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filmbyjy · 2 days ago

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ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

THIRTY-ONE – family drama

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WC: 3.1K words

a/n: this is a word vomit😍 hence why I took longer to write it. had multiple mental breakdowns whilst doing this and my college projects🥰 anyways I said it would be 2K worth of words but it’s more💀

receiving those messages from aria’s mom made you realise that humanity was definitely screwed ever since humans decided that they wanted to be the ‘king of the jungle’. how was 50 year old woman threatening a 22 year old man? you knew you had to tell jake. this was for your safety and the others safety too but, you couldn’t lie, the curiosity of finding out as to why aria was acting up and also why she didn’t have a soulmate was itching all over you.

of course, her behaviour could’ve easily stemmed from her childhood. this is how usually murderers and serial killers even start their dark path. trauma. you sighed and turned to look around your college dorm. small but cozy, perfect to fit 3-4 girls. so when aria got admitted and possibly also kicked from the school, you’d assume you were staying with just yvette and mae.

the door opens and shuts, there were shuffling noises at the front door. you didn’t bother to look, it was probably the girls or jake. marsh decides to inspect the sound at the front door. you heard her little mewls and a deep voice that followed after. once you had looked up, you noticed it was jake. he held up marsh on his shoulder, carrying her.

“hey, what’s up? why were you staring at the white cement wall?” jake says. you didn’t say anything, you were practically looking at him from head to toe. his jet black hair that was recently grown out so that it was longer. the denim jacket that he always wore and was so famously known for around the campus. his lips, full and plump as it can ever be. “okay, now you’re staring at me. there is definitely something wrong.”

“aria’s mom texted me.” you had admitted. jake frowns. “and before you say anything, she just texted me to ask you to go to some location. i’m not allowed to go.”

“well, that’s good she didn’t ask you to follow. i wouldn’t have allowed you to come with anyways. i don’t want to get you hurt.”

you could see the sadness in jake’s eyes, it was heartbreaking. you knew he was just confused more than ever. he didn’t know why everything was so complicated with aria when in fact it should be over. why was her mother involved with this somehow?

“how about i get sunghoon to hide somewhere so that you wont be alone?” you had asked. jake shook his head. he lets marsh down from his arms and she scurries off to the other rooms.

“i don’t want to harm any of you. besides, sunghoon has already been through it.” jake explains. you had huffed.

“and? stop pretending to be strong and nonchalant. 2 guys is better than one.” you could hear jake sighing.

“i’ve hurt you guys and especially you for so long. i don’t want to be a burden and ask you guys to-”

you were quick to cut jake off quickly, “a burden? jake, just cause you blew us off for years and became a jerk because of aria doesn’t mean you were a burden. we still cared about you. we didn’t think you were a nuisance. the only reason why we weren’t as close as back then was because of aria.”

“i know.”

“then if you knew, you’d let us help you.”

“you guys have helped me multiple times and i…i’ve just ruined our friendship for 6 whole years.” it was clear jake was about to breakdown. his eyes were starting to get glossy, the waver in his voice. the way he chokes on his own words. you did what you could only think of and went over to give him a hug.

jake accepts it. his arms snuggling right above your waist. his head parked right at the crook of your neck, you start to feel small droplets of tears fall onto your skin. jake sobs in your arms. in all your years of knowing him (since you were kids), jake was never the type to cry. this was the first time you were seeing him cry and you could feel the intensity of those feelings. was it the soulmate bond? you couldn’t bare to let him go, you had to let him cry on your shoulder.

when mae and yvette walked through the front door after 10 minutes of jake sobbing, you had gestured for them to pretend they didn’t see anything. they quickly got the note and pretended that they didn’t see anything. they both went to their respective rooms. you had rubbed jake’s back and he only seemed to tighten the hug like you were going to disappear from his grip.

“hey, i won’t leave you. i’m here.” you whispered in his ears softly, comforting him as best as possible.

once he had calmed down, he couldn’t look back up at you. he was embarrassed to have cried. you placed a finger under his chin. his eyes were slightly swollen, wet tears down his cheek. yet, he still looked effortlessly good looking. the universe really has their faves. “don’t be afraid to cry in front of me and be vulnerable. i’ve cried in front of you a bunch so you don’t have to feel embarrassed to do the same.”

he nods, looking in your eyes. there was something in the air. the tension was different. you feel jake moving closer slightly. his head tilting a little as his focus shifts from your eyes to your lips. you held in a breath watching him do so. however, the kiss never happens because mae yelled out loud when jake was just about to land his lips right on yours.

her hands were covering her eyes. “fuck! i’m so sorry!!” she apologises quickly before turning and running towards yvette’s room.

both you and jake turned to look at each other and laughed. that was one way to break the tension. moving onto later at night, you, yvette, mae and jake planned a big plan for what was going to go down tomorrow. it was a perfect plan that would be executed well.

jake’s guide to not getting murdered/kidnapped

1. make sure sunghoon is around and sneaking whilst hearing everything so that he could report to us. back up: jay

2. if aria’s mom ties jake up, keep something sharp in pocket that doesn’t look suspicious. you went to join boy’s scout at like 10, you should remember how to untie a rope dumbass

3. have the upper hand, never let your guard down

4. that’s about it. don’t get killed

as the sun rises, so do you. you had barely gotten any sleep. after creating the plan, you were up all night coming up clothing/dress ideas for your course. it was hard. you could barely think. especially since you kept thinking about that almost kiss. god, that really kept you up at night.

jake had woken up and his groans as he wakes up. the sun glaring right into his eyes. he sits right up and tugs on the curtain. the darkness consumes his room and he lays right back in bed. however, just as jake was on the brink of falling asleep again, the smell of eggs slips under his door. he shots up and practically lets the door fly open. he goes to the kitchen to inspect the smell and he was definitely greeted with the sexiest thing in the morning. you were in a messy bun, oversized shirt and pyjama shorts. this should be the most domestic thing ever but he felt his heart racing.

he goes closer. you were busy with the eggs that you didn’t notice jake. there were arms wrapping around your waist and then a deep sleepy voice whispers in your ears. “morning.” it sends shivers down your spine.

“m-morning. why are you up so early?”

“could smell the eggs from my room so i got up and went here.”

“it’s just eggs.” you explained.

“and pancakes. something you always made back then when i stayed over at your home for a sleepover.” jake says. it was true, he used to always sleepover as his parents were quite busy with their business. your parents always held out with open arms for jake whenever he was home alone. hence, most of the time he stayed over.

“we were 12 when i made for eggs and pancakes. it didn’t even taste that great. i think i burnt the pancakes a little.”

“well, i thought you did great at 12 years old.” you deadpanned at jake’s words.

“you always told me it was bad.”

“when have i?”

“are you trying to gaslight me?” jake leans closer. your breath hitches.

“no. i’m not trying to gaslight you. i just want to say my true feelings at 12 years old. you were great at making eggs and pancakes back then even if they were crispy.” he adds. you picked up the spatula and showed it to him, ready to hit him with it. he laughs and apologises.

there was a buzz on jake’s phone while you were eating breakfast and chatting but jake didn’t seem to care. he didn’t even acknowledge it so once he went to wash the dishes, you had peaked into his phone.

messages from an unknown number. definitely aria’s mom.

“you don’t have to care about that. i’ll be safe. don’t worry.” jake says.

picture this, you were looking right up at jake as he was standing right behind you. at this rate, you might as well recreate that one famous spiderman kiss. which is exactly why jake leaned in and placed his lips right on yours. you could feel your lungs start to feel lighter. like you were healing from your hanahaki. jake felt like this was right, kissing you felt right. it had fit into the puzzle. your hands reached up to cup jake’s face but he pulls back slightly. there was a slight pout on your lips that you had unconsciously did.

“don’t pout. i want to kiss you more but your neck is going to hurt if i continue kissing you like that.”

“you don’t find this romantic?”

“it is romantic but i want to properly kiss you.” jake says. you could feel your face heat up.

jake’s phone starts ringing. “you should pick it up.” you say. jake nods. he lightly places a peck on your forehead before picking it up.

you had to sit there processing what happened.

did you just kiss sim jaeyun?

“i saw that little stunt, young lady.” yvette’s voice brings you out of your trance. you had jolted a little and sighed in relief when you realised who it was.

“what stunt?” yvette deadpans at your words.

“don’t lie to me. you and jake did a spiderman kiss. gurl, are you that desperate for his dick. be honest.” she folds her arms. your eyes widened. you could feel your face turn warmer.

“no. why would i-”

“if girls had boners, you’d be having one right now.” yvette casually says. you were stunned.

“yvette, why do you have to say it so vulgarly.” mae says as she appears from her bedroom. she yawns. “if jake and (name) wanna have sex, then they could after all. they are soulmates.”

“i don’t want to fuc-”

“she’s not allowed to. jake still needs to prove that he is good enough for her. after all, 6 years of royally fucking up their super close friendship. almost killing her by plain out rejecting her. rude. i can list more of what happened through out these 30 episodes.” yvette explains. mae sighs, she pats your shoulder.

“you’re on your own (name).”

you had groaned. “it was just one kiss. we aren’t doing anything more than that. i am still waiting for jake to make it up to me.”

“but you’re slowly giving in. i get it, he’s your soulmate. it’s hard to say no and wait but like think about yourself. will you?”

“i know, i know. i’m thinking about myself and i will continue to do so. this was my one moment of weakness, okay? 13 year old me would be so happy.” you had huffed. yvette pinches your cheeks.

“look at you. you’re a simp. this is exactly why jake was your chosen soulmate. you two are simps that it’s gross.”

you rolled your eyes. it gets silent in the house. no chattering from jake in the other room. weird. you had stood up and went over to check up on him but he wasn’t there. oh crap. you had picked up your phone and dialed for sunghoon.

“hello?” sunghoon says.

“jake left to see aria’s mom.”

“already? goddamn it. let me leave now and maybe i can hide somewhere there.”

“alright, be safe.”

“i will.”

the call quickly ends and you had ran to the bathroom to bathe and get ready for the possible scariest time of your life. once you were done, you had ran to put on your shoes. yvette holds you back.

“hey, calm down.”

“i can’t. what if aria’s mom hurts jake?”

“she won’t after all. aria’s dad is the principal of a prestigious school. she can’t ruin his career.”

“we don’t know how crazy she can be.”

“sunghoon will be there. mae also called jay to be the backup. they’ll be there and we can be assured that jake will be safe.” yvette says. you didn’t know what to say or do because you were worried.

“don’t worry. let’s just trust jake. he’ll handle it.” mae places a hand on your shoulder.

“i hope so.” were the only the things you could say.

as for jake, he was busy walking towards a neighbourhood. the address led him to a gated community just like aria’s home however, he would’ve recognised aria’s home easily. he always found it weird that aria has never brought him to her house even in the 6 years they were dating.

‘what a weirdo’, jake thought. he didn’t want to associate himself to aria anymore though. there was no point, after all. he made it right onto the property. in a way, it looked like a witches’ castle. that is until an older man opens the door, he looked sophisticated. a little confused as to who jake was.

“who are you?” he asks. “my apologies, sounds a little rude to say so.”

at least whoever this guy was, he was nice.

“oh, umm. my name is jake. i was im aria’s boyfriend.” jake explains. the man’s eyes widened.

“oh, i’ve heard about you from aria. i am her dad.”

‘so much for the genes not coming from him. aria is not like him at all’, jake thought. he smiles slightly. “oh umm, mrs.im asked me to come over. she wanted to talk about something.”

as soon as jake mentions about aria’s mom, mr.im starts frowning. “she’s in the room. let me go get her. i’m assuming she wants to talk to you about our family.” mr.im pushes the door wider to let jake in. he enters the space. mr.im goes to get mrs.im. after a couple of minutes, aria’s mom appears. she walks down the stairs in her…fur coat(?)

‘crazy woman.’ jake thought as he eyes her down.

she smirks. “ah, jake. welcome to my home. the place where everything is perfect.” she dramatically says.

‘uh huh sure. everything is totally perfect. aria is equally as insane as you are, old woman. acting like a disney villain.’

mr.im rolls his eyes. “why don’t you sit down. the maids will prepare for you to drink something.” he tells jake. jake goes to settle down on the couch. mrs.im eyes mr.im, it seems like their marriage was not all that perfect.

mrs.im settles down on the seat. she sits down like a fine royal woman. however, she clearly isn’t. mr.im rolls his eyes once again.

“since you’re here now, jake. i must ask, why did you have to send our daughter to the mental institution? when she’s clearly fine.” she folds her arm.

“she’s not fine. i can assure you, the people at the mental institution will sort out her feelings and thoughts.” jake explains. mrs.im sighs.

“our daughter was fine before she met you. maybe you two should’ve broken up 6 years ago. you put us in so much trouble.”

“i know i should’ve after all, i have my own reasons as to why i should’ve left.” jake says.

“like what? falling in love with your soulmate? that’s utter nonsense. me and mr.im weren’t soulmates. we simply loved each other so much that we broke our soulmate bonds with our assigned soulmates.”

jake’s jaw drops. mr.im pinches the bridge of his nose.

“how many times do i have to tell you, i never wanted to marry in the first place. we both killed our soulmates by getting married! our daughter was also cursed to not have a soulmate because of your wrongdoings!” mr.im yells. mrs.im rolls her eyes.

“i didn’t kill my soulmate. you did. you wanted this as much as i did.” she fires back. jake watches them go back and forth. it starts to filter out as he processes what exactly was the reason why aria didn’t have a soulmate.

“then what? you go to her grave every single time during her death anniversary. for what? guilt?” mrs.im says.

“i’m doing it out of love. something that a heartless person like you doesn’t have.” mr.im answers.

these were all just family drama but certainly good information. jake didn’t want to intrude further. he had to leave. this was wrong. hence, he slowly stood up and stepped back, leaving the house quietly.

this explains why aria didn’t know what a soulmate was. she doesn’t have a tied soulmate to her. all because of the curse that her mom had started. now all the generations after aria wouldn’t be able to have a soulmate. her kids wouldn’t grow up with a soulmate tied to them. this was a big news. a news he had to break to you and everyone else.

once he leaves the place, sunghoon pops out the shrubs.

“oh fuck.” jake jumps back. sunghoon snickers and pats his shoulder.

“heard something huge?” he asks. jake sighs.

“very huge family drama. i’ll tell you and the others when we get back.” the shrubs moved again. jay falls out of it. he groans.

“i am never playing spy again.”

“don’t worry, we aren’t ever going to do it again. jake has the tea. let’s go back.” sunghoon smacks jay’s shoulder. jay winces.

as they walked out from the gated community, jake’s arms went around both jay’s and sunghoon’s shoulder. it seems like their friendship never had a problem.

taglist[closed]: @sumzysworld @mitmit01 @moon3verland @baribaaari @byty2k @alex-is-sleeping @viagumi @txtlyn @belovedsthings @woninluv @dreamiestay @niniissus @kyutiepeachy @yoongisbaguetteshoes @squiishymeow @jjaammm @enhaz1 @illvding @woniejjang @bee-the-loser @laurradoesloveu @ckline35 @ningx2stan @hoonlvly @clampclover @xyzyx01 @victoriasimm @eneiyri @nshmrarki @woorcve @bubblytaetae @i03jae @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @l1wv00n @onlyhyunjin @kyanmeai @isa942572 @lisaswifey @alisonyus @firstclassjaylee @szkstay @enhamysunshines @milanco @hsbae @zyvlxqht @lixiebokie @wth121 @enahasblog @gongiz @anuisamazing @heestrawberries @gyehyeonist @heelovesmeknot @silquids

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sultrybaby · 3 days ago

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Nothing Compares To Being In Love With You (S.G)

(pics are not mine. credit to rightful owners. divider also from pinterest)

summary🦢 In which a cluster of old letters stand as the only testament of gojo's love for you, from birth to (quite literally) death.

genre 🦢 romance, angst, some fluff

pairing (s) 🦢 gojo x reader | reader x naoya zenin

warnings 🦢 reader/main character death, MAJOR ANGST obviously, not exactly forbidden love but more unfortunate circumstances, domestic abuse, mentions of bleeding and punching (no actual description of the abuse this is unrelated bleeding and punching), excessive use of the word sin in one of the monologues, mentions of glass, naoya zenin sucks, letters are from gojo's pov which might be hard to follow I am not sure. Gojo is down bad.

DO NOT ROMANTICIZE ABUSE. THIS FIC (AND ME) DOES NOT CONDONE ROMANTICIZATION OF ABUSE AND IF U ARE LOOKING FOR FICS THAT DO (WHICH IS SICK) THIS IS NOT THE FIC FOR U AND ALSO PLS BLOCK ME CUZ EW.

a/n: this was supposed to be an enhypen fanfic but then I changed my mind. I'm honestly just shocked I actually finished this. Hopefully this idea has manifested to be as good as it seemed in my head and isn't confusing to follow. ENJOY BESTIESSSSS.

🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢

"So apparently, this house belonged to a young bachelor once," explained Mary to her all-too-curious daughter eveline, who sat wide-eyed like a little lamb on the floor of the new house the family had just moved into.

'Really?"

"Yes, baby," Mary chuckled, running her fingers through eveline's (or evie, as they lovingly call her) hair to brush the strands away from her face.

"Where is he now?"

"Oh I don't know sweetheart," Mary sighed, lightly amused at the disappointment on evie's face.

"But maybe there are some clues around the house! If you ever get the time, you should explore. Who knows, you might find something…"

Evie's eyes twinkled in excitement at the prospect of having an adventure in this foreign pile of bricks that she now had to learn to call home. Perhaps this will create a sense of oneship with the house.

Determined to uncover the secrets of the mysterious young bachelor, little evie started on her mission to unearth every corner of the building. After toppling boxes, crawling through crevices, and occasionally bumping her head on random walls, evie finally uncovered a rather absurd looking block.

And that is the story of how Mary was gifted this curious looking box by her exhausted daughter, waddling excitedly to show her the discovery.

The box had an old-fashioned grace to it. It was clearly disintegrating; cheap, fading, yellowed white paint hung off the corners, all dried up, waiting to be chipped off. It seemed as if there was some kind of locking mechanism in the front of the box which has long been broken. All it took was a simple motion for the mouth of the box to open wide, revealing a neatly stacked set of what one could assume were letters.

The first letter was different to the others. While the rest were prettily folded, this one had a texture much more rough- as if it had been crushed and then straightened again. And on it, in extremely feathery ink, was written,

Dear ____,

You are the sun and the stars and the rose and the beautiful sky. You are made of the serenity of heaven and the tempting evil of hell. You are everything created to be beautiful, and you also make anything beautiful by association. Every day and every night, in light, in darkness, in life, and even now in death, you make me realize why Orpheus would go to the deadly underworld just to get Eurydice back. I understand his pain and longing.

I know we parted ways hurtfully and there is no action I regret more. And in my attempt to tell myself I hated you, I failed in my life's purpose- to truly let you know how much I loved you.

This is a memoir of the love I lost, a love that was but a bubble in air- shining briefly with all the most beautiful colours, then popping abruptly. And this is just an attempt at preserving some of that wonder and beauty so that when my heart aches a bit too much, I can cry to the essence of your soul (which is funny, because you are too much, too great, to be put into words).

Lovingly,

Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,

Satoru Gojo.

A love story- a tragic one, was etched in the letters following. In that little white box was the history of Gojo Satoru's love for this mysterious woman to whom he had devoted his heart entirely.

And so Mary started reading…

Dear ____

Today I decided that I would start attempting to put into words my love for you. In these scraps of paper lie not the true extent of my love- that would be impossible to boil down to mere letters- but just enough for my heart to no longer feel as if it is at the brink of explosion from the pain of carrying the weight of my love for you.

The first time I saw you was when I was rushing to work. What started off as a normal day turned into an irreplaceable, unforgettable memory when I heard an angelic voice bantering with a baker.

"Jesus Antonio a damned second grader could bake better bread in their sleep- it’s not worth more than a dollar a loaf. So I ain't paying any more than that"

I felt compelled by fate to turn around and figure out who was truly the source of this wildly amusing diatribe.

Saying that my eyes were unprepared to capture the beauty I was about to witness would be an understatement. I found myself unable to move, nailed to the ground as I took in the sheer magnificence of your existence. And then I blinked. And you were gone.

I remember shaking my head wildly to see where the angel had disappeared off to, and my heart sighed in relief as I saw your unmistakable figure walk with a triumphant smirk and a loaf of bread that you surely had not paid more than a dollar for.

Today marks the second year since we've known each other. Every day since I have carried the burden of my love with utmost pleasure, because loving you is the greatest experience of my life. Nothing compares to being in love with you. But every so often when I stare at you, hoping the longing in my heart doesn't show in my eyes, I wish you were mine.

Yours forevermore,

Gojo.

Dear ___

The first time we ever talked was in the same bakery I first saw you in, although I will admit it is not as much of a coincidence as it may seem. For every day since I saw you, I wandered around the bakery, hoping to catch a glimpse of your hair again.

First I would wander around the area, walking up and down the road multiple times.

Then I started to stick to the stores right next to the bakery. I bought so many snow globes that I really didn't need, not to mention all those picture frames…

Finally, picking up the courage to meet you, I walked into the bakery. I waited around a bit, but eventually it became clear that you were not making an appearance. Dejected, I decided to get something anyway. I had come to the bakery after all.

"Excuse me, how much for kikufuku" I'd asked

"That's be $3 good sir"

It was as I pulled the notes from my wallet that I heard a familiar voice shrieking,

"ANTONIO HOW DARE YOU RIP OFF THIS GOOD MAN?"

To this day it might be my favourite statement of all time.

I turned around to meet your eyes. All was a blur and before I knew it I had a loaf of bread in my hand along with two of the three dollars I was about to hand in.

"..hello?"

I blinked myself back to reality as I saw you waving your palm good naturedly in front of my face.

"Oh h-hi…"

I saw you giggle, probably at the sight of my extremely flustered face. I could feel the heat absorbing all common sense from my brain.

"What's your name, sir?"

"Sato- Gojo…Gojo Satoru…" I breathed out, "and you?"

"____"

I don't think you will ever realize how much that day changed me. And that's okay. I don't want you to feel the anguish I do. I just want you to keep smiling and giggling as you love to. Oh, and chewing off Antonio's ears, of course.

Yours forevermore,

Gojo.

Dear ___

I know we're just friends, but sometimes when you show up at my door with a bag of sweets that you just happened to remember were my favourite, I wonder if there is something deeper; if there is any possibility that you could feel what I feel. And when you hand me the bag, I wonder if I was just imagining the way your touch lingered as our fingers grazed, if I was just imagining your gaze momentarily resting on mine with the same intensity with which I look and think of you.

I know we're just friends, but then why is it that every moment we spend apart from each other feels like my heart is getting ripped out piece by piece? And I know that you would never experience the anguish I do, but then as we spend hours and hours on the telephone talking and laughing about anything and everything, I can't help but wonder if you would do this just for a friend. I again let myself hope that maybe, maybe you felt at least a fraction of the deep devotion I felt for you. But I would never, ever mention it. For the thought of losing what we have now, of losing the ability to experience heaven even in such simple ways, brings me fear that gnaws at my heart and soul. So I hide my worries and my wishes as I keep listening to the sound of your voice through the telephone.

I know we're just friends but do friends have such deep understanding of each other to the point where your wish is nothing but my instinct?

I know we're just friends but are the lives of friends so deeply intertwined in each other that when you lie next to them you can't sense where you end and they begin? When you can't remember if you're in your house or theirs for that is how much time you spend in each other's lives. At what point of spending every day together does my life turn into yours. ____ I don't know how I can go on living without telling you how much you mean to me.

I know we're just friends, but sometimes I feel the line blurring away when we're drunk and unstable and tangled in each other, both of us holding the other for support. And as we messily fall onto the floor, giggling at our pathetic state, I take the moment to cradle you in my arms. In your drunken frenzy you place the softest of kisses on my cheek, only to fall asleep on my shoulder immediately after. When I'm staring at you longingly I can't help but wonder, what are we? What is this love, this gentleness, this warmth? Is this friendship? Is friendship supposed to be so overwhelming? The weight of these questions momentarily crush me, but it all fades away as I stare at your beautiful being, peacefully snoring on my shoulder. And in that moment, all my worries take the backseat, and all I care about is protecting this peace of yours. Whether I do that as a lover or a friend is not a matter to me.

Yours forevermore,

Gojo.

This might be the last time I speak of my love for you, for today you told me that you love me too. So I no longer have to express it in secret, but I can let you know wholeheartedly.

I will never forget the way your head rested against my shoulder, nose-deep in your book. And as I failed to look away from you, I didn’t realize that you had turned to look at me too. I will never forget the way your hand rested on my shoulder as you pulled yourself up to look me in the eye, while I sat there stupidly, mesmerized by the way you moved, so gentle, so light, so ethereal.

Most importantly, I will never forget the way you cupped my face, the subtlest of tears shining in your eyes, and told me, breath hitching at every note,

"Satoru I don't know what I'm feeling. I know I shouldn't be feeling this but I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if you do either. It would kill me to ruin our friendship but this anguish is killing me too and so I'm going to kiss you now and if you don’t like it feel free to punch me"

You leaned forward, and just before you kissed me you stole a glance at my face. And that was when I let go of all the restraints I had placed on my heart.

It was something in the way that our eyes locked; the brilliant world built on the lies of our hearts crumbling as I cried on your lips in prayer. Maybe this was sin, but the tears I drank were proof that underneath all the chaos hid something real, and it was hidden for no reason but the fact that the world my god created was also made of the same kind of sin as her touch, unprepared to accept the beauty of it all. Damn the preachers, look at her face. Will not the angels sing in her name? If God hated sin so, why did he give her the same beauty as that of his mountains and oceans and the moon? We all are born of sin and sinners at the hour of our death, but I alone had the privilege of being absolved by sin.

I love you, ___. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Yours forevermore,

Satoru.

Dear ___

I know I said I wouldn’t write more of these since I don’t need to hide my love for you any longer but it turns out I'm incapable of stopping my expression of devotion towards you. I love you in ways that I want to etch down. I want to world to know how much I love you. Even after we're dead and gone, I want these words to stay there forever, because that is the nature of my love for you. Permanent. Everlasting.

I love the way your pretty little hands smooth over my tensed shoulders when I've had a long day. Your chest against my back, your hands enveloping me from behind, the way you whisper into my ear has me wishing for nothing more than the moment to last forever. I love you.

I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you cup my cheeks like a child before kissing them. I love the way you kiss my forehead, the way you kiss my nose, the way you kiss my upper lip, my chin, my shoulder, my eyes. Every bit of proof that an angel like you could ever love me has me in awe, in reverence of how simple it is for you to have me wrapped around your little finger. I love you.

I love the soft little touches that are so characteristic of the way you love. I love the way you fix my messy hair. I love the way you pull me closer during cold breezes, claiming it is to keep me warm. And I stand there in adoration of how cute you look as you hide yourself in the crook of my jacket. And I embrace you in my warmth as if I could never let you go. I love the way you absent mindedly play with my fingers. I love the way you link your arms with mine. I love the way you lean in close to wipe something from the corners of my mouth. I love all of it I love you.

I love it when you're so happy that you do a little dance. I love it when you're so nervous about sneaking away from an important meeting with your family members and running to me that you keep spacing out a little, making that really cute zoned out face of yours. I even love your beautiful diamond tears, even if I hate what it is that made you cry, when you're frustrated with all that your mother and father want from you. I love you I love you I love you.

I love you so much, ___. I can only hope that I remind you of it enough.

Love,

Satoru

"Mama that paper is pretty crumplyy- Mama are you ok?"

Dear ___

No.

It can't be.

I keep telling myself it can't be but your words cling to my skin, the cacophony of which psychedelically revolve around my soul.

It can't be It can't be It can't be

“'toru… we can’t do this anymore. It’s over. I'm getting married.”

“Married? You’re joking, right? Did your parents finally find some guy who fits their impossibly high standards?”

“This isn’t a joke, toru, They have found someone. He’s a good match. Someone stable, responsible. I’ve… agreed to it.”

“Wait… you agreed to it? So you’re just… going along with it? After everything we’ve been through? After us?”

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is. My family expects me to marry someone who can provide stability, someone they can rely on. You and I… we were just… a dream.”

“A dream? That’s what this was to you? A dream? And you’re just going to… throw it away?”

“Yes I mean… toru, look at you. You live life as if you’re still a kid, as if nothing really matters. You laugh everything off, even the serious things, and that’s— That’s not what I need! I need someone who can give me certainty. Someone who can give me a future.”

“Certainty? Is that all I am to you, just some silly guy who can’t give you a future? Because I would have. I would have done anything to make it work, and you know it.”

“No, Satoru, you wouldn’t have, You’d have tried for a while, but eventually, you’d get restless. That’s who you are—you go wherever you feel like going, with no thought for consequences, no… no sense of commitment. And I can’t live like that.”

“You don’t know that! You’re deciding all this for both of us. You’re… you’re running away, choosing some path that someone else picked out for you. How is that the stability you want? It’s just… it’s just giving up.”

“No, it’s not giving up! You don’t understand. This isn’t just about you or me. It’s about family, tradition… things that are bigger than both of us. You’re acting like a child who thinks love is all that matters. Well, it’s not. Not in my world.”

“I see. So you’d rather marry a stranger than even give us a chance? Than let me try to be what you need?”

“Gojo… I love you. But love isn’t enough to change everything. I wish it were. But it’s not.”

“Maybe you don’t love me as much as you think, then.”

“Don’t… don’t say that, I’ll never stop loving you, but I need to let you go. And you…You need to let me go, too. It’ll be easier that way.”

“Easier? You’re not making anything easier, trust me. I’ll never forget you. I’ll always wonder what we could’ve been… but you’re right, aren’t you? I’m just too silly, too carefree to matter.”

Naoya Zenin. The heir of one of the biggest families in the nation. Rich, powerful, handsome. Perfect. He was perfect it seemed. And so were you.

But the anger in my heart doesn’t still. Maybe because I don’t want to accept the truth- that I truly was never enough for you.

Because I know that you are not that perfect. Because it was your imperfection that I fell in love with. And the imperfect you casted the imperfect me away because you were imperfect in a way that everyone loved and I was imperfect in a way no one could bear to see. You were imperfect in a way that could be fixed by getting you married (as your wretched family never failed to mention) while I was…unfixable.

Broken.

We were both broken shards, and in our interweaved misery I deluded myself into believing we came from the same piece of glass. When you bled on me I drank your suffering, living through my burning throat just to hold you up. But you were always meant to be great, and I was not. And I told myself that I made you, breathed you into creation. That you were nothing without me. That the time I spent crafting your wings made me something, as if you had not discarded them as soon as you could. Your apathy was cruelty, your fame a testimony to the different seas of being that we are. And as I hung from the broken bridge I built, you flourished.

But in those fluttering moments when our eyes meet, those intense seconds where two frail souls reach out their hands in memory of what once used to be, of what once was the truth, I see that broken woman again. It makes me realize that you were a gorgeous vase dropped on accident, while I was a pair of rose tinted glasses broken in frustration. You were crafted to be beautiful, temporarily set back by fate, while I would forever just be a memory of the lies we tell ourselves.

But a broken vase can never be put back together, and someday, the world would know that your greatness was just a house of cards; fated to be toppled over by the dying breath of the frail strands that tied our hearts together.

Yours,

Satoru.

Dear ___,

I was so sure I understood, so sure that I was the one who’d been wronged. All I saw was you walking away, slipping through my fingers, and it burned—I let it fill me with anger, as if I was the only one hurt by it all. I couldn’t see past my own pain to realize you were scared. You weren’t breaking up with me because you didn’t care, but because you were… trapped.

The Saddest of stories are always of the happiest of people; the ones whose heart lit up at the sight of the world. But the world was too cruel to some of them, and love is never enough to carry one through the ugliness of this world we live in. And soon enough comes a time when looking at a glass of water causes heartache, and every light is so blinding that it physically pains you to get out of bed, and when all that lingers is the feeling of cold numbness inside. By then love is all forgotten, holding no meaning. No amount of care or happiness can fix the damage caused by the seemingly harmless boredom. Boredom then turns to dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction turns to hopelessness, and through all of this there are those who can put up the façade of a healthy life.

We never see them- or at least see them as they truly are. Sad, Bored, a little dead on the inside. It's not like they seem to be happy or cheerful either- just nothing out of the ordinary. But the ordinary deceives the mind, and we leave out those little moments when their face breaks and the tears slip and the bandaid falls of- not because the wound has healed, but because it has bled too much. And also because it is not the kind of wound that a bandaid can fix. But they ignore this, and keep sticking bandaids (sometimes loosely attaching the same one over) in hopes that it will one day work the way they expect. But this only causes the wound to turn toxic, until it turns numb. And you think this means it has healed, but it is only when it is slightly brushed against, and the unbearable pain jolts throughout, that you realize that its just gotten worse in silence.

I didn’t even think to ask if you were okay. I thought you were just cold, maybe even heartless, telling me you needed someone more stable, someone responsible. But now, I see that you were pleading for something I didn’t understand. You needed help, someone to see through what you couldn’t say. You needed someone who’d ask why you said those things, why you looked so… afraid. And I missed it. I didn’t stop to question why you had this sadness behind your words, this weight pressing on you. I was too focused on being right, on feeling betrayed, to see what was right in front of me.

I convinced myself that you just wanted a different life, something that didn’t involve me, when really, you were… struggling. I should have seen that the way you talked about him, about your 'future,' was hollow. I should have noticed how you’d say the word 'marriage' like it was a sentence, not a choice. And instead of asking you, instead of listening—I let myself believe you were leaving me for someone else, that you’d never loved me the way I loved you. I made it about me, when all you needed was someone who could see what you couldn’t say out loud.

And now, here I am, replaying every word, every conversation, and wondering why I didn’t ask the right questions, why I didn’t push just a little harder to know what was really going on. I was supposed to be the one who loved you. But instead of standing by you, instead of seeing your fear, I just… got angry. I made you feel like you were wrong for leaving me, when in reality, you were just trying to survive. You were terrified, and I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to realize you needed me.

So now I’m left here with nothing but regrets, wishing I had seen the truth, wishing I’d known enough to tell you I’d help, that you weren’t alone. And now… now it’s too late. And I’ll never forgive myself for that

If only you knew that I would have been there for you. When he hurt your body and your heart and mind, I would have been there. If I had known, an angel like you would not have suffered more than a mere second in the house of a tyrant. If I had known, you would be laughing in my arms instead of crying on his floor. If I had known, maybe you would still be here with me.

Naoya Zenin.

That monster. I always hated him, but I thought… I thought it was jealousy. Just me being petty. But now I see him, in my mind—the way he looked at her, the way he… possessed you, like you were some damn object. He never saw you, not the way you really were. No. To him, you were just something he could cage, something to crush under his control.

How could he do it? How could he look you in the eyes and destroy you? How could he even live with himself? You loved life; you loved people, loved him, once—God, that makes it worse. He didn’t deserve a second of your love. He didn’t even deserve to be in the same room as you, and yet he was the one… he was the one who had you, day after day. His hands, that sick, twisted mind—you suffered because of him. And he’ll never pay enough for what he’s done. No punishment, no hell is deep enough for him.

I should have seen it. All those times I got frustrated with you, thinking you were pulling away, that you were lying to me. But you weren't lying, were you? You were hiding it, hiding the pain… because you knew I wouldn’t understand. I’d always get so mad, so impatient, thinking you were just… playing games, trying to hurt me. But you weren't. You were crying for help, and I just walked away, time after time. I thought I was so… righteous, so hurt. I thought I deserved the truth, that I had the right to be angry.

But I didn’t see your pain, did I? I never stopped to look closer, to ask you if you were really okay. I didn’t see how you’d flinch when he’d call, how you’d go silent, like you were somewhere far away. You were in hell, and all I cared about was my own heart. I was supposed to protect you, and instead, I pushed you back into his arms. I let you go back to him, and now… now you're gone."

And there’s nothing I can do to bring you back. Nothing I can do to make up for the times I failed you, for not listening, for not… seeing. It’s too late. I lost you forever. And it’s my fault.

I'm sorry, love.

Yours forevermore,

Satoru.

Dear ___

Today I watched you buried. I couldn’t see your face, as I maintained my distance, not trusting myself to be able to bear to be next to the ones who allowed you to be hurt. Moreover, I refuse to believe that you are gone. You're in my heart, and you always will be.

But as the day descended into night, and the yard was empty for miles, I dared to come close.

And I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I don't know when the hot tears started falling, mind blank as my knees thumped against the cold hard ground. And suddenly, all the agony clutched at my throat till I couldn't breathe, and I sobbed. I sobbed and bawled till I couldn’t feel my breath anymore. I needed the pain out of me but I didn't know how and in a vain attempt to ease the pain I punched and punched the ground as if it would cause you to come back to life again. As if it was the fault of the earth for taking you away from me. I cried hideously and clawed monstrously at the ground, but nothing changed. I rested my head on the grass in exhaustion, and thumped my head against the ground in anger as the tears kept falling. But even as I choked on the soil, nothing changed. I was still alone except for the company of the solitude taking pity on my pathetic state. I could feel the nothingness embrace me, comforting me, for I was truly alone in the world now, and I could feel it to my core.

And although my heart is numb and even as the bruises on my fingers from punching the floor bleed onto the page, I cannot stop myself from writing. I write and write and write because these letters are the only thing keeping you alive and I'm afraid if I stop then you will truly be gone and that can't be it can't be it can't.

Because no matter where you are, my heart still beats for you. And despite the pain that follows the realization that yours no longer beats at all, I want to live forever. I want this simple heart of mine to thrum in your honor until the end of time. So that I can keep the feeling of being in love with you. So that I can, just for a moment, remember that I had the honour of being in love with you. Because nothing compares to being in love with you.

Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,

Satoru.

a/n: hope you enjoyed. ive never written for jjk before and although ive watched the show and am familiar w the manga idk if this is ooc im sry. i have wanted to write for jjk for a while now tho so i am glad i did. i love angst if you couldnt tell btw.

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bisnes-socks · 2 days ago

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i have a lot to say about this one so pack a snack and let's make sex moneyyy

i think this is one of the most openly culture and media (and social media) critical songs he has. i think it's a super daring song that probably makes the likes of certain helsingin sanomat music critics a little bit uncomfortable, because he is spitting facts - and because he has a relationship with sex for show that people for some reason are still quite weird about.

to start a little further back: we all know sex sells. we all know the music industry uses sex to sell their products. but for some reason, in the year of our lord 2024, a musical artist verbally recognising that they are using their sexuality and sexual themes to build their brand is somehow scandalous. it's like.. it's okay to use sex to sell your art, if it's like "accidental" MTV sexuality or like agreeing to looking objectifiable. the media will call you hot and sexy and wow. but if you own your sexuality, make it obvious that yes this is sexual, i'm being very deliberately sexual and i am trying to be sexual..? oh no that won't do! scandal! we've seen it with so many artists, especially female artists. like WAP is a great example! how scandalous that suddenly these women had agency in their own sexuality! but no-one said a word when their sexuality served the usual male gaze agenda. it's like people are so much more comfortable being peeping toms who sexualise and objectify artists when they're not looking, but as soon as the artist does it as part of their whole thing? well now it's inappropriate actually.

he talked about this in a helsingin sanomat interview, saying how he does actually think things revolve too much around sex in the music industry, even though he uses sex and sexual themes himself to sell things as well, and that he sees the irony in saying that. but the difference, in my opinion, is that the way he, or someone like erika vikman for example, is so open and upfront about the sexual themes, that it becomes carnevalistic, it becomes camp. it's not insidiously using sexual and heteronormative objectifying imagery to get people horny. what käärijä does is playful and fun sexuality, and for whatever reason that is so unusual it needs to be talked about separately as something a bit wild and scandalous, and he needs to be asked to explain his actions.

and that's what this song is. he's very clearly saying none of this is accidental. the visuals of his brand, the social media content, the onlyfans thing, none of it is coincidental, accidental or anything other than his perfectly deliberate way of selling sex. and he has talked about these themes before, he has talked about like the rammstein live stuff that inspired him (some of it is pretty hardcore stuff) so to his fans it's nothing surprising that sexual themes are present in the brand and interest him. but he has also talked about how, even if this song is a bit tongue in cheek, he's also serious. and he is right. and for some reason calling people out about the fact that sex makes them buy things, even when it's true, is still.. scandalous somehow.

and he's basically calling people easy lmao. like, i needed to figure out a lil boost to my career and well, i know what will make you throw money at me. and i won't be shy about it either.

i'm getting sidetracked. the song.

and then that is enough to warrant lyrics such as "koko perheen käärijästä koko perheen krapula" meaning "käärijä for the whole family turning into a hangover for the whole family".

but it was all already there! let's not for a second pretend CCC was some sort of family show and a family song. it's not. but people were okay with that, because they could happily confuse the camp and carnevalistic sexuality of käärijä with the campness and carnevalistic nature of eurovision, and because it wasn't more than the suggestive sexual nature of everything else around them. and it was all just fun, when kids came up with their own lyrics to the song because they couldn't understand the references to drinking. so then people took their kids to see him at shows and became scandalised by the adult nature of it all. it's like.. people were fine letting their kids see the everyday media sexuality that we see in every eurovision, fine letting their kids get used to that, and then just sort of didn't think käärijä would be anything different. but he's only different in that in his show and brand, sex and sexuality aren't denied while still blatantly obviously there.

but again, a lot of this is to do with media, and what media normalises and what it doesn't. what it deems newsworthy and what it doesn't.

if in ready to go he's telling haters that i know you want to see me try and fail, maybe even be too embarrassed to try, but baby i'm ready to go, then in sex = money he's saying i know you want to see me naked and i know you want sex from all of this, so here you go, i'll sell you some sex. and then he stands there holding eye contact like what are you going to do with it. what a cunty king.

and there are so many fun and funny little details in this song.

right in the first verse we have "kieli taittuu sköödi föödi." good old sköödi föödi. i tried to find the earliest example of sköödi föödi, but i'm starting to think it might predate the internet, or at least social media. not to bring up köpi kallio again, but they use sköödi föödi a lot in viki ja köpi show, and köpi just happened to tweet about it in 2020, saying he believes sköödi föödi has been around for at least 20 years (someone tried to credit viki and köpi for it). so, what does sköödi föödi mean, you ask. it does not mean anything at all. sköödi föödi is just a sound, a noise you make, when you need it, usually in place of something in a foreign language but not exclusively. in this instance, sköödi föödi is him demonstrating his excellent english skills. sköödi föödi (pronounced almost like a sterotypical tv american would say skirdy-firdy) means nothing and it means everything, whatever you need it to mean.

it is also noteworthy to point out that "kieli taittuu" can be a reference to two different things here. the finnish word kieli means both tongue and language. so he could also be saying that he has a very bendy and flexible tongue, like literally. which, of course, all of europe has already seen. taittua literally means to fold or bend, but it's a common phrase to say, that if you can do something, you bend it (or more like it bends as a result). so literally the line translates to "language/tongue bends sköödi föödi".

the first verse ends in "sekö jos mikä on varma nakki" meaning "that, if anything, is a sure thing". nakki literally means a sausage, a hot dog sausage, weiner sausage, you name it: a small sausage. so translating literally: "that if anything is a sure sausage". it's a common phrase in spoken finnish, nothing unusual about that, but i love that he used it, because it makes the next line hilarious on a first listen, when the chant comes in. so when they start chanting NAK- NAK- i really thought they were gonna shout NAKKI. but no, it is nakuna, naked.

okay still with me? good. let's look at the "tein onlyfans bägin, koko suomen daddy" section next.

i remember when the song came out, people did explain who danny is, but in case anyone missed it, danny is a singer from finland, and he was a MASSIVE star back in the day, especially in the 70's. so to say he is bigger than danny is indeed quite the flex, because danny was like.. the finnish equivalent of elvis, basically. but danny is not just a flex, he turns danny into a clever thematical scheme here (more on thematical schemes in the bananas post, if you're interested). he says "kadulla on kuumaa, ne pyytää mua hätiin" and this is a reference to one of danny's most popular and famous songs, kesäkatu. smart, smart, smart! and then of course "kadulla on puumaa, mut mulla on jo täti" meaning there are cougars on the street, but i already have an aunt. which, that to me reads like both a cunty quip and a himbo line all at once. like shutting down some man wanting to be your daddy by telling him "but i already have a father". i nearly choked laughing the first time i heard the line.

also can i just say, calling himself the daddy of finland? like, thinking about the whole context i talked about at first, how people are comfortable with sexual stuff and sexualising, but not comfortable recognising it or being real about it or celebrating it? yeah knowing all that, he just called himself EVERYONE'S daddy in a song called sex = money, and he's not even wrong 😭

in conclusion: i love this song. and i love the attitude in it. it's like he is looking everyone, from every uncomfortable insecure hetero man, every scandalised parent to every tabloid journalist, straight in the eye and saying "yes, i'm selling sex. why? well i couldn't think of anything else, but then again, why should i? isn't this what you want? this is what you want. i know what you want. i'm your daddy."

like if he truly wanted to, he really could have this country on their knees for him, don't tell me last independence day didn't prove it. as much as he gets crap as well, at the end of the day, he has people under a spell by simply being, well, bigger than danny. and he-man.

now. the placement of the song on the album, right after autiomaa.

i personally don't think that the album builds one cohesive narrative from beginning to end. but i think this can be read two ways: a sad way and an empowering way. the sad way to read it is that he means it when he says he couldn't come up with anything else and his creativity is fried, but sex sells so he does that, and it's a bit mindless. but given the context of what he has had to say about this song, i'm more inclined to read this the empowering way: he has worked on himself and found a way to see things more clearly, and he has found it in himself to even be confrontational about things. the whiplash of the song order i think is more to highlight the fact that autiomaa is a rare glimpse into something different, and now here we go again. to me, sex = money makes autiomaa even more powerful, but autiomaa doesn't change the interpretation of sex = money all that much for me.

you really can't be upset about the song without proving his point. and you can't love the song without proving his point. facts have been spat and points have been proven. absolute king behaviour.

and if you read through this whole thing, i owe you money. cash money, not sex money. well, we'll talk about it.

bonus: i absolutely love that he knows how to say "make some noise" on this track, but continues to say "give me some voice" or some sort of a hybrid word between voice and noise, something like.. woise, at his international shows. the king of in through one ear, out through the other. he, she, noise, voice, he doesn't know the differences and does not care.

bonus bonus for the sad bojere bitches:

second verse: "täl alal ei sua kukaa huomaa" meaning "nobody will notice you in this field (of work)". maybe my brain is rotted but this moment reminds me so much of the famous liverpool bojere lunch date video where bojan tries to parrot jere, who is saying "tääl ollaa nyt, tota" and bojan goes "talalaiteta" and then they both proceed to giggle about it like it's the funniest thing anyone has ever said. "täl alal" goes out to you, bojan titanic.

#käärijä

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 days ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief. And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me. And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed. Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.) Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences. Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are. I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington. And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll.

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

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under-loch-n-key · 2 days ago

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Hi everyone. Obviously everyone has seen the news and read the polls and obviously you can tell that we’re likely cooked.

For some reason our country wants to elect the Mango Menace and his gaggle of orange stained goons once again.

I am terrified for myself, my loved ones, my country, our climate, and just everything.

However, I’d like to tell the LGBTQIA+ community these things because I know we are terrified right now.

What happened today, it’s devastating. It angers me too. Some of my closest family voted for that horrible man. I don’t think I can look at them the same way anymore. Especially, when they hold no guilt or remorse about it even after I explained his policies to them. What do I know, I guess.. 🤷🏻‍♂️🙄

However, as a queer, trans man in this little community, I want ALL of the LGBTQIA+ people who will see this post to know that things will be alright. We all have each other. We know we exist here in the states even if none of us have met. We EXIST.

Just because those orange stained dunderheads want to silence us doesn't change the fact that we exist. We do. We always will. Bigotry cannot fight facts and science. We'll always exist. The only time trans people won't exist is when the human race dies out. Even then, we have other animal species that are queer and trans. No matter what, we will always exist in nature. They cannot change that. They cannot take that from us. Do not lose hope. Even though it's really fucking hard not to.

Do not lose it. The fact that you and I exist is a beacon of hope to another trans and queer person. We exist. None of us want to be left here alone. So we must go on. We must continue to exist. Things WILL be okay. I'll always keep fighting and living for you and every one of my trans and queer brothers, sisters, and siblings.

You existing and simply being here is a beacon of hope to me. Someone who has understands how I'm feeling. Someone who is LIKE me but so different at the same time.

In the grand scheme of the universe, we are very small. However, even though it's small, the fact is that it EXISTS. It's so fucking small in this big void of the cosmos but we're here. We're made of similar components as stars, ones that had to die for us to exist.

I like to think of the sky as when humanity was truly equal. When we were just atoms in the big ol' void, ya know? We didn't fight. We didn't give a shit about all of this stuff. We were allll different types of stars and matter. We were all random as hell, but we just WERE. We coexisted peacefully together in the universe.

Now that those stars are dead as a door nail and some dumb fishy bastard decided to get curious and walk on land, we're all human. Humanity fucking sucks ass sometimes but it's also such a beautiful fucking thing. No matter what happens, a part of us will always exist.

Our existence is embedded in the universe. Nothing can change that. So, please keep living. Be safe, but keep living. Always keep fighting. We belong here just like anyone else.

You belong. You are loved. You are cherished. You are noticed by me and other people here. We all understand each other. So keep going. Again, one day we will all have a better tomorrow. I swear to fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, if anything, however it's unlikely, I will ALWAYS keep fighting for you and WITH you.

Every protest l attend. Every petition I sign. Every time I vote. Every time I go to pride. Every time l simply leave my home as I am. I am doing it for you and all of us. Our people WILL have our damn tomorrow. I'm sick of us not having it. I swear to you we will. So, again, please keep going. Keep fighting. Keep living. Exist. Your existence may be a threat to some bigoted fucker but your existence is precious to someone else. Please do not let them take your right to exist away from you. Keep going.

We’ll have a better tomorrow, the one that we deserve eventually, but we just need get through the hard, bumpy, dirty road first.

Again, we will be okay. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through it. Yes, unfortunately, we will likely see suicide rates and hate crime rates go up and that's disgusting and just all types of awful and depressing. It angers me beyond words.

However, we are strong.

We shouldn't have to be strong though.

What we should be and need to be is loved, accepted, warm, fed, have shelter, and are safe.

For now though, we remain strong. You will always have a place here.

You will live. You will not die, hun. I know the thought creeps in and believe me, I understand. Those thoughts creep in for me too, but we must learn to try to control them. If there's anything I know about us trans and queer folk it's that we're strong, feisty, kind, very sexy, and cheeky as hell. So, if we live, we live because it's our damn right and to be spiteful. We do not owe the people who want to harm us our lives. We just don't. We deserve healthcare. We deserve to love and get married.

We deserve to grow old.

You will grow old. You will be able to go on those trips you've always wanted. You will be able to have that cheesy romance you've always wanted, if you are someone who is wanting a relationship.

You'll be able to sit down and watch your favourite movie. Why? Because you stayed. You didn't give up. Ever. We will always exist.

We will ALWAYS live.

Being transgender has existed before humans even walked this earth and it will still exist when all of us book our holy bus tickets and the blessed holy tax collector comes to collect our debted souls. No matter what, we will live on. They can silence us all they want and erase whatever the fuck they want but that doesn't mean that it's the truth. We're HERE.

We've been here since forever ago. Those Cheeto dusted dunderheads cannot change that. Like I told another person here, other animals and even plants are trans and queer! We've always been here. That won't change, hun.

Everything WILL be okay. We'll always survive and live on. Look at how far we've come in these past years. Many of us thought that we'd be gone already but here we are, two trans people typing away in comment sections on an app where middle age men get off to octopus porn and neko ladies in Japanese school girl outfits because men. and welcome to the internet, I guess. Lmao.

Everything will work out on way or another. We'll have our tomorrow, hun. For now, we gotta buckle down because we're in for a bumpy ride but hey, thankfully on bumpy you have those moments where ya hit the bump just right and you're like

"WOAH, HELLO!- mister bump, you better watch yourself, you saucy boy~ You can't be doin' that. You better take me to dinner first." Lmao. Okay, on a more serious note, we just gotta buckle down together and get through this bumpy ass dirt road because after awhile you make it through that rocky dirt road in the woods and come out to feel smooth pavement again. It'll be alright. We just need to band together and make it through. We all are always stronger together. You're not alone, my friends.

You're talkin' to a guy who has the personality of a gay muppet with a big mouth. I'm shocked nothin’ has happened to me yet with my yappy ass screeching and getting over 80+ gay people to start baa-ing like sheep at a bigot at last year's pride event, but that's a wholeeeee different situation.

My point is, we'll be okay. We'll make it through.

You'll survive. You have me. You have everyoneeeee here and on other social forums. Sure, it's not the same as in-person interactions but it's somethin'. It’s better than nothing I guess. If we’ve gotta go stealth mode eventually and make secret groups for us trans and queer folk, then so be it.

Just do whatever you feel you need to do to keep yourselves safe.

We'll have a better tomorrow. We just need to keep pushing through this rough shit. We'll get out of the woods and onto smooth pavement with open skies eventually.

Continue to exist. Fight. Be safe, but live. Live for yourself, fellow trans people, and simply for spite.

Fuck bigots. Not actually though. Like DON'T fuck them. Who knows where they've been. But fuck them. They're not worth your life. Their bigotry is not worth your life. Live because it's your right.

Those guys are all so far up Donald Trump’s ass he fired his doctor and hired his supporters to give him a colonoscopy.

So, live long. Live for love and live for spite, my friends. We'll get through this.

It’s Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo. SPOILER: The first movie sucked too. They even tried to make a third one — Mango Menace Strikes Back! We didn’t want to come to the theatre to see the second one but it was a class field trip that most of America signed for us. So, we’ve allll got no choice but to go on the trip to the cinema.

Anyways, things will be okay. We’ll make it through. We’ll out get it figured out. We always do. We’ll take care of each other. Everything will be alright. 🤙🏼💛⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨

(Sorry for typos and repetitive speech- it’s 4:14 a.m. EST. 😭😭)

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shortkinglogan · 2 days ago

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Actually bringing his back to try and explain it better because I looked at this and realized I should have eaten before trying to talk about this, I'm very bad at explaining things.

Anyway the basic idea is that evolution is a tree, some body plans die off some evolve and adapt and some stay mostly unchanged, it's not a linear advancement to a specific body plans.

You can see how that works in the one zoom tree thing I linked above it's really cool actually it even lets you search a specific species and has extinct animals as well.

I don't know much about genetics but I do know if mutants evolved from a different animal than apes, they wouldn't be able to make offspring with any homo genus, even if they evolved the exact same body plans as homosapiens and other hominids (hominids being other "human" species like neanderthal and homo erectus) if a humanoid mustelid tried to mate with a hominid it'd go as well as a wolf with a fox, which is to say, no babies.

So for this to make sense, either mutants are just another branch of hominid, and are also in the great ape family, OR, the X-gene came from a more distant relative of apes, but not too distant.

that's why I chose shrews, between their very weird adaptations and superpowers that most mamals don't have, and the fact that they are the closest related non ape mamals to humans, tells me that it could be possible that the X-gene that would also be present in modern shrews explaining their crazy adaptations (in the comics universe) and be evidence for a theory, in which;

Mutants descended from a shrew like animal closely related with the rodents that eventually evolve into humans and they had hybridized offspring and continued to do so with this other species evolving along side it until both were near indistinguishable from each other.

This would mean there would also be branching of both where you get superpowered ape, rodent, and shrew species with the X-gene, though probably less present in ape and rodent populations than shrews because of humans being closer to apes and mutants being closer to shrews.

Tbh I hope this makes more sense, but it still feels off to me, I'm not sure if it's actually possible for two closely related species to evolve like that with each other but sperate and still maintain the ability to mate and evolve the same body plans, but then again, we are talking about comics where a mutation can manifest with puberty and range from growing colorful fur to being able to read minds and lift objects with your brain, so I guess anything is possible 😆

An important thing to note is that Logan is not human! Yes, he looks human but he isn't. He is a feral mutant. He is his own species.

My theory how the feral mutants were created is that they evolved from canines and mustelids rather than apes. So alongside the Neanderthals they were these beings and they carried the X-Gene and mated with the modern human thus creating the mutants that Logan's paternal side of the family descends from.

And Logan has a lot of animals qualities. He has claws, little fangs and is nocturnal. He hunts and has keen senses. Yes, he is civilized from living among humans but trigger him enough and he will growl at you.

And Wade accepts that. He accepts Logan for who and what he is, rather than tell him what he should and shouldn't be. (Unlike Kayla and Stryker cough cough) And Logan finally learns to love himself, something he hasn't done in all his lifetime

#ok i think i explained it better #i mean go ahead with the mustelid theory i cant stop you #my brain just wanted to make this make more sense for myself #just got a flashbak of when i tried to figure out if this shapeshifting species i made should be able to hybridize with humans or not

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slaymitchabernathy · 2 days ago

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The Nanny

꧁ One Week Later ꧂

Soarynn brings her hands up to her mouth, blowing air onto them in hopes of warming them up. It snowed last night and the children have been itching to explore the fresh blanket of fallen snow since the second they woke up.

The girls giggle while they run around the snow-covered grounds, leaving behind tiny footprints. Soarynn smiles at the sight, doing her best to forget about how terrified she had been a week prior. To forget about the attack.

When they arrived at the Capitol the morning after, they moved silently. No one had been made aware of the conflict that took place in Four and Coriolanus planned on keeping it that way. They exited through the front of the train, heading down a dark maintainence tunnel where a car was waiting for them.

Very few people were told about the attack, such as Quintus Heavensbee and the family doctor who conducted several checks on Soarynn and the children once they were safely inside the President's Mansion. He told her that her nose wasn't broken, only swollen, and that the bruising around her eye would disappear. He also provided some healing salve to speed up the process.

He had offered to test for the possibility of any sexually transmitted diseases but she assured him that nothing had transpired while she was held captive. Part of her wondered if Coriolanus didn't entirely trust her, would he go to such lengths to confirm or deny her claim?

Coriolanus had locked himself away in his study the first day they got back from the trip, goodness knows how much work he would have to do. But he's been acting more...flippant. Asking her how she's doing more often, checking in on her more often, encouraging her to ask the staff for anything she might possibly need. As if she could ever need anything while living with him and his family.

He seems more caring but Soarynn wonders if it's because of the attack or what transpired after. The kiss.

Oh, that kiss has been the bane of her existence. Some of her wishes that she let it go further, that she spent the night in his embrace. But the other half of her is glad she didn't give in to her desires. Even though she really wanted to.

He had come up to her the following day with specific instructions that she could not under any circumstances leave the property with or without the children until he said so. Soarynn had been a bit put off by that order but he explained that no one could see her in this injured state, and he wasn't too keen on letting his children out of his sight at the moment. So, they stayed inside, they could go out onto the grounds so long as they didn't go beyond the fence. It's not like they could with the heightened Peacekeeper presence surrounding the Mansion.

The Snows were on high alert.

Soarynn had asked Eudora if they'd still be throwing the end-of-the-year party and Eudora confirmed that the party was still on as far as she knew. Soarynn hoped it would stay that way, the girls were so excited about it.

"Look Soarynn! I made a snow angel and I'm a Snow!"

Soarynn walks over to Ceraphina who's sitting in the snow, not a care in the world as to how cold it is outside right now. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the girls to wear coats, hats, and gloves before they braved the cold but Soarynn insisted that they wear the gloves. Caspian had already thrown his off, he hated the things and Soarynn had given up on making him wear them about an hour ago.

"What a beautiful angel," Soarynn says, giving Ceraphina a nod of approval. Celeste runs between the two of them, her pink scarf flying behind her like a cape. Celeste had insisted on wearing her favorite pink scarf as well, claiming that it was the "perfect accessory."

"There's Daddy," she points, looking up at the large windows overlooking the grounds.

Soarynn looks up as well, her heart beats a little faster when she spots Coriolanus looking down on them. "Wave to your father Cas," Soarynn says, lifting one of Caspian's little arms. Caspian mumbles something about Lenny who was not allowed to come to play in the snow for fear of him getting dirty and buries his head in her neck. Soarynn chuckles, pressing a kiss to his head, "You'll see Lenny soon when you take your nap."

She looks back up at Coriolanus one more time, offering him a wave this time, and to her surprise, he returns it. Another man joins him after a moment, Quintus Heavensbee from the looks of it and he also waves which is a big hit with the girls who gasp and also start waving. "Daddy can see us!" Celeste says, running up to Soarynn and clinging to her leg.

Soarynn nods, tearing her gaze away from the most conflicting man she's ever met to focus on his darling daughter, "He certainly can," she agrees, "and you look so stylish in your winter coat."

Both girls wore light pink coats today to match their hats while Soarynn dressed Caspian in a dark red coat, very similar to one that his father often wears when addressing the nation outside. Soarynn went with a cream-colored coat today, a brave choice while watching three children but she felt it made her look sophisticated. She'd taken off her gloves to hold Caspian better but she was beginning to regret her decision.

If only Caspian enjoyed the snow more. He liked it for about...two minutes. Then he was tugging at her pant leg, asking to be held which she happily obliged to. "Can we go inside can we have hot chocolate?" Ceraphina's question causes Soarynn's stomach to grumble in agreement, "Yes," she answers, "hot chocolate sounds delightful." It really does and then she could put Caspian down for a nap right after.

She had worried that the attack might've had severe psychological effects on the children but they glazed right over it. After losing their mother, perhaps nothing phased them anymore.

It certainly affected her but she was doing a good job at pretending like it didn't.

And she'd keep acting that way until she forgot how it felt to be thrown around, treated like she was nothing. She knew she wasn't nothing, she was just the nanny.

꧁ ꧂

"Does it hurt when I press down?"

Soarynn looks up at the ceiling while the doctor applies a slight pressure to her nose, it doesn't hurt anymore which is a relief. She had worried that her injury might have led to something more severe like a ruptured sinus or a disfigured nose.

"No, it doesn't," she answers.

The doctor hums, pulling his hand away from her face, "Good, it's almost back to normal. By the end of the week, you'll be good as new." Soarynn forces a polite smile onto her lips, fighting the urge to ask if he can prescribe anything to fix the damage that has been done to her on the inside, not the outside.

"Now, let's check on your eye. You haven't been experiencing any vision problems since I last saw you correct?" Soarynn shakes her head while carding a hand through her hair, "No, my vision hasn't been affected by the bruising."

The doctor pulls a tool out of his bag that shines a bright light on her face, "Keep your eye open," he instructs, "I just want to make sure the cornea is still intact." Soarynn has no idea what any of that means but she does as she's told and holds still, even though she can feel her eye beginning to water from the bright light.

Finally, he pulls away from her face and she lets out a breath of relief, "All is well then?" She asks, watching him pack up his things after scribbling down some notes. She wonders if he gives these reports to Coriolanus. He probably does. Nothing happens under his roof without him knowing about it.

"Yes," he confirms with a smile, "you seem to be right on track to a healthy recovery. Just remember, if your eye begins to bother you, use a hot and cold compress and have President Snow give me a call."

"Thank you doctor."

Soarynn watches the man walk out of her bedroom, leaving the doors slightly ajar and she falls back onto her bed, sighing loudly. She's been so tired lately, she hasn't been sleeping well since they got back home. She wonders if this might be some sort of post-traumatic disorder. Maybe she should've mentioned it to the doctor, or has he already noticed and told Coriolanus?

She certainly hasn't been slacking when it comes to her job as a nanny but she knows herself well enough to know that eventually, this will all catch up to her.

Maybe she can get some sleep now that the doctor's gone. She already put the children to bed. Sleep sounds good. Her eyes slowly drift shut and she focuses on breathing in and out, in, and out, in and… "Soarynn? Coriolanus wants to speak with you dear."

Soarynn rolls over to her stomach and groans into the mattress before pushing herself back up, "I'm coming," she calls back, not wanting Eudora to come in and find her like this, sulking and moping about. She slides off the bed, hoping she doesn't look as miserable as she feels before yanking open the doors, "Did he say what he wanted to talk to me about?"

Eudora shakes her head, waving for Soarynn to follow her, "I imagine it'll have something to do with the attack," she muses, leading them to the back staircase, "he's been working on interrogating all the Rebels who took you and the children hostage. You might need to identify some of the men who escaped."

Soarynn's mind immediately goes to Marvin who managed to slip off the boat and swim away unscathed. His friends couldn't say the same. But did they catch him?

"Soarynn?"

Soarynn blinks several times, pulled from her frequent thoughts of District Four, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Eudora gives her a concerned look from over her shoulder as they make their way down the hallway, "I asked how everything went with the doctor. Did he say anything?"

Soarynn shakes her head, "No, nothing major to report. My nose and eye should be back to normal by the end of the week."

Eudora lets out a sigh of relief, "Well that's good to hear. It'd be a shame if those brutes managed to mark up your pretty face permanently." Soarynn merely hums in reply, both women coming to a stop in front of the ominous doors that lead to Coriolanus Snow's study.

"I'll be in my room should you need anything," Eudora tells her.

Soarynn nods and watches Eudora walk back down the hallway, she's been staying in her honorary bedroom since the attack, swarmed with paperwork and reports to sort through for Coriolanus.

Soarynn gently knocks on the doors, her gut feels like it's been twisted into a knot. "Come in," he calls from the other side.

Soarynn quietly opens the doors, closing them behind her. It's dark in his study, only the fireplace and a few lamps providing him with light as he works.

She slowly approaches his desk, unsure of how to conduct herself with her boss behind closed doors after the last time they were alone together. Coriolanus remains focused on his work, not even sparing her a glance when she sits down. Soarynn absentmindedly drums her fingers against the armrests of the chair, looking up at the ceiling and the carvings that look down on her.

"Your nose looks better."

Soarynn looks back down and across the desk at Coriolanus who sits back in his chair, pen in hand but his attention is now on her, "And your eye," he adds. Soarynn is now hyperaware of her appearance, she had taken off her makeup per the doctor's request and she had planned on trying to sleep right after he left which means she's barefaced once again.

"The doctor said I should be healed up by the end of the week."

"I know," he answers, his blue eyes scanning her face, "he also said that you haven't been getting enough sleep."

Soarynn tenses in her seat, "I never said I wasn't getting enough sleep."

His lips curl up into a smirk and he tilts his head, looking very handsome while doing so, "You don't need to tell him anything. He's a practiced man and he's been staring into your eye for the past few days, he can tell when someone hasn't been getting enough rest. Not to mention it's clear as day to the rest of us."

Soarynn frowns, she's been doing a good job at acting like everything is fine but maybe she hasn't been doing as good as she thought. "I'm fine," she insists, mimicking his relaxed body language, "Eudora said you might ask me about identifying our kidnappers."

Her attempt to switch topics has its intended effect and he drops his smirk and leans forward, adopting the stern persona she's more than used to dealing with by now. "Yes," he shuffles through some papers on his desk, "we apprehended everyone on the beach that wasn't shot on sight but we need you to confirm a few of these Rebels before we proceed."

He slides a file toward her and Soarynn tentatively reaches for it, opening it up to find Marvin's face staring up at her, "This is Marvin," she murmurs, flipping to the next page, finding the face of the man who was shot while trying to jump off looking up at her as well. "And this man was trying to escape," she brings her fingers up to her mouth, remembering how the blood tasted, "I...I saw him get shot. But he's dead now."

She flips through the remainder of the pages but finds no more familiar faces, "Those are the only two I came in contact with," she tells him, placing the file back on the desk, "what will happen to them?"

Coriolanus folds his hands, "I thought about turning them into Avoxes," Soarynn swallows at the casual threat, "but that was too merciful. They'll be executed along with the rest of the Rebels later this week and we'll televise the aftermath to deter any other Districts from trying anything before the year is up."

She sits back in her chair, he says it so casually as if talking about what they'll have for breakfast tomorrow.

"Do you think I should do something else to punish these men?"

Her eyes widen at his question, Soarynn could never conjure up such a punishment, her mind wouldn't allow it. "They said they wanted you to stop the Hunger Games," she recalls, watching his face carefully, "but I guess you won't be doing that."

Coriolanus shakes his head, "I won't be doing that," he confirms, "it's my job to keep the Hunger Games alive."

What a horrible job to have.

"Okay," she says softly, "I trust you to make the right decision."

They both stare at each other for a moment, blue meeting blue-gray. It's like two different oceans crashing against each other. Sometimes, she feels so close to him, other times, she wonders if they're living on the same planet. They've gotten closer but they're still so far away.

Like December and January, so close yet so far.

"How's Petunia doing?"

Soarynn didn't expect him to ask her that, but it gets her mind off of things and she appreciates that, "She's happy to be back in my presence," she says, remembering how excited Petunia had been when Sejanus dropped her off. The girls had been more excited than Soarynn, hugging and kissing Petunia.

Coriolanus hums, "That's good. The stables are done being built."

Soarynn perks up at the good news, "Oh the children will be so excited."

Soarynn had forgotten all about their little agreement to get the children a horse or two to ride and take care of but it’s sure to be a hit. She wonders if each of the children should have their own horse or if just one would be better suited for them at their age. It would certainly teach them to share better.

While Caspian doesn't mind sharing, his sisters certainly do which is rather ironic since they have everything they could possibly need.

Coriolanus studies her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her lips for far too long, "I thought we might discuss what happened on the train," he finally says. Soarynn's breath hitches in her throat, is this when he fires her again? She definitely put her own feelings before the children's. Maybe that kiss was a test and she miserably failed.

"Oh," is all she has to say, her cheeks burning with shame. Coriolanis sighs, running his fingers through his trussed curls. They always look so pristine at breakfast, perfectly styled for another day of work but by the end of the day, they look softer, he looks softer.

"I think we can both agree that emotions were running high," he says and Soarynn nods, there were a lot of emotions on that train, "and we've been dancing around the most pressing topic since we got back," he continues. Soarynn sits up straighter, preparing herself to be fired once again except this time, he has proof. He was there.

His lips on her lips.

"Are you going to fire me?"

Coriolanus looks taken aback at her question, his eyebrows furrowing, "Fire you?"

Soarynn nods, her head hanging in shame, "I crossed a line," she tells him, "the children are the most important thing to me and I let my emotions rule over my decisions."

Coriolanus looks absolutely dumbfounded, so completely and utterly lost. "Soarynn, I'm not going to fire you." She lifts her head, staring into his gorgeous eyes, he truly is a handsome man. "You're not?"

Coriolanus shakes his head and a small smile grows on his lips, "I think the girls might actually kill me if you left again. And I simply wanted to talk about the change in our dynamic." Now Soarynn is the one who looks confused.

"Our dynamic?" She repeats, puzzled by his words. Their dynamic is crystal clear to her. She's the nanny, he's the President of Panem. Simple enough.

"I haven't kissed another woman since Livia," he admits, scratching the back of his neck, "I haven't even looked at another woman since Livia, and yet the second you stepped foot into this house, I haven't been able to entirely focus on my job."

Looks like we're in the same boat, she thinks but she just nods at him to keep going. Coriolanus sighs, "These things can be tricky, I have an insurmountable amount of pressure on me to always be the perfect leader, the perfect boss, the perfect father, but being the perfect partner is something I've always failed at."

"No one is perfect," she tells him softly, "it's impossible to be perfect. Someone will always feel as though you're not doing enough."

That seems to hit him hard as he leans back in his seat, deep in thought. "I enjoyed it," he finally says, looking across at her, "I enjoyed kissing you, holding you. I enjoy being in your presence even though I can tell that you're always on edge around me." He smirks and Soarynn immediately feels flustered and called out.

"Well, well you're the President," she argues, "and my boss. It's natural for me to have a certain degree of nerves. A healthy fear if you will." His smirk drops and Soarynn's heart along with it. Did she say something wrong?

"I've always said that it's better to be feared than loved," he tells her, "when people love you and you love them, they aren't afraid to push back. If people fear you, then they won't risk any pushback. It's the things we love most that destroy us."

Soarynn knows all about that. She loved her father with all her heart and his death absolutely destroyed her. Coriolanus loves his children with all his heart and people took them away from him, used them as leverage against him. But they used her too, which leads her to wonder how he felt about that.

"I don't want you to fear me Soarynn."

Maybe this attack left scars on him too, only on the inside but scars nonetheless. And maybe she'll be allowed to see them someday.

"You want me to love you?"

A pained look crosses his face, a look she's all too familiar with, the look of remembering what once was, what he used to have with another woman that wasn't her. Livia has left scars all over his body.

"I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone outside of my children," he admits, "but, I do think I'm capable of opening up again."

Soarynn can feel her heart beating so fast. It feels so hot in this room all of a sudden. So suffocating.

"Okay," is all she says.

Coriolanus holds out his hand, beckoning her to come over to him, "Come here," he says, calmly and quietly. Soarynn is shaking as she pushes herself from her chair. This is so different from the train. Their dynamic is different. She's dressed differently.

Still, she walks around the desk.

She's never been on this side of his desk but she bets he feels so powerful sitting behind it. He looks powerful now, with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his legs spread as he turns to face her. She places her hand in his and he wraps his fingers around it, gently pulling her towards him until she's standing in between his legs.

Coriolanus takes his other hand and rests it on her bare thigh, causing Soarynn to draw in a shaky breath. She's never done any of this. Will he teach her or will he expected her to know how things are done in the bedroom? They're not even in a bedroom right now. They're in his study like she's some sweet little secret he doesn't want to get out.

His hand slides up further and further under her nightgown and stops when he reaches her inner thigh, inches away from her covered core. He looks up at her with those blue eyes, clouded with lust and desire. He tugs her forward and she gasps, within one swift motion, she's seated in his lap, essentially straddling him.

His lips are crashing against hers within seconds.

Coriolanus slides both hands under her nightgown, grabbing her waist and he groans. Soarynn whimpers when his teeth gently tug at her bottom lip, this is all so new to her, so new and overwhelming. He is overwhelming. All she can smell is roses.

She doesn't know what to do with her hands so she rests them on his broad shoulders, he feels so strong.

One of his hands slides down her back, resting on her ass and squeezing it. Soarynn moans into the kiss, and goosebumps cover her skin. He pulls away from the kiss only to start kissing up and down her jaw, pressing kisses on her neck as well. Soarynn sighs, staring up at the ceiling again, wondering if this is how all their encounters will go from now on. Secret and rushed.

His other hand leaves her waist, sliding out from under her nightgown to grab her throat. He applies a slight pressure to the sides of her neck and Soarynn gasps, her head feels hazy, her breaths are shortened and she's panicking.

She's remembering.

Remembering what those men said about her. How good she'd feel. How she's the President's whore.

Whore. Slut. The President's little plaything.

Her vision is growing spotty and his lips are getting more aggressive. Soarynn can feel his fingers sliding under the waistband of her panties. She tries to buck his hand off but he must think that she's into this, into him.

"Good girl," he praises, sucking on the tender skin under her ear.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut and uses all the strength in her body to shove him back. "Stop," she gasps, opening her eyes again, "stop, please stop." His hands disappear from her body instantly but she still feels like she's being choked, being touched. Touched by them, by those men who talked about fucking her while she was tied up.

Soarynn gasps for air, tears burn in her eyes.

"Soarynn," he starts, his eyes filled with concern and confusion but she's already shaking her head, already trying to get off of his lap.

Everything is so fuzzy and she ends up falling backward onto the floor. Pain shoots through her body but the adrenaline takes over and she pushes herself onto her feet, "I'm sorry," she whispers, shame flooding her voice, "I...I can't."

She rests a hand on the edge of his desk as she walks around it, ignoring his calls for her. She stumbles towards the doors, opening them and welcoming the fresh air.

"Soarynn," he calls again.

She ignores him.

She ignores everything while walking back down the hallway, a million terrible thoughts racing through her mind. She manages to make it to the back staircase and she leans against the banister for a second, catching her breath.

She can still feel his hands on her body and she hates it.

Soarynn grabs onto the railing and pulls herself onto the stairs, making her way up them at a pathetic rate. When she reaches the top, she's out of breath. She wonders what he's thinking, if he's following her, or if he's really going to fire her now that she's truly lost it.

Tears begin to stream down Soarynn's face but she keeps walking, desperate to go to her room and sleep all of this away. She walks past Ceraphina's room and chokes back a sob, she can't believe she made such a foolish risk like that when the children are her main priority.

How could she be so stupid?

When she finally gets to her own room, she slams the doors closed behind her, sinking down onto the floor. Soarynn pulls her knees up to her chest and allows herself to properly cry. Would this all be different if her father hadn't died? If Livia hadn't died? Are they both watching her run around with the President of Panem like she's living in some delusional fairy tale?

Her entire frame trembles as she cries, her gasps echo throughout her room. She's so tired, so exhausted both mentally and physically. When does it all end? The anxiety, the unknown, the battle between her heart and her head?

A soft purring momentarily distracts her from the world falling apart and she looks up from her spot on the floor to find Petunia staring up at her, those eyes identical to her own filled with unending devotion in a world full of conditions. "Oh Petunia," she whispers, "I ruined everything." More tears threaten to spill down her cheeks but Soarynn forces them back.

Coriolanus was right about one thing.

She's not getting enough sleep and she's exhausted. She knows that the lack of sleep isn't doing her or her emotions any favors. "Let's go to bed," she mumbles, reaching out for her loyal feline. Petunia allows her to scoop her up and Soarynn slowly stands to her feet, more stable now that she's had a proper breakdown. She doesn't even get under the covers, she just flops onto the bed and finally, finally gives into sleep.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn wakes up she can hear birds chirping accompanied by the sound of a small person breathing beside her.

She cracks one eye open and finds Celeste watching her intently. "Good morning," she whispers causing Soarynn to smile, she probably looks rough right now but Celeste isn't one to comment on one's outward appearance. That's her sister's specialty.

"Good morning darling," she replies, reaching out to rest a loving hand on her cheek. Celeste leans into her touch and her eyes hold worry and fear, "Daddy said you were sick so you couldn't come to breakfast, are you really sick?" Soarynn swallows, she must've slept through her alarm which means Coriolanus thinks she's avoiding him.

Which she is but that's a hard thing to do in his own house.

At least he came up with a good lie to cover up her absence. She feels bad though, missing breakfast means that either Coriolanus or Eudora had to wake the children up. "I'm not feeling my best," she answers truthfully, sitting up slowly, "but I don't think I'm sick."

Celeste lets out a sigh of relief and nods, "Okay good, I don't want you to get sick like Mommy did."

Soarynn feels her heart break into a million pieces.

She can't imagine the fear and anxiety that the children must deal with whenever the adults in their lives get sick or injured. The slightest cough must send them over the edge and here she is, sleeping through breakfast because she can't handle a bit of intimacy.

Get it together, she chides herself while patting the spot on the bed next to her, "Come sit darling." Celeste smiles at the opportunity to get into someone else's bed and attempts to jump onto the bed but she's still too little so Soarynn swoops her up, making her giggle. "Who woke you up?" Soarynn asks, running a hand through Celeste's curls. She's still dressed in her pajamas which means it's still early in the morning.

Celeste cuddles against her, "Eudora did. Then Daddy let me try some of his coffee but but was so yucky Soarynn." She grins at a very true statement, Soarynn has never been too fond of coffee even though it always smells delicious. Her father would always drink it at breakfast. He'd read the paper while they spent their mornings together, Soarynn preparing for school and her father preparing for work.

She misses those moments.

"At least you tried it," Soarynn tells her, "it's important to try new things." Celeste hums, playing with the hem of Soarynn's nightgown, "Can we go to the park today?" Soarynn wishes they could, the children are beginning to grow stir crazy and she can't really blame them. "Once my eye and nose look better then we can go," she tells Celeste who looks up at her face to assess the damage. "I'm sorry we couldn't help you," she says quietly, her eyes dropping back down.

Soarynn frowns, has Celeste been carrying around this guilt the entire time? And Ceraphina for that matter? Heaven knows what Caspian has been thinking about since they got back home.

Soarynn insistently shakes her head, quick to deter any of these terrible thoughts, "You all were a great help to me, darling. You kept me calm and you helped me when I fell. And most importantly, you listened to me. You all trusted me and I...I," Soarynn feels herself getting choked up but for different reasons this time, "I love you all very much. I can't imagine a world without you children in it."

Celeste's own face reflects the same feeling of endearment, her eyes look so much like his, and yet Soarynn knows exactly where her heart lies.

Coriolanus Snow might be a mystery to her but his children never are.

꧁ ꧂

Later that day, Soarynn finds herself at the Capitol Stables.

This is the last place she expected to be but according to Eudora, Coriolanus wants Soarynn to select the perfect horse for the children. She still hasn't seen Coriolanus since last night but she's perfectly fine with that.

"Did you ever go to the races?" Sejanus Plinth's question pulls her from her faraway thoughts about Coriolanus Snow and back into the present where they're strolling through the Stables, looking at all the horses in their stalls.

"I did," she answers, "my father loved watching the races and I loved the horses." Horse racing is a well-practiced sport in the Capitol, known for its wealthy spectators and expensive bets placed on the horses. During the off-season the Stables are open for people to visit the horses and even purchase one of their own should they choose to do so.

Soarynn has been the arena where the races take place but never the Stables, not until now that is. She didn't know what to expect and since Eudora would be watching the children, she had invited Sejanus to accompany her. She felt safer with someone beside her, and Sejanus had taken such great care of Petunia while they were gone.

Sejanus nods, "They're beautiful creatures," he agrees, "how was District Four by the way?" Soarynn pales a bit at his question, but she recovers smoothly, "It was cold," she answers, "but beautiful. The ocean is a force to be reckoned with."

They stop at one of the stalls where a spotted horse sticks its head out to greet them, "Oh, aren't you a pretty thing?" Soarynn asks, reaching out to scratch its head. They both chuckle when the horse leans out further, just like Petunia asking for pets. "Is there a specific color you're after?" Sejanus asks, resting a hand on its neck. Soarynn purses her lips, she wasn't given any specific instructions as to what to look for but she can imagine that Coriolanus would want something that screams 'The Snow Family.'

"Something white," she decides, giving the horse a pat farewell, "Coriolanus would like that."

Sejanus grins, "First name basis huh?" Her cheeks burn pink as she starts walking again, "You're not funny you know," she says, quickening her pace, "and he insisted that I be on a first-name basis with him." She slows her pace when she comes across a beautiful horse, all white, "Hello there," she greets, gripping the stall door. Sejanus comes up next to her, looking the horse up and down, "I'd say he matches your description, and as for Coriolanus, I'm simply surprised that he insisted. He's been so closed off since Livia."

Soarynn hums, watching the horse slowly walk up to them, its tail flicking behind it, "I know," she murmurs, "and I barely even speak to him as it is. We're both far too busy with our jobs." Lies, lies, lies.

Sejanus looks like he doesn't believe her but she chooses to ignore it. She's been choosing to ignore a lot of things lately.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn comes back from the Stables, all three of the Snow children rush to greet her. She must admit, it was nice to leave for a while, see the city again. Eudora had instructed her to apply a liberal amount of makeup to cover up any bruising or swelling and since Sejanus hadn't commented on any of it, she must've done a good job.

"You're back!" Ceraphina says, throwing her arms around Soarynn's legs. Soarynn almost tumbles back but Sejanus prevents that from happening, quickly steadying her, "Where are my hugs huh?" He teases, earning him more excited gasps. The children see Soarynn every day, Sejanus is a rare treat when it comes to visitors.

While Celeste and Ceraphina flock around Sejanus asking him all sorts of questions, Caspian slowly but surely toddles over to Soarynn, holding his hands out for balance. Soarynn grins at the sweet sight, "Come here sweet boy," she croons, bending down to pick him up. She sometimes finds it hard to believe that such a sweet child can exist in a world like this, that evil men had no issue holding up a gun to his head.

It makes her feel even worse about what happened last night.

A week ago she was fearing for her life and now she's having sexual relations with their father. What the hell is wrong with her?

He's probably stressed, she tells herself while watching the girls interact with Sejanus, he just needed to blow off some steam, this'll all blow over by the end of the week.

And it will. She'll work up the courage to talk to Coriolanus about all of this, get their relationship back on a professional track, and move forward.

Simple as that.

"Are you coming to the party Sejanus?" Ceraphina's question reminds Soarynn about the party that they'll be throwing at the end of the year. She's a bit surprised that Coriolanus is still going through with it but at the same time, she understands his need for normalcy and moving forward. If you dwindle in the past for too long, you're bound to be left behind.

And Soarynn refuses to be left behind.

"I am," Sejanus confirms with a nod of his head, "I can't wait to see you two tear it up on the dance floor again." The girls giggle at the memory of the last party they had but it only brings up more sour memories for Soarynn who only remembers how the night ended for her.

She presses a kiss to Caspian's blonde hair, if he hadn't spoken up for her, she might not be in this position right now.

She just doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing.

꧁ ꧂

"Coriolanus, I wanted to discuss what our professional relationship has turned into. We're both adults and I would never want to jeopardize my job for the sake of physical intimacy."

Soarynn nods at her reflection in the mirror, "Just say that and you'll be fine," she mumbles, raking her fingers through her hair. The children are finally asleep and she's getting nervous. She could just go to bed, and pretend nothing happened last night but that would be childish, not to mention highly unprofessional.

As if kissing him while straddling him isn't considered unprofessional.

Still, one must make necessary strides toward things that are important to them. And keeping her job and not abandoning her children is very important to her.

Soarynn takes a few deep breaths before she feels prepared to face him. But it’ll feel like a long walk to his study. That’s fine, she can think about her stupid mentions and their consequences on the way down the hall.

Soarynn quietly opens her doors so she doesn’t somehow wake the children and can’t hide her look of surprise when she sees an Avox waiting outside of her bedroom. The Snows only hire Avoxes to do things such as cleaning and waiting on them so that no private information can be spread.

Soarynn has often shuddered at the thought of losing her tongue. How would she sing and laugh?

She swallows, taking a step back when the placid faced Avox moves towards her, holding out something in their hand. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s a letter. A letter that looks identical to the one she had waiting for her in her closet when she first moved in.

Soarynn takes the letter.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, only getting a silent nod in reply. Well, she can’t expect much.

She closes the doors behind her, the original mission long forgotten as she tears open the letter, breaking the seal with a rose embossed on it.

Her fingers shake as she unfolds the perfectly folded paper.

Soarynn,

You won’t find me in my study tonight, some work related issues have been brought to my attention and as you know, I intend to solve every problem sent my way. As for the growing problem between us, allow me to offer my deepest apologies for any pain I might have caused you. If I moved too fast or hurt you in any way please know that was never my intention.

Despite the internal struggles within our complex relationship, I still find myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

You’ll find me to be a terribly possessive man who doesn’t back down from a fight easily. Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll know where to find me. Until then, sleep well and look after my children for me.

Yours truly, Coriolanus

Soarynn nearly crumples the letter in her hands. How is it possible for a man to make her feel so many things at once?

He knows what he’s doing, she’ll give him that. But why her? There’s a part of her that still worries this might just be a ploy to get into her pants. The other part, the optimistic part, thinks and hopes that this might be more. That Coriolanus might see her as an equal, as someone to cherish and spend time with.

She just wishes she could figure out which one she’d prefer.

But after reading that letter, it seems she has no choice but to play his little game. It’s fine, she tells herself, thinking about those men who were so easily sniped from the shore, those men whose lives were so easily discarded by Coriolanus.

There are much worse games to play.

| Part 8. |

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꧁| tag list: @lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead |꧂

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miffy-junot · 1 day ago

Text

Was Junot bisexual?

So first of all big thanks to @saintjustitude for his posts on male homosocial relationships during the French Revolution, very informative and brought some old thoughts back into my mind!

"Was Junot bisexual?" is the simplest way to phrase this question, although obviously not the best. Bisexuality is a recent concept, views of sexuality in the time when Junot lived were very different. A lot of people had same-sex relationships that went beyond the boundaries of regular friendships, but weren't full-fledged romantic partnerships either. I would like to explore the possibility that Junot may have had romantic feelings for men, but these feelings would not fit exactly within the categories of today.

This post is just speculation, not serious history, so keep that in mind :)

Junot was, very conspicuously, attracted to women - his many affairs are proof of that. As for men, most of his male friendships seem to be completely platonic, with the exception of his relationship with Napoleon. His letters to his friends are concise and jovial; his letters to Napoleon are rapturous and poetic, more in the style he used when writing to women. His behaviour with his friends was easygoing; his behaviour with Napoleon was obsessive. Of course many men of the era adored the Emperor, but Junot's adoration is quite different, firstly because he had behaved this way long before Napoleon was successful, and secondly for reasons I will explain below. (Contrary to popular belief, Junot was indeed capable of being discreet with his affairs. It's possible that he had obsessive attachments towards other men as well, but his relationship with Napoleon is the only one that is relatively well-documented.)

In the late 18th century neoclassicism flourished, and for some social circles this also included a revival of interest in ancient Greco-Roman relationships. Particularly, the ancient convention of an older man having an intimate relationship with a younger man. When they first met in 1793, Napoleon and Junot were both allied with the Jacobin political party, which often associated itself with neoclassical ideals; and both of these young men had an interest in classics. (fun fact: they both liked the Iliad, and Junot kept a very expensive rare edition of it in his private library!) And in many ways their early friendship did resemble the Greco-Roman older man/younger man relationship: although their age gap was only two years, there was a big gap in maturity. Napoleon was contemplative and morose, he had dealt with responsibilities beyond his years since the death of his father, he had to provide for his mother and siblings; meanwhile Junot was known to be carefree and childish, he hadn't known much hardship, he had little responsibility within his family. And so this difference in maturity exaggerated their difference in age and Napoleon took on the role of a mentor towards Junot. It is not unfeasible, then, to think that Junot might have romanticised the classical parallels of this friendship. (Indeed, later on the Egyptian campaign there were rumours in the army comparing Napoleon and Junot to Hadrian and Antinous - a Roman emperor and his young male lover.)

In 1794 Napoleon got in big trouble for his connection to Robespierre, and effectively became jobless, homeless and penniless. It was within Junot's right, as the aide-de-camp to this former general, to transfer to the service of another man or another part of the army. But instead, not only did he stay with Napoleon, but he provided for him by renting a room in Paris using the money his bourgeois parents sent him every month. Junot was always very loyal to his friends, but the devotion he showed to Napoleon at this time is beyond anything he ever did for any other man. And living in close quarters, in cheap accommodation with very little privacy, a sort of intimacy developed that Junot could never let go of.

In Egypt Junot challenged another officer to a duel for insulting Napoleon's honour. Of course it was common to have ardent devotion to your general, but Junot's behaviour resembles more that of a chivalric man who fights over the honour of a woman. And when Junot finally returned to France, Napoleon lavished all sorts of favours on him - large sums of money, a house, the cost of Junot's wedding, expensive wedding gifts, the position of Governor of Paris. For lack of a better way to phrase it, Napoleon behaved like Junot's sugar daddy. Would it be so unreasonable to suspect that this special friendship may have kindled more passionate feelings in Junot's heart?

And then, when Junot got shouted at by Napoleon for defending republicanism, he got so distressed that he became seriously ill. This pattern is repeated throughout Junot's life: although he was comfortable with teasing from friends and cared little for the rude gossip spread about him, whenever Napoleon criticised him Junot would suffer greatly, not only emotionally but physically.

The ways that Junot referred to Napoleon, as a father or as God, suggest a deep admiration perhaps beyond friendship. These were ways of expressing a great amount of love without using language that would transgress friendship too much. And of course Junot's final letter to Napoleon - "I who love you with the affection of a savage for the sun, I am who am entirely yours!" - conveys a strong feeling that could very much be interpreted as romantic attachment. (Imagine if that letter was sent from a woman to a man, how would you see it then?)

"Was Junot bisexual?" is a question very much up to audience interpretation. I'm not saying him and Napoleon had sex, I'm not saying they even kissed, but I do think it should at least be treated as a valid possibility that Junot may have loved Napoleon romantically.

(Besides, out of the thousands of men in Napoleon's army, is it so insane to think that one of them, particularly one who deviated from the norm in many ways, might not have been straight?)

#jean andoche junot #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #napoleonic era #just my ramblings lol

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lafaiette · 2 days ago

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Also, can we talk about magic? i suppose they wanted to make the game more luring to new players, but magic used to be rare, closed under the lock and feared. Mages were feared and cosidered dangerous. Tevinter was an execption, not a general rule. How come people forgot only ten years ealier there was a regular war between mages and chantry, the very reason Inquisition was formed? Why is there magic, anciet elven magic behin every corner? It feels like reboot.

"It feels like reboot"

Because it is a reboot 💀 Or at least, it's the first step towards one.

Explaining how magic is seen in Thedas, all the different opinions and fears and hopes people have about it, would have been impossible in a single game clearly aimed at luring new players in. They put all the major pieces of explanation in the codex (one part of it is filled and complete since from the start of the game, because it's basically a catalogue detailing everything about Thedas), and let you play as a mage to your heart's content, with no strings, no responsibilities attached.

They tried to preserve some logic in Minrathous - there's mention of how Tevinter's families try to breed the perfect mages to rise in power and influence, so that's good. But you also see a "Noble" mingling with a "Civilian" among the fishermen, and telling her she shouldn't waste time and money on making things better for the poor people. What the hell is she doing there, then? Why isn't she in Minrathous proper, drinking wine and looking down on the poor districts?

Just around every corner, a few feet away from the closest tavern, Venatori are constantly putting up blood magic barriers. The same in the Necropolis, with the Venatori making camp just one door behind the main hub where the Mourn Watch is stationed. Everyone performs rituals, the Circles are barely mentioned, a Forbidden One is hiding behind a door in the Necropolis' main hall and no one ever noticed it before, not even Emmrich.

Statues of Fen'Harel and the Evanuris, elven relics and elven contraptions are hidden everywhere - everywhere. To show how vast and influential the elven empire was? That was probably the devs' intent. Does it always make sense? No. Is it for gameplay purposes, to fill the map with puzzles and stuff to find like in the 2000s? Obviously.

In Inquisition, there was an entire area of the Hinterlands ravaged by the Templars and rebel mages. The refugees were scared of walking the roads to find food because there was wild magic flying around. Rabid templars crazy on lyrium roamed the woods, and the Chantry was powerless.

Elven ruins were scattered around with sense, with a purpose, barely visible among the vegetation, forgotten and avoided, or almost forced to fuse with Chantry's buildings (just look at the Emerald Graves). There was a logic behind the NPCs' and props' locations in the world.

Here, there is simply no logic or consequence to anything ever. The Black Divine is never addressed, as far as I remember. Dalish clans have lost any distinction - the only elven faction you meet is that of the Veil Jumpers, which is a weird cocktail of elves who all know how bad the Evanuris are and random humans and Qunari. Yes, there are humans being allowed to guard ancient elven artifacts in a Dragon Age game. No, they are not called shem. Yes, they all get along swimmingly.

The Crows are not slavers and dangerous figures anymore - they're actually the heroes of Treviso! They treat their fledgling Crows with care and respect, no torture involved. Where did you hear such a preposterous idea? Zevran? Who's Zevran?

Taash says the Qun isn't a prison. How is that possible? They sent assassins after Bull when he defected. They hunt Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth if they dare leave, and if a sten loses his sword, he cannot return home, because his brethren would kill him, as "to a Qunari warrior, the sword is the soul."

So yeah, this was definitely supposed to be a reboot for Dragon Age, just like Andromeda was supposed to be one for Mass Effect. That's why everything falls flat.

#da:tv spoilers #dragon age spoilers #da:tv critical #sorry for being negative but heh #i had hopes for this game #despite the original developers leaving the team during the years #and the terrible marketing campaign #i really trusted bioware into giving us one last love letter #instead they were (probably) forced to go where the most money is #also to justify all the resources and time wasted #it's absolutely fine if you love the game!! good for you!!#enjoy it and have fun it's what games are for!#but please don't be blind to its faults #because it's clearly not a love letter to the fans as they claimed #and we have a saying here #“if you keep eating shit the waiter will keep bringing it to you”#so please don't treat bioware as the perfect company just because they added a photo mode or the hair looks fantastic #the game has glaring issues and not addressing them will only make bioware/ea keep making this kind of content #where everything is super safe and bleached to appeal to the biggest playerbase possible

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cjsmalley · 2 days ago

Text

The Potter-Weasley-Delacour Agreement:

“There will be some agreements to be dealt with,” Harry said, flicking his wand; a roll of parchment and an enchanted quill began floating between the three of them.

“Some concessions I want before I hand over my DNA,” Harry continued seriously, “some we can haggle on, some I will not be moved on.”

Bill and Fleur looked wary but nodded; Harry was known for his fairness and, if he agreed, would be doing them a massive favor. It made sense he would want something in return.

“First of all, you will name me her legal Godfather and will it so that if anything happens to your families, custody will go to me—”

“You are sure it will be a girl?” Fleur asked, surprised.

“Muggles have ways of deciding sex if science is involved,” Harry explained, “if you want a girl she will be—biologically—one. Whether she feels like one will be her decision. On that note, if she comes out as gay, bisexual, pansexual, or transgender and you kick her—or him—out I will house and love them as my own.”

Fleur smiled, “Most Veela are, how you say, bisexual. I will love my child no matter what they become.”

“Yeah, mate,” Bill nodded, “we’re alright there. But thank you for offering them a home.”

Harry nodded back, before continuing, “Speaking of home, you will swear to uphold any and all secrets you may learn about the Potters, Longbottoms, Fentons, or any other connected families.”

Bill and Fleur looked to each other worriedly, Bill allowing, “As long as it’s nothing too illegal.”

“It’s not illegal,” Harry assured, “but it is a secret for a reason. Ron, Hermione, and Luna are the only non-family that know our secrets. Them and Healer Gellar. You cannot talk about it to anyone else.”

“Is it dangerous to our child?” Fleur asked next.

Harry smiled warmly, “No, Fleur. Let’s just say if anything happens to her she’ll have a literal army for backup. That’s all I will say for now. But she’ll be one of the safest little girls in this world.”

“Alright.” Bill agreed for himself and his wife.

“Good. I’ll make some inquiries later then tell you the secret,” Harry told them, before continuing down his list of demands, “Next, I want her to be informed of her biological parentage by the age of her majority. I am not looking to replace Bill as her Dad, at most I will be Uncle Harry, but I feel she must be given all the information possible for her to make informed decisions about her life. I will also be releasing all medical information on the Potters as soon as she is viable. However, if she figures things out at an earlier age, I will not lie to her. You must be comfortable with this.”

Bill flexed his hand but nodded, “Sounds reasonable enough. And of course you can be her Uncle.”

“My next request, and this one is debatable,” Harry assured, “if Fleur decides to carry the pregnancy as normal; I am to be kept updated on its’ progress and viability. I will not ask to make decisions for you two, that’s between you and your healer or midwife or whatever. Though I do also request you use my Aunt Sam’s team of experts as she has both a muggle doctor and a magical midwife on staff.”

“Once you tell us the secret, we will decide on what midwife to use,” Fleur replied, before smiling, “but yes, we will keep you updated.”

“Another request is that I be present at the birth, not in the room,” Harry assured quickly, “but nearby, waiting with family. Again, I do not mean to intrude or overstep boundaries…”

“That is reasonable,” Fleur agreed.

“Another request is that you allow the Potter family to be just as involved as the Weasleys and Delacours if we so wish. We will not be Dad or grandparents but—”

“You will still be family, Harry,” Bill smiled, “of course your parents can be in her life. In fact, all your family can be.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, “It’s part of the secret but I have a lot of cousins—that treat me and Nev as their brothers. My family also includes a werewolf—”

“Remus is a wonderful man,” Bill declared firmly, “who we are happy to have around our child, provided he takes his Wolfsbane Potion as needed.”

Harry smiled, “Okay, good. You can change your mind after you know the secret but for right now, good. The next non-negotiable demand I have is that the Potters’ will put aside a trust fund for her, as will likely another branch of the family. We will pay for her schooling, whether that be at Hogwarts or Beauxbatons or Salem for all we care.”

“We can’t—” Bill began, still unsettled by what he saw as charity.

“You can and you will because—and this is my next non-negotiable demand—one, if not both, of you must quit their job as a Curse-Breaker. It’s too dangerous and I don’t want her orphaned. It’s already rendered Bill sterile. The Potters and another branch of my family will provide a stipend for any lost income. Once she is in school, you may resume your job as a Curse-Breaker; but I want her at least old enough to understand why Mummy and Daddy won’t be coming home if something horrid happens.”

Bill and Fleur held a whispered conversation in the Goblin language, fast and furious, before Bill said, “If we agree to that demand, you’ll promise to support the survivor if one of us dies?”

“Of course!”

“And if you must take custody,” Fleur said, “you will continue to allow contact with our families?”

“As long as there’s no abuse involved, of course,” Harry got a strange look on his face, “alright. I can tell you a secret about the Potters only—we, me and Dad and Grandma Euphemia, are Parselmouths.”

Bill went pale, “What?”

“What is a Parselmouth?” Fleur questioned worriedly at her husband’s reaction.

Harry rolled his eyes, “It means someone that can talk to snakes. It’s seen as a Dark talent in the British Isles. My grandmother was from India, where being a Parselmouth is seen as a good thing.”

“Slytherins are always Parselmouth—the family, not the Hogwarts House. You-Know-Who was a Parselmouth,” Bill further explained.

“We are very distantly related through all that Pureblood nonsense,” Harry admitted, “along with every other Pureblood family. Even the Weasleys are related to Ol’ Voldemort—oh, for Ancients’ sake Bill! It’s just a name and the Taboo is broken!”

Bill had flinched at the name Voldemort, “Sorry, sorry. Habit.”

“So there is a chance our daughter could speak to serpents,” Fleur nodded, “and you swear this is not a wholly Dark talent?”

“No more than being Veela makes you a mere Creature, Fleur,” Harry assured, causing her to nod again, “but if there is going to be a problem, Bill, then we should call this whole thing off.”

“You swear it’s good magic?” Bill questioned.

“It’s not good or evil, Bill. It’s just a talent for a language,” Harry shrugged, “like how Blacks tend to throw out metamorphagi and the Weasleys are good at fertility magic. Sure there’s been some bad actors with the talent but there’s been bad guys who speak English and French.”

Bill took a calming breath and nodded, “I’ll work on my prejudice then…if you and your Dad can do it it must not be all bad.”

Harry studied him but nodded curtly.

“You may be her godfather,” Fleur started, “and biological father but you will not give our daughter pets without our consent. Even a serpent.”

“Right,” Harry nodded again, “no pets without permission. I’ll promise I won’t give her pets but the rest of my family��one of my cousins is very into animals and animal welfare…”

Bill chuckled, “So we better be prepared for anything, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned before becoming serious, “speaking of anything, anything so far you object to or want? I’m open.”

“I would like you to attempt something,” Fleur spoke up, “your skill with enchantments is becoming legendary. If you could perhaps create something, a piece of jewelry perhaps, to combat her Allure…It may come in too early…when I was a teenager…” her face became haunted and Bill took her flexing, now clawed hand,

Harry nodded, already turning the problem over in his mind, “Yes, of course. Fleur, I swear if anything happens to our girl, we will get Justice.”

“The laws,” she argued, “A Veela’s Allure…it is a rapist’s defense…”

“Fleur…” Harry said calmly, gently though his green eyes blazed, “were you…?”

“No,” she denied, hesitating before explaining, “But my…other Veela have been. My cousins…and the man always walked free, having claimed he had no control. It is part of the reason we have asked you to father my child, Harry. You are immune to my Allure and do not desire me sexually. Between us it would truly be platonic…I want children but I do fear for them.”

Harry, very seriously, knelt before her and took her free hand in both of his and said, lowly, “Fleur, you have my word that if anything happens to any of your children, whether I father them or not, we will gain Justice. My family—no, not the Potters, though they’ll help—my extended family will make sure of that. But of course I will make something for their Allure. The extended family might have a few ideas.”

Fleur sobbed and hugged him tightly.

For the rest of the afternoon, they went over the rest of Harry’s conditions for donating; by nightfall, the three had come to the last agreement and parted ways.

Harry returned home, opened a portal, and stepped into the Realms.

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

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