused on retracing the moments leading up, that you didn’t know you had tears streaming down your face or sobs ripping from your chest. All of things just had said raced through your brain at the speed of light, but the tone he had was what made a light shiver go down your spine.

Everything was absolutely fine until you two got home from dinner. You two walked in chatting about frivolous things from your day and Josh was immersed in a story about how Sam had tried to play Jake’s guitar behind his head and almost was murdered when it almost hit the ground. Smiling at the story, you stepped into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and sighed loudly at the dishes in the sink.

“Josh,” you called with hands on your hips waiting for your boyfriend to make an appearance. When he did, he simply leaned against the counter with slight confusion.

“I asked you do the dishes before we left,” you explained, voice clipped. Josh gave a wry smile and for some reason, you felt your body heat rise.

“Sorry, babe! I’ll do them later. It’s just a couple cups and a plate,” he said as he took a look in the sink. You gave him a look with your arms crossed over your chest. Some part of your brain was trying to figure out why you were so pissy over it, but you didn’t know.

“Josh, seriously,” you said as you rolled your eyes. His eyes narrowed slightly at your clipped tone and the smile melted off his face slowly before he returned your eye roll and left the kitchen. Your jaw dropped in shock and you followed, hot on his heels.

“What the hell was that,” you asked with a look that dared him to do it again, so he did and you felt your face flush.

“You always get so pissed off when I forget to do the dishes or if I miss one or two. It’s not that big of a deal and I’m a grown up. I don’t need you handing out chores, Mom. I have one that lives right down the road,” Josh said sarcastically, clearly irritated with you, but by this point you were seeing red. You snapped back, not caring what you said as long as it pissed him off.

“I don’t fucking get it! You’re always so fucking defensive and stubborn and you treat me like I’m a child. I’m a grown man, Y/n,” Josh yelled over you, hands waving dramatically as he talked.

“Start acting like one then.”

Heavy, tense silence between you two as he leveled you with a gaze and you started wondering if you had went too far, but those thoughts melted when he started going off in earnest. Suddenly, you were nose to nose with the man you always considered a lover, but he was quickly showing you otherwise. He would avoid confrontation at all costs, but Josh was never afraid of it like most people assumed.

“You’re stubborn about everything, rude to anyone who so much as breathes wrong and you always have to have the last fucking word! What is your fucking problem!? You don’t have to always be such a bitch over the smallest thing, Y/n,” Josh yelled and the word echoed in your skull. You stepped back from him as the word bitch pinged in your ears. He took a shaky breathe before stomping out of the living room and heading for the kitchen.

“Where are you going,” you asked in a nearly monotone voice. Your feelings were hurt and you didn’t know how to control them other than simply turning them off, but tears pricked your eyes.

“Wherever the fuck I want to.”

You tried to stop him, but he still slammed the door on his way out.

You couldn’t deny that he was right or that anything he had said didn’t need to be said. You let out a shaky breath as you forced yourself out of the bed you typically shared with Josh and to the bathroom to wash your face.

Then, following your true nature, started to clean. You didn’t allow yourself time to wallow in anymore self pity and when your chin would begin to wobble, you would simply will the tears away. It was almost midnight when you started scrubbing the tile in the kitchen, but you didn’t care as you swept and mopped with intent of everything sparkling.

Even with your body being in motion, you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking. When you and Josh had first started dating, your friends always found a way to mention how well you two complimented one another, how he was able to take you and your strong personality in stride. Varying circumstances and just life in general shaped you into the woman you were: independent, strong willed and confident. Josh apparently disagreed and chose the synonyms of stubborn and rude to describe your personality.

All qualities that you valued in yourself because you were finally the person that the younger version of you always needed. You were the oldest of five with parents who worked so hard putting food on the table that you basically were a parent. You remember helping your siblings with homework before doing your own much later in the night, always letting them shower or eat first, all the things that a kid shouldn’t have to do. To put it simply, you had eventually became a person who didn’t deal with bullshit.

Apparently, Josh viewed it differently and for the first time in years, you had begun to second guess who you were, but then shook those thoughts immediately from your head. You’ve been in this spot before with previous relationships, but you had never gotten upset after the argument and in reality, you were in the wrong. You shouldn’t have snapped at him. You shouldn’t have overreacted.

That phrase alone continued to bounce in your skull no matter what you did to distract yourself. You stopped your cleaning assault on the tiles when your phone pinged, showing you had a text message. Your stomach twisted at the thought of it being Josh, but sighed when you saw Jake’s name instead. Of course Josh had went to Jake.

Jake

You good?? just now

You took a couple minutes to think about how to respond before letting your thumbs fly over the keyboard.

You

kinda… 1:16 am

i feel like a bitch tbh just now

Your eyes burned again as you typed out the message and this time a tear escaped and you had no idea if Jake responded as you went back to cleaning right after turning your phone off.

You worked until you were bone tired and the apartment was so clean that a surgeon would’ve considered it to be sterile. You were just finishing up the laundry, hanging a few of Josh’s shirts up when you heard the front door open and shut quietly. Paying it no mind, you kept focused on your task as you swallowed past the lump in your throat. The bedroom door creaked open slowly and when you turned, you could see Josh’s slightly shocked face and tense settled between you. You kept a poker face in place as you tried to gauge his mood, not wanting another argument.

“I thought you would be asleep by now,” Josh said quietly. He sounded tired and his eyes were bloodshot.

“Why,” you responded simply as you continued with your task feigning disinterest. Silence settled again and you felt it pulling in your gut.

“Y/n, it’s six in the morning! Have you…not slept,” Josh asked with concern written on his face, but yours showed confusion.

“I cleaned. I didn’t want you to come to a dirty apartment…,” you trailed off with a shrug of your shoulders. This was something you had always done, especially after arguing with your parents. Josh’s eyes were a vibrant chocolate brown and it made your stomach twist with the look he was giving you.

“I think we need to talk,” Josh said simply leaning against the doorframe. His gaze held yours firmly and you tried to not cry.

Your breath caught sharply in your throat and your whole body tensed at his words, but you simply nodded and followed him to the living room. You sat on the couch feeling the exhaustion settle into your body and you were shocked to see the first rays of morning sun peaking into the windows as the new day started.

After a moment, Josh joined you and sat with one leg tucked under him, body turned to you.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” you said sincerely as you made direct eye contact with him.

“I know and I forgave you before I even left, but I think there’s some things we really need to discuss. I’m sorry that I lost my cool and I shouldn’t have said the things I said.”

You had never seen Josh so serious, but you didn’t disagree with his words. You quickly shifted on the couch so you were facing him directly and held your hands out, palm up. Without any hesitation, he placed his much larger hands in yours and opened his mouth to start speaking, but you beat him to the punch.

“This doesn’t excuse me being a bitch earlier,” you started and nearly stopped when you saw Josh cringe at the words, remembering his earlier insult, but you kept going. “I’m different than you, than you’re family. I know I get defensive and that I’m independent and stubborn to a fault. I didn’t realize it until tonight when you called me on my bullshit that it was even happening.”

Josh watched you carefully, not interrupting as you finally delved into your upbringing and how hard it all really was. You were finally admitting to not only him, but yourself, that you had went so long without a voice of your own that you were now making up for it in a way.

You told him about the nights when you were around thirteen and your youngest brother, Micah, wouldn’t stop crying while he had the flu, so you walked the halls of your house cradling him until his fever broke. He was only three then. You told him the story of the night your middle brother, Alec, opened for one of the school’s theatre productions and how your parents couldn’t make it, but you made sure you and your siblings were front row with flowers in hand. You laughed through the story of teaching the second oldest of you, River, how to drive and the near death experience you had.

The stories, the lessons and all the things that Teenage You wanted to scream and rage about came out of you and Josh listened. Nearly an hour had passed and he carefully wiped your tears away with a callused thumb before pulling you in for a kiss and moving you to sit in his lap where you curled against him.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through all those things by yourself. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. Hell, being an older sibling is hard enough, but you were more than that. You still are. Those boys love you and they’re who they are today because they had a strong sister who helped them. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Even when I’m being a bitch,” you sniffled into the crook of his neck and you smiled when you heard him literally giggle.

“Even then, sweetheart. Now, let’s get you to bed,” he responded gently as he moved to the edge of the couch, lifting you while standing before you could protest. When he walked into the bedroom, he tossed you on the bed causing you to squeal.

“Wow, that’s one hell of a way to tuck someone in,” you said sarcastically as Josh pulled his shirt over his head with a wicked grin.

“Who said anything about sleeping, mama?”

[growup-thatbeautiful]

Hi! Can you do a timothée fic based on the song can I call you tonight by dayglow? Been in love with that song for a while now and I love the way you write your stories!

thank you so much! i’d love to write it :)

just so everyone knows, this is the last songfic i’m writing! i loved doing it so much, but after a while it simply started stressing me out and i felt like it wasn’t helping my writing process or mental health. please understand that i am deeply sorry to leave a few of the asks unanswered. if you want you can send something in that’s not a song, maybe a moment you imagined from the song? i’m not sure why, but song fics just…stopped being fun for me. thank yo igor understanding, ilyyyyy <3333

taglist: @shawnieeboyy

can i call you tonight?

normally, you love being home alone, but today it just feels sad and alone. part of that is because you feel like you haven’t done anything worth doing at all today.

sure, you went to work. you did everything you needed to do, but it felt like busy work, things that you’re going to be thankful that you did, but don’t really give anything to show for.

you went home feeling tired and wanting to do nothing. however, the universe had different plans for you. your apartment building lost power, and you’ve been helping neighbors cool down from the hot new york air.

you’re finally back in your own apartment, laying on your bed in the bare minimum of layers. even the white tank top you’re wearing is plastered to your skin with sweat. it’s absolutely awful, and not made any better by staring up at the currently useless ceiling fan.

your mind wanders aimlessly through random topics. you’re too tired to try and actually do anything, and there’s only so much scrolling through your phone you can take. like always, you end up thinking of timothee.

you remember earlier when you texted him briefly, and for a second everything had been okay. you didn’t have time to talk with him more, unfortunately, the activities of the day taking over.

you roll onto your side and your phone lights up. you look at it mindlessly, seeing a notification that your brain tells you isn’t important and you don’t pay attention to. you do, however, get an idea. you open up messages and send one to timothee. it says can i call you?

his reply is almost immediate. you’ve barely put your phone down before it lights back up, his reply and then his ringtone filling the screen.

“hey,” you say, picking up the phone.

“is everything okay?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

“yeah, everything’s fine. my powers out and i have nothing to do.”

“oh, damn i’m sorry. i would offer for you to come over, but i don’t think you could make it all the way over here.”

“yeah, i’m not sure flying to california is the best way to solve this problem.”

“maybe it could solve other ones, though. i hear that you’re stressed.” you can hear the creak of wooden floors and the strain of him laying down in his bed.

“well…” you start, trying to find the right words. it’s hard to remember that there’s anything wrong when you’re talking to him, but the emotions and thoughts flood back when you look for them.

“you know, i’ve wanted this life as long as i can remember. now that i have it, it just feels so much louder and lonelier than i expected. i can hardly hear myself think even when i’m alone.” that is, when you’re alone or with anyone but him, but you don’t say that. it’s not something you can casually say. hey, we’ve been close for a while, but you’re the only person who makes me remember myself and who i really am. let’s grab pizza when i come in town.

“what does?”

“this life. being in the center stage. i don’t know why i thought it would be like i thought it would, though. nothing ever is,” you say, realizing how true it is. here you are, talking to the most perfect person you’ve ever met, and it’s nothing like you expected. it’s easy and you want to talk to him all the time. that’s saying a lot, considering that you hate talking on the phone.

“i know what you mean.” his voice is low in your ear, soothing and settling you. “it’s not meant for everyone, but i think it’s meant for you. you’re too astronomical to live a normal life.”

“that’s a big word.”

“this is a big talk.”

“is it?” you ask, nerves alight. you grab a pen from the dresser and twirl it between your fingers. anything to fidget with right now.

“that’s up to you,” he says.

“i hate talking on the phone,” you blurt out. “i hate it so much, but i do it with you because i can’t stand that you aren’t here. i want you here to help me figure out whatever it is i’m going through and tell me what’s real and he’ll me remember why it is i chose this life. i want you here because you make me myself and you make me smile.”

“i think i love you more than i hate taking on the phone,” you admit as a whisper.

“don’t go,” you say softly. you’re not even sure he can hear you.

“i won’t.” beautiful silence, broken by the sound of him breathing. “i’ll stay as long as you’ll let me. and then i’ll call you tomorrow and the next day and the one after that. you aren’t getting rid of me, rose.”