#and hopefully i can host it again next year !!

[tinukis]

final day/luffy day is def gonna take awhile/maybe until my timezone midnight bc i have assignments to worry about and idk if i'll finish my second one but i'll Definitely finish luffy week 🫶

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks. 

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you. 

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home. 

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid. 

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately. 

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air. 

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,” 

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,” 

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“ 

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there. 

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much. 

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere. 

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,” 

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,” 

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,” 

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred. 

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more. 

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place. 

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed. 

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking. 

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up. 

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil. 

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,” 

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient. 

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,” 

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,” 

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,” 

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,” 

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart. 

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her. 

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,” 

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins. 

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return. 

“Yes, actually,” 

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,” 

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped. 

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,” 

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm. 

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same. 

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys. 

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,” 

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed. 

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen. 

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t. 

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,” 

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise. 

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,” 

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue. 

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it.  Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..” 

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses. 

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine. 

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here. 

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.” 

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles. 

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

 “Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed. 

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,” 

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,” 

“And look where that got me,” 

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours. 

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?” 

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,” 

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,” 

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,” 

“Stop saying that!” 

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,” 

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?” 

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?” 

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy. 

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft. 

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,” 

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden. 

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused. 

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat. 

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead. 

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake. 

“That was not the only way to do that,” 

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion. 

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!” 

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,” 

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher. 

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,” 

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear. 

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,” 

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know. 

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear. 

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,” 

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate. 

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over. 

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about? 

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard. 

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile. 

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,” 

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place. 

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,” 

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car. 

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener. 

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery. 

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her. 

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

                               You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans. 

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,” 

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,” 

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,” 

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?” 

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,” 

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent. 

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start. 

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized. 

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her. 

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both. 

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin. 

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day. 

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind. 

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator. 

Calla Lillies - Beauty. 

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly. 

“You back with me, babe?” 

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely. 

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,” 

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,” 

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation. 

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile. 

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you. 

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips. 

“She’s never reliable,” 

“She is literally compulsively on time,” 

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,” 

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother. 

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again. 

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,” 

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?” 

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,” 

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now. 

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours. 

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder. 

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin. 

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table. 

“So,” You started, chest tight. 

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could. 

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers. 

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last. 

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt. 

“So a win-win?” 

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it. 

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch. 

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,” 

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped. 

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening. 

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear. 

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough. 

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,” 

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped. 

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,” 

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching. 

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?” 

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good. 

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer. 

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy. 

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again. 

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls. 

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room. 

You were in a bed now. How had that happened? 

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on. 

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Would you like it?”

A nod. 

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures. 

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you. 

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust. 

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours. 

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere. 

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets. 

She loved you. 

You loved her. 

How perfect. 

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together. 

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel. 

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling. 

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her. 

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly. 

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you. 

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer. 

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob. 

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate. 

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat. 

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern. 

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,” 

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,” 

Liar. Her grin gave her away. 

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,” 

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride. 

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,” 

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time. 

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile. 

No more secrets. No more sadness. 

You were finally officially a Medarda.

[tanoraqui]

I keep cracking up thinking about Szeth and Nightblood spending these next ten years building a moral code together, both of them for the first time, in an endless series of conversations that a) looks like Szeth talking to nothing, and b) inevitably sounds like something out of a religious parable.

Szeth knelt beside the corpse of a sheep - or what remained of a corpse. Upon his inspection, it was mostly wool and bones, and drying blood. We will kill whoever did this, right? asked the black sword upon his back. Emi was good! Whatever killed her must be evil. "It was only a wolf, sword-nimi," Szeth replied. "But, yes. This is the third sheep this month. We must hunt it down and kill it, lest it destroy our hosts' whole flock one by one." Why does it matter if it was a wolf? Nightblood asked. It killed someone who was good. That is evil! "It was only doing what wolves do," said Szeth. He considered for a moment, to put word to that which most humans know instinctively. "Wolves cannot be evil, nor can sheep, for they are not intelligent enough to know the difference. They only react to their own instincts and desires - in this case, hunger. True evil requires knowledge of one's crime, or the capacity for such knowledge." Szeth, you said you weren't going to kill anyone anymore unless they were evil, Nightblood reminded him. You are not a tool! Again, the soldier-turned-shepherd gave this appropriate consideration. "No," he said at last, "but I am a person, willingly beholden to my hosts and my people. The laws of animals say that the strong and hungry shall consume the weak, as this wolf has done. But the laws of men- of righteous men, and righteous Singers, say that the strong shall protect the weak, and that a person has the right to defend their own livelihood and life. We, too, need mutton to live, and wool and milk. The sheep are, in this way, tools. The wolf is not evil for killing them, but nor is it good - it is only a wolf. And it threatens, in its hunger, those to whom I owe service twice over. So I shall kill it, and hopefully its fur will warm them as well as Emi's wool might have next spring."

[lotties-ashwagandha]

SPRING’S LOVE

(adult) lottie matthews x reader

you celebrate the coming of spring with lottie at the wellness center through the event she's hosting. based on this request that I got so long ago, I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner. most of the writing is over a year old but I finished the fic tonight, hopefully the switch isn’t too drastic.

A paradise in the middle of the wilderness, the wellness center glows under the light of the full moon. Fairy lights shine from the porches of the wood cabins accompanied by flower arrangements, the beauty accentuated by the reflection of the stars on the lake.

In the center of Camp Green Pine – surrounded by the lake, the main meditation building, and the Sharing Shack – most of the residents of the wellness center are gathered for a festival to celebrate the coming of spring. Sat in a chair a few feet from the bonfire, a man plays a lively tune on his guitar, supplying music to the event that has many inspired to dance. Young couples spin and dip and crash into one another, uncaring and unaware of anything the light of the bonfire can’t illuminate. The joy brought on by the festivities hangs like the smoke in the air.

You spy Lottie at the edge of the festivities, standing to gaze at the lake. She’s far enough from the crowd to feel separate from the celebration, yet still within enough range to be considered present as the host. You approach her – a chill runs through you as you step away from the warmth of the fire and the crowd, but it’s replaced by gentle love as you come into Lottie’s presence.

She turns when she sees you, offers you a tired smile. You know it’s taken her ages to plan all of this, to make it perfect. She’s content, but the work has left her drained.

You look back at the couples by the fire and then at her. “You’re not dancing,” you accuse, as if astounded. Lottie shakes her head.

“Nothing could make me dance right now,” she says decisively. She glances down at her shoes, white high heels that match the caftan she wears over a gold dress. Then she looks around for anyone in earshot, making sure no one’s paying attention when she begins to complain of the party. “I’ve had these heels on all day, and the fire took so long to start. All I really want is to go to bed.”

You take one of her hands, in search of any way to offer her peace. In a small way it seems to help – you see her become slightly more grounded in your connection.

“Are you enjoying all of this?” Lottie asks, and gestures around to the party. Her concern is genuine, you can tell she wants you to be enjoying yourself if she’s unable to have her own reward.

You hesitate. The celebrations are nice, but they’re nothing without Lottie to participate in them with. Her work is on display at every corner, the decorations she’s chosen and the fire she’s lit and the joy of the residents of the wellness center, but nothing can replace her presence.

You look back at the dancing couples. You ache with the desire to join them, and she notices, turning to look toward the fire.

“Everyone’s dancing,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Lottie hums in acknowledgment, shifting in her stance.

“We should join them,” you decide.

Lottie glances at you incredulously. “You want to dance by the fire? With me?”

“Why not?”

She sighs. “For one thing, I don’t have the shoes for it-”

“Then take them off.”

Lottie raises her eyebrows. “These are new heels. I bought them specifically for the event.”

“And they’re beautiful, but we live in a commune in the woods.”

It’s hard to deny. She steps out of her shoes. Lottie relaxes visibly, closing her eyes momentarily as she steps onto the soft grass, cool against the soles of her feet.

“Come on,” you gesture toward the fire. “You’ve put so much effort into tonight. You deserve to enjoy it.”

Decision comes to occupy her expression, and in the next moment she’s taking your hand again and leading you to the bonfire. The guests part for you as she passes, and everyone is careful to grant you space even as the reckless dancing continues around you.

Lottie places her hands on your hips, pulling you close to her as the two of you begin to dance. It’s slow, calm, guided by her — if you do this, it happens her way. You don’t mind. You don’t want something too fast paced that you can’t savor it — and you even savor it when Lottie steps the wrong way, onto your foot.

“Fuck,” she adjusts her stance, giving you an apologetic look, but it’s not lost on you that she’s resisting laughing at your momentary pain. “Sorry. It’s been a while.”

You shake your head, brushing away your discomfort. You much prefer the tranquility that encompasses her as she brings a hand up to your jaw, smiling softly and letting it slide down to your neck, then to rest atop your shoulder.

“You’re a good dancer,” she compliments, still leading you in a slow, measured pace.

“It’s only a matter of time before I step on your feet,” you promise.

“Then we would be even.”

You keep dancing, a part of the festivities at last, celebrating the coming of spring. A new year has dawned on you, seeds planted of love and tranquility promising to guide you as they grow.

sexy yellowjackets taglist: @webism @ahauandthesun @chaithetics @szczurkanalowy @marleymarleymarleymarley @aphrodyk3 @postmorteum

[genericpuff]

Dillyhub is Dead.

At least, that's what it appears to be based on the bugs, lack of customer support response, and rapid decline of the site's stylesheets evidently defaulting to factory settings-

(for anyone unaware, it's not supposed to look like that LMAO it's supposed to look like this-)

Banshriek actually did some extra digging and as it turns out, this site may as well be largely abandoned, even more so than I initially suspected. What he dug up is actually very... interesting, but also incredibly confusing and weird LMAO

(p.s. i checked out that community discord and it's also been dead for years, going through it was actually really depressing because there are a number of comic creator mutuals who i know from other servers who were clearly trying to be a tight-knit community for this platform and the devs... really did seem to abandon them altogether, never returning their calls or answering their questions or responding to their feedback 😔😭)

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

Welp, what now?

I do, ultimately, need a secondary mirror for Rekindled. It's convenient and helpful for users who don't have Tumblr accounts, and it's great for me as well because it means I can offer higher-quality uploads without all the restrictive image limits I have to deal with here.

I'm currently looking at NamiComi as the next mirror for Rekindled. I already have an account and the first episode posted there, so I would simply have to pick it up again where it left off. My other option that I can think of off the top of my head is Lemoon.

That said, if anyone has any suggestions for alternative mirrors, I'm open to hearing them. Just be aware that when it comes to mirrors specifically for Rekindled, I wanna fly under the radar. There's a reason I haven't ever posted Rekindled to Webtoons or Tapas, and I don't plan doing so now. So whatever platform I choose, it has to be something discreet. To put it simply, we need a Danny LOL

Sooo yeah! For now, updates outside of Tumblr are obviously paused until I can get another mirror up to date (and that's gonna take at least an afternoon LMAO)

I'll be doing what I can to update DH readers on the situation on that end, but I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna be tricky with the current state of the site. I think my best option is to try and edit / replace the episodes that are currently present with new images that will explain everything and redirect them elsewhere. I mean, I'm already apparently listed as a competitor to Dillyhub, may as well put that power to good use, y'know? 😆 (but that's assuming the edits will even work, that's still TBD).

In the meantime, the next episode will still be posting here on Tumblr when it's finished, hopefully within the next couple weeks or so. By that time I'll probably already have another mirror site set up anyways, buuuut let me know what y'all think about the two choices that I'm erring towards!

Until then, rest in peace, Dillyhub. I don't know if this was an intentional shuttering done quietly in the hopes no one would notice (a failure of course thanks to yours truly) or if their only 2-3 employees just forgot to renew the domain/hosting license for the year, but until the site looks and acts like itself again, I can only assume that the platform has breathed its last. It may not have gone with glory or applause, but its absence will still be felt by this community.

[baddiewiththebook]

STUFFING AND SAUCE [18+]

-> It's Thanksgiving, and the gang is all together under one roof: the Henderson house. While Mrs. Henderson and Wayne battle the turkey in the kitchen, Eddie fights his own urges with the older Henderson sibling. You're home for the holidays, and Eddie's hungry. . . but, not for turkey.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> hookup to lovers, angst, smut

-> warning - explicit content [18+]

a/n -> This is reuploaded and heavily edited from last year.

-> <-

"You keep looking in that mirror and I'll break it," Dustin warns.

Robin's hair stands on end. "You can't be serious? That bad luck is transferable, you know?"

Dustin rolls his eyes at her superstition because honestly they've all come to an agreement to help set the table for Thanksgiving dinner party that his mother has offered to host this year. And, with Eddie's lack of partaking because he's too busy blotting down his hair in the mirror, Dustin doesn't understand why Eddie's come to his house in the first place.

The older boy fidgets with the end of his shirt, and not long after Robin comes to his ear to tell him that you'll love how he looks tonight. That's right, you're coming. He's totally forgotten that Dustin's sister is in town for Thanksgiving. Eddie's hair dangles over his cheeks, so that hopefully no one sees him blush.

"When does your sister get here?" Max throws herself onto the couch next to Steve, whom scoots a seat over from her. Lately, he realizes, she's been a bit too clingy to him.

"She's late," Dustin checks the clock that hangs high above on the wall ticking the time away. "She should have been here an hour ago- Eddie!"

Eddie abandons his task once again to dash over to the front window facing the street. Frost makes the drying grass and the limp trees appear shiny like glass. Foggy car headlights grow larger as they near. Seeing your Honda pull up the short drive brings back memories from the summertime.

Last summer was a record high in heat, which left you with barely any clothes to wear that didn’t leave your skin sticky and hot. Especially when Eddie was bent over the hood of your car and knuckles deep in your engine. Greased up hands and all, he wiped the sweat from his brow to tell you that your car was fixed. When you offered him cash as payment, he declined to the manor of being friendly not as the professional Eddie Munson - mechanic. You chewed on your bottom lip while batting your lashes in his direction.

Eddie’s unsure how you can make him melt, while simply being you. But, eventually, you worked out a payment that both of you were happy with. And, you continued that payment damn near every week. In his office. In his garage. In his van. In his kitchen. In his shower. In his bed.

No space in his shop or in his apartment are left sacred to either of you. And, when the summer was done, you were off to college. No calls or texts from either of you.

“She’s here!” Max spins in the front hallway. You are her idol. She swears you are the coolest person she’s ever met (aside from El).

Dustin shoves Eddie out of the way to observe for himself that in fact his sister has come home for the holidays. Not long after, their shared mom runs out of the house with her apron around her neck like a cape in her sprint.

“Hi, baby!” Your mom peppers your face with her kisses.

You whine. “Mom!”

“Okay, okay!” She pinches your cheeks until they’re glowing, but she does let you go.

Following her is your little brother, Dustin, who grabs you around the waist and he pulls you in tight. He’s gotten much taller since the last time you’ve seen him, but that can’t be right. You’ve only been gone for a few months!

“Hi, Dusty!” You ruffle his hair.

He grins. “What did you bring me?”

“I barely have enough money for books!” You snort.

Dustin drops his grip and then he fans you away. The little sucker grumbles, and avoids helping you with your suitcase despite your mom’s request. But, Steve and Robin dogpile you with warm greetings and Steve offers to help with your bag.

��I need all the dirt on college,” Robin whispers. “Are there really stains on all the sheets?”

What she means to ask is much raunchier. But, your mother is still picking at your clothes because you haven’t ironed this shirt. She’s got this look upon her face like you’ve been away at sea for years and years, and not like you’ve spent two months away at college.

Steve lugs your suitcase inside with you in tow. The rest of your brother’s little friends have also crowded around to get a piece of you. You’re like a celebrity in your own home. Even Wayne’s got his arm around you, whom you didn’t expect to see (but, you’re not complaining - you love Wayne).

Wayne’s got himself stuck in the kitchen with your mom to help her with the turkey. You’re the top subject right now, but soon he dashes off to make sure the bird isn’t drying out in the oven. Conversation begins to swirl like normal, and you’re on the lookout for the one person you might have missed a little more than you should.

You sit on the living room couch between Nancy and Steve with Robin at your feet, and the kids are running about the home hiding a can of whipped cream from your mom and Wayne (who are the only adults capable of reprimanding them of course).

“Do you have any plans while you’re in town?” Nancy asks.

You hope she doesn’t see your neck crane over her curly head. “None, but I’m here for the weekend and Monday since I don’t have classes.”

“What’s your schedule like?”

Nancy overloads everything she can while you’re around. No offense to the other people in your friend group, but they didn’t invite intellectual conversations like you and she did. She’s got too many questions for you, while you’re overthinking that the mid-length skirt you wore is too much.

“Have either of you seen Eddie?” Wayne poses the eye opening question that has the whole gang bobbing their head back and forth like meerkats.

“I saw his van outside, right? I’ll check there,” you stand away from your spot on the sofa.

Robin wants to make a sly comment about your willingness to brave the cold for this shaggy man, who seems to have taken a full shower, shave and added cologne to his washed outfit for the evening. She bites her tongue.

“Bathroom?” Nancy suggests that she go upstairs, and Robin will check this floor.

Steve hauls himself from the couch. “I’ll check outside.”

Steve secretly wishes that Eddie be there smoking a joint that he could bum off of. Holidays aren’t Steve’s favorite because his family isn’t around either. He’s here because he can’t say ‘no’ to Mrs. Henderson.

To no knowledge of Eddie, however, is anyone looking out for him. He’s snuck out to his van while everyone else stays distracted by your arrival. Watching your chest bounce while you laugh, or your skirt flutter while you twirl - you’re a God damn tease and you know what you’re doing.

Knock, knock.

You wrap your knuckles against the glass of his van’s driver’s side window. This must be Eddie’s lucky day, and you’re thinking the same by the way you twist in front of him.

“What’s up?” Eddie nods.

You pout. “Well, you didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me and you’re already bailing?”

“I’m not bailing,” he assures. “Besides, do you think that the way we greet each other is appropriate to do in public?”

A part of you is quite offended that he hasn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Not only did he neglect to call you in the past few months, nor did he greet you at the door like the rest of your friends had done earlier. But, the other part of you is winning over this tug of war. You haven’t had sex in months, and shining your own shield only goes so far.

During the summer, you got what you wanted. You and Eddie screwed like rabbits. When you left, a nagging itch was left that couldn’t be scratched. Admittedly, you got cozy in his apartment. Your sleepovers became ‘Good Morning’ with a side of eggs and toast. Soon began you washing the dishes after, and Eddie asking about what you’re studying for school.

After a while, his apartment became a second home and you no longer had to ask where the bathroom was. You pretended that this little game was to keep Dustin’s watchful eye out of sight, but sipping your morning brew without asking Eddie to add anymore cream or sugar became a bit more than you bargained for.

You’re leaning forward now to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. But, before you have a chance to pull away, Eddie slots his lips to yours like he’s made his way home.

“You want to take advantage that there’s no one parked behind me? Like old times?” Eddie pinches your chin with his index finger and his thumb.

It just so happens that the Beyers family is running a tad behind schedule. Will couldn’t find his Christmas sweater, and Johnathan had to second his shower because according to his mom, he still stunk like a skunk had run through their house. But, as they finally do pull up to the lively home with Christmas lights twinkling on the roof, Joyce Byers spots the eldest Henderson twisted in close conversation with the Munson boy.

Joyce parks their car halfway onto the sidewalk because Johnathan is jolting out of the car murmuring something about the food smelling so good. This leaves Will to juggle the grocery bags full of potatoes and Mac and Cheese into the house. But, Joyce stops to interrupt the conversation you’re having.

“Hi, Miss. Byers,” you pull away from the conversation to greet her warmly.

“Joyce, honey! Joyce!” She corrects. “I didn’t mean to- oh, I’m sorry. Hello, Eddie!”

Eddie waves his hand in her direction. That’s not to be rude, but he would rather not have Joyce see him in a pair of tight denim with his dick as hard as it is right now.

“We’re just going out for a last minute grocery run,” your lie leaves a sour note on your tongue.

Joyce knows very well that the last grocery store to stay open on Thanksgiving has closed about thirty minutes ago. But, she doesn’t tell them that she knows this. She quite fondly looks back to her own memories of when she snuck out of her family ‘s Christmas party with her boyfriend at the time.

“Be safe,” Joyce winks, then turns on her heel to go inside.

You’re quick to hop into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. An old bitter cigarettes scent stains the interior of the vehicle like a thick layer of butter on toast. You buckle up, then kick your feet out in what little room he has under the dash. Eddie’s abused the passenger side of his van for fast food wrappers and travel mugs he hasn’t taken inside for however long.

Aside from a tire whining, Eddie cuts the headlights to sneak out of the drive without anyone noticing from inside.

Eddie places one of his hands across your thigh, “Grocery shopping?”

"What was I supposed to say?" You shake your head

You’re biting at the edge of something wonderful here. Looking on to your left, Eddie’s got his lip tugged between his teeth. His eye on the road. His mind in the gutter. The hand he’s got squeezing against the fat of your inner thigh dances dangerously across your skin. Your spine arches straight back. Eyes shut blissfully as you let a whine escape you.

Then, he dares flick your awaiting clit while driving solo with one hand on the wheel and an eye on the road. Not to be crude, but he’s been here before with you. Tight on time. Sneaking about like high schoolers still. You’re on his mind most of the time these days because he wants to know if what you did with him all summer is what you would do in college with other people. He’s subjected himself to exhausting torturous hours at work just so he doesn’t have to think about you in your back getting railed by a random dude.

Somehow he’s got you here now, and your putty under his fingers. Your eyelashes flutter. Brows furrow. Your chest rises and falls at the lightest touches from him.

Clenching your legs against his large grip he's got on you, Eddie pulls off to the side of the road. He’s waited far too long to revisit this little charade. Pulling in behind a few trees, he doesn’t have to ask because you’re already climbing into the back.

You land on a set of blankets he hasn’t taken out since you left.

Eddie crawls into the back after you. Kisses like he never left. Nostalgia makes your heart skip inside of your chest. He keeps you there under his touch, and squeezing at your sides as you sink deeper into his embrace.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Eddie breathes onto your neck, before attaching himself there and nibbling into your flesh.

Your whines acknowledge that he’s got just the right spot - like he could have forgotten. The embrace is so familiar that your chest burns for him.

“More,” you beg into his hair, while gripping your hands into fists of the fabric on his back.

If there was more time, Eddie would have stayed there all night just to hear your heart beat against his eardrum. Yet, he’s undoing his belt, the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down to match you flipping up that sinful little skirt you wore just to tease him. Wetting his fingers, he then hooks his pinky in your underwear to move them to the side. Rubbing your clit, Eddie hears your moans bounce from each side of the van. You’re on full display. Deliciously beautiful and all for him.

You’re both aware of this, so there’s no need to say anything.

“Eddie,” except you do. “Please. I need you!”

“I’ll never stop needing you,” he finds your lips again, as he pushes himself deep inside of you.

Groaning together, your core aches a familiar feeling. Tightening your grip against him like you’re scared he’ll run away. He’s got his eye not on your eye, but on your soul. Reaching far beneath the depths that anyone could ever fall into, and at its core is you. Your being is the only part he’ll ever need - the only thing he longs for. And so, as he’s fucking you at a punishing rate, he holds on tight for he’s afraid to let go.

You break the eye contact when you toss your head back. Stars form in your vision, as you topple over the edge of bliss. Following soon, you hear Eddie groan one last time and he’s spilling inside of you.

“Shit,” he rolls onto the blankets trying to catch his breath.

You’re doing the same, and with one long exhale, you swing yourself over so that you’re laying across his body. Eddie drowsily opens his eye to see the most beautiful creature he’s laid his eye on. Lipstick smeared. Mascara smudged. Your heart sounds as though it’s going to burst from your chest.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly.

Eddie chuckles. “Hey, beautiful.”

Beautiful. That’s an unspoken word between you two. Usually, after sex, the two of you either dress in silence or roll over and go to sleep. You miss the feeling of being wanted, and you’ve got your fingers crossed that he’s not just playing his cards.

Eddie’s hand finds the small of your back to bring you closer.

“What are you thinking about?” He touches your forehead with his index finger.

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, before bravely making the leap to ask. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you’ll never stop needing me,” you swallow thickly.

Eddie’s fingers make patterns along your bare back. Eyes locked onto yours, he studies your face through the shadows of the arriving evening. All this time you’ve been away, you’ve been on his mind. If he knew what dorm you live in, he’d be there in a heart beat to keep you warm during these cooler months.

“I’ll never,” he folds your fingers in with his just so he can bring your hand to his mouth, and so he can kiss every knuckle on your hand, “stop needing you.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you lean in for a kiss.

Someone bashes a fist against the back door to the van, and you know your screwed. Red and blue lights flicker and flash outside the window.

"Shit!" You scramble to pat down your hair, and your skirt.

Eddie tucks himself into his pants, while muttering curses to himself.

“Police!” Jim Hopper’s voice is easily recognizable. “Come on, Munson. Don’t make me come in there.”

With a few run-ins with the law, and making a reputation as the “freak” of Hawkins High School, Eddie’s van became a staple around town. Even the police knew just about where ever he is at any time.

Tumbling over each other, you’re sure the guilt is written all over your faces. Nearly blinded by a flashlight to the face, you shield your eye away from Jim Hopper, who squints at you two. Clearly caught in the act of a wild youthful fantasy, Jim clicks off his flashlight and speaks to you both;

“I was on my way to your mom’s house,” he makes a point to stare you down, before continuing, “when I was radioed that there’s a suspicious van lingering off the side of the road. Care to explain?”

Not like there is much explaining to do. The story is pretty black and white, but that doesn’t discourage Eddie to come up with an aching bumble of lies.

“We were just on our way to the grocery store when we ran out of gas,” he began with your earlier plot. “We ran out of cranberry sauce.”

“Right,” Jim grunts. “I better give you a ride back.”

Walking back into the house to explain why you and Eddie disappeared has been mute to your ears. All of the funny faces from the younger kids, or the suspected glances from the older friends. God, you’d never hear the end of this from Robin. She’s been on your behind about fixing you up with Eddie for a while.

“You okay?” Eddie nudges you.

Jim says with his back turned, “Come on, kids. No use standing around a dead car. I’ll see what I can do about getting you back here with a gas can in the morning.”

“I’m fine,” you're embarrassed, but you're warm knowing where you stand with Eddie.

You’re crammed in the back of Jim’s Chevrolet with Eddie. Also stuffed between you two, is a sizable Tupperware full of mashed potatoes. El twists around in the front seat to let you know that she made them this year.

Bumps in the road weigh heavy against the beating inside your chest. You’re not speaking a language that Eddie totally understands, but he knows where your head is at. He touches your pinky with his sending a few jolts straight to your heart and your stomach flips. You continue to manage the Tupperware from tipping all over the seats.

The Sheriff spins the wheel to turn down your street. That empty spot Eddie left has Jim’s name written all over it.

Somehow the home has become busier than when you left earlier. Sounds of laughter bubble through the chill of the evening. The blinds are drawn, so you can see the Christmas tree in the living room lined with a calamity of decorations that have been collected over the years. Tinsel shines against the living room lamps draped across doorways, and the window frame. Your mom insists on putting the decorations up the day after Halloween.

You can almost hear Wayne’s boyish laughter that he’s never quite grown out of, while he tortures the young kids. He’s cornered Lucas and Max with a fake bushel of mistletoe in his hand. Max squirms when Lucas kisses her on the cheek, but later blushes while no one is looking.

The car tilts as the group climbs out and down onto the driveway. You’ll never understand the love for a lifted truck like this.

Despite wanting to be useful, El takes the mashed potatoes from you.

“I’ll be taking that!” She announces proudly.

With El and Jim both taking the lead, Eddie sneaks in to tug at your hand.

The front door swings open.

“Jim Hopper,” Wayne announces. “And- erm, Eddie?”

You poke your head around Jim’s back, and Wayne’s mouth draws agape.

“Their grocery store run ended on a flat tire, so I brought them back here,” Jim says.

“Thank you for rescuing them,” he replies. “Well, come in. Dinner is just about ready.”

Jim, El and yourself enter the home without too much inquiry from Wayne. But, you hear a thunk and Eddie’s protest, so you can imagine Wayne just knocked some sense into the back of Eddie’s head.

“You must be cold, darling,” Wayne snaps his finger. “I’ll bring you some hot chocolate. Go on and sit by the fire in the living room. Your friends have been waiting for you.”

Pinching Eddie on the ear, Wayne drags him away to the kitchen where you just know he’s getting scolded.

You bite the bullet, and find your friends in the living room surrounding the fireplace. Steve’s fought for and gotten the prime spot, so that his back is to the flame and he’s heating up in the knitted sweater that Nancy made for him.

Johnathan is still unhappy about the exchange by the way, even if she knitted him a pair of socks later. You can’t imagine a world where Johnathan and Steve might get along anyway. Nancy has false hopes.

“There you are!” Nancy worries like a mom who’s lost sight of her kids for more than five minutes. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Really?” You plop down next to Robin on the couch, who’s got this grin that you beg won’t start talking.

“Won’t you enlighten us?” Robin bats her lashes.

Steve clears his throat. “Don’t think she’ll have too.”

“Warm up with this,” Eddie’s come from the kitchen with hot chocolate in hand. He hands it to you, and kisses the top of your head.

“Shut up!” Robin yells. “Really?”

“Really what?” Dustin pokes his head from around the corner before Eddie can snake his hands away from you. “Oh, damn.”

-> <-

tags: @ali-r3n

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Red carpet

“Welcome everyone!” is heard coming out of the TV in the living room. The host smiles brightly as they continue their speech, wearing a perfectly fitted suit that probably costed a fortune. “Today, we will be awarding our dearest heroes for their bravery and good deeds. In categories like ‘best fight’, ‘best safe’ and ‘best rookie’ we will be putting these crime-fighters in the spotlight they deserve,” Host says, not dropping the blinding smile once. That last line earns a snicker from Villain, walking out of the kitchen, holding so much snacks, it could feed an army. “I swear, they get bolder every year,” Hero huffs, sipping from their lemonade.

“Don’t you regret not going just a bit?” Villain asks as they settle down on the couch, next to Hero. “No,” Hero answers sternly as they sit a bit closer to the Villain. Villain pulls the crimefighter into their arms in response, letting the Hero’s head rest on their shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you all dressed up like that, though.” Hero lets out a little laugh, burying their head deeper into the criminals shoulder. “What? It’s the truth… Are you blushing?” The Villain giggles. A quiet ‘No, I’m not.’ escapes the shoulder, but it just causes Villain to laugh a little harder. “It’s cute, Hero,” Villain says as they run their hand through the tomato-red Hero’s hair.

“Oh my…” Villain muttered. “Huh?” Hero looked up at the TV. And there it was. Superhero in the most over the top, ridiculous, ugly outfit anyone had ever worn to a red carpet. Villain and Hero looked at each other for a couple of seconds before completely losing it. They kept wheezing as the photographers kept taking pictures. “You know,” Hero said once they found their breath again, “Superhero did keep saying to the whole team that their outfit was going to win a prize this evening.” Villain shakes their head in disbelief. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean the ‘worst dressed’ prize. Oh, the Villains group chat is going to love this.” Hero can’t help but start giggling again. “Other Villain is going to have a field day. Please send me the memes, I don’t think I can live without them.”

Hi! It's been a while, but I have finally found the time and energy to write again. I hope to write more and more soon, but with me you never know. Hopefully you enjoyed!

[ssahotchnerr]

how about doing a birthday celebration with the team for aaron and he feels overwhelmed bc he’s so used to doing nothing for his birthday since haley passed and felt alone even with jack <333

celebrated

happy birthday aaron 🥹<33 cw; established relationship, mentions of haley, aaron self deprecating (it's sad - i'm sad), references to alcohol, mentions of food, hurt to comfort wc; 1.4k

about an hour or so in, you found aaron in the kitchen, half sitting-half resting against the counter. the man of the hour had been missing in action; he'd gone in search of a drink a while ago and had yet to return.

it was november second, aaron's birthday, and the first birthday you were spending with him. naturally, you wanted to go all out, for aaron to feel nothing but loved on his special day.

it wasn't a surprise party, aaron had been aware the whole time (you knew he didn't favor surprises too much), but had zero part in planning. he was only aware of the time jess were to drop over to pick up jack for the night, and the time of which the others would be arriving at the apartment. which, had been swallowed up with balloons, colorful streamers, confetti was scattered across the floor (which truthfully you were dreading picking up later, and hopefully you all wouldn't still be finding pieces for the next month), a banner was hung on the wall. his team were all in attendance, drinks were flowing, lively conversations were being had, a table of god only knew how many appetizers.

it was going nearly as perfectly as you had visualized, mind the part where aaron snuck away.

"hey, you alright?" you sidled up to him, your hand comfortably resting on his back.

aaron nodded, meeting your eyes as he lifted his drink to his lips. his eyes maintained their usual soft glow, but appeared down. "all good."

you weren't convinced, your puzzlement clear. "but you're hiding?"

"i wouldn't call it hiding." he chuckled softly, a sigh leaving him as he set his glass of whisky down. "just soaking it in? the night's been great, don't get me wrong. but it feels... strange."

you moved in front of him to wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him flush against you. "can i ask why?"

"the last time i had a banner," aaron chuckled again, a melancholiness suddenly overtaking him. "jack was practically a newborn - haley's doing."

"oh."

"yeah." aaron's hand ran up and down your back instinctively, mindlessly drawing shapes. "brings back memories."

"god i can only imagine." you sobered, tucking yourself more into his chest. your ear was pressed against him, hearing his steady heartbeat.

"i guess overwhelmed is the correct word to describe it. haley always went all out, then the divorce happened and then..." an exhale left him. "birthdays since, never did anything. i guess it was acknowledged but never celebrated. come to think of it, i don't think i've ever celebrated with the team."

as if on cue, a loud commotion came from the other room - team mid-drinking game.

once it had died down, you queried, "how come?"

aaron continued, the hand on your back rising to the surface just below your neck, finger pads pressing into your skin comfortably. "some years we were on a case, penelope hosted her Día de los Muertos parties, or everyone was still recovering from halloween. trust me, i'm sure no one would be too keen on partying again the next night. and you know me, to them, i'm not the heartfelt, full of life, approachable type. not worth it." he laughed, but it was more so an attempt to brush it off.

but it didn't sit right with you - of course it didn't. "did you ever say something about it?"

"it's okay." it wasn't, and he didn't answer your question. "i felt alone, sure, but when didn't i? i managed, and just took jack out for ice cream if i happened to be around. i don't think he ever knew the reason why, either."

you craned your head up to look at him. this surprised you. "you never told him?"

"it's," aaron paused, exhaling a breath. "complicated. he knows but he doesn't. he's young, the only dates he's technically supposed to remember at seven are christmas, halloween, his birthday." aaron shook his head, feeling almost silly. "what was i supposed to do, just out of the blue state, 'it's my birthday'?"

"well, it wouldn't have hurt. he could've made you a card, or wished you happy birthday at the bare minimum."

"i didn't want to inconvenience him-"

"aaron," you laughed sadly, your heart shattering at the same time. "he's your son."

"it's okay." there it was again. "my birthday wasn't a huge deal growing up anyway. if i wasn't as gravely punctual as i am and paid attention to the date, it most likely would pass as any other, normal day."

you fell silent; having so much to say, but having no idea how to fully express it. you just felt, sad. for him.

aaron sensed your dropping demeanor, and placed a kiss on your forehead to hopefully counter it. "it doesn't matter much now. i have you."

"but yet, you're still here rather than out there." you nudged your head towards the direction of the distant yells. "and i didn't even think about you potentially getting overwhelmed, i'm sorry. this party, it's an almost drastic change come to think of it, and i should've-"

"are you kidding?" astonishment reigned in his voice. "the fact that you went through all this - planning, coordinating, decorating - for me. it makes up for all those years alone. and i'm not just saying that because i love you." he gave you a cheeky expression, but you knew he was only playing it up to lighten the situation, despite his genuineness. "even breakfast with jack in bed this morning. i never pictured myself as the type to get breakfast in bed, stuff like that doesn't happen to me. it was really, really special, thank you."

"well, you better get used to it." a rush of air left your nose - makeshift laughter - as you thought back to earlier in the day. "not only was it a hit for you, but jack as well. he already brought up pancakes instead of waffles, with sprinkles, for next year."

a laugh shook through aaron's chest, jostling you a bit, before he fell silent, his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.

"you deserve to be celebrated." you offered softly, the solemness reentering your heart, although it never left.

it weighed heavy on you - the man who gave you everything, who made you feel like you were everything, and who deserved it even more, defining himself as close to nothing. it was in complete aaron fashion, but you wished he wouldn't downplay, everything about himself, or make up 'rational' excuses to be okay with being overshadowed. he wasn't only meant to be there for others, to be thinking of others - he deserved happy, simple things too.

aaron's expression started to pull into one of disagreement, but you were quick to halt it. "hey, no. you deserve to be celebrated. i can't even tell you how much your existence means to me. being with you, doing life with you, seeing you be the best dad to jack and the most integral leader to the team. they value you, trust you, and you're family to them. they wouldn't be here tonight if you were some hard ass who wasn't worth it. that's not you. and i thank the stars every day you're here with me."

"honey-"

"please. say it."

nothing short of longing was cast on your face, in your eyes, and aaron were suddenly afraid that if he didn't admit so, the tears would start rolling.

he sighed, "i deserve to be celebrated."

"no, you gotta say it like you mean it."

aaron playfully rolled his eyes, but caved, his tone more forceful this time around. "i deserve to be celebrated."

"you're damn right, and you better start believing it."

aaron took a deep breath, pressing his lips to yours. "with you around, i will. thank you, i love you."

you returned the kiss, giving his chest an affectionate pat. "c'mon, let's rejoin your party."

you started exiting the kitchen, but aaron stayed put. when you looked back, another melancholy expression painted his face, and standing there, he almost looked younger for a moment.

"babe?"

"it is nice. not feeling like a drill sergeant for once."

your lips tipped into a smile as he moved closer, brushing your hands along his torso as soon as he was in reach. "they love you."

one of his rare, small but charming smiles adorned his face, brown eyes aglow. "i know."

"i love you."

aaron grabbed one of your hands, allowing you to lead him back to his party.

"i know."

[yukipri]

Some thoughts on Cara

So some of you may have heard about Cara, the new platform that a lot of artists are trying out. It's been around for a while, but there's been a recent huge surge of new users, myself among them. Thought I'd type up a lil thing on my initial thoughts.

First, what is Cara?

From their About Cara page:

Cara is a social media and portfolio platform for artists. With the widespread use of generative AI, we decided to build a place that filters out generative AI images so that people who want to find authentic creatives and artwork can do so easily. Many platforms currently accept AI art when it’s not ethical, while others have promised “no AI forever” policies without consideration for the scenario where adoption of such technologies may happen at the workplace in the coming years. The future of creative industries requires nuanced understanding and support to help artists and companies connect and work together. We want to bridge the gap and build a platform that we would enjoy using as creatives ourselves. Our stance on AI: ・We do not agree with generative AI tools in their current unethical form, and we won’t host AI-generated portfolios unless the rampant ethical and data privacy issues around datasets are resolved via regulation. ・In the event that legislation is passed to clearly protect artists, we believe that AI-generated content should always be clearly labeled, because the public should always be able to search for human-made art and media easily.

Should note that Cara is independently funded, and is made by a core group of artists and engineers and is even collaborating with the Glaze project. It's very much a platform by artists, for artists!

Should also mention that in being a platform for artists, it's more a gallery first, with social media functionalities on the side. The info below will hopefully explain how that works.

Next, my actual initial thoughts using it, and things that set it apart from other platforms I've used:

1) When you post, you can choose to check the portfolio option, or to NOT check it. This is fantastic because it means I can have just my art organized in my gallery, but I can still post random stuff like photos of my cats and it won't clutter things. You can also just ramble/text post and it won't affect the gallery view!

2) You can adjust your crop preview for your images. Such a simple thing, yet so darn nice.

3) When you check that "Add to portfolio," you get a bunch of additional optional fields: Title, Field/Medium, Project Type, Category Tags, and Software Used. It's nice that you can put all this info into organized fields that don't take up text space.

4) Speaking of text, 5000 character limit is niiiiice. If you want to talk, you can.

5) Two separate feeds, a "For You" algorithmic one, and "Following." The "Following" actually appears to be full chronological timeline of just folks you follow (like Tumblr). Amazing.

6) Now usually, "For You" being set to home/default kinda pisses me off because generally I like curating my own experience, but not here, for this handy reason: if you tap the gear symbol, you can ADJUST your algorithm feed!

So you can choose what you see still!!! AMAZING. And, again, you still have your Following timeline too.

7) To repeat the stuff at the top of this post, its creation and intent as a place by artists, for artists. Hopefully you can also see from the points above that it's been designed with artists in mind.

8) No GenAI images!!!! There's a pop up that says it's not allowed, and apparently there's some sort of detector thing too. Not sure how reliable the latter is, but so far, it's just been a breath of fresh air, being able to scroll and see human art art and art!

To be clear, Cara's not perfect and is currently pretty laggy, and you can get errors while posting (so far, I've had more success on desktop than the mobile app), but that's understandable, given the small team. They'll need time to scale. For me though, it's a fair tradeoff for a platform that actually cares about artists.

Currently it also doesn't allow NSFW, not sure if that'll change given app store rules.

As mentioned above, they're independently funded, which means the team is currently paying for Cara itself. They have a kofi set up for folks who want to chip in, but it's optional. Here's the link to the tweet from one of the founders:

And a reminder that no matter that the platform itself isn't selling our data to GenAI, it can still be scraped by third parties. Protect your work with Glaze and Nightshade!

Anyway, I'm still figuring stuff out and have only been on Cara a few days, but I feel hopeful, and I think they're off to a good start.

I hope this post has been informative!

Lastly, here's my own Cara if you want to come say hi! Not sure at all if I'll be active on there, but if you're an artist like me who is keeping an eye out for hopefully nice communities, check it out!

[dollettodraws]

GIFT EXCHANGE! WOO!

(click for better quality)

@stormbreaker101 , I’m your secret gift giver! I decided to go with the 3rd prompt, which was to draw a scene from any of your AvA fics on ao3! So here’s the CG watching Plan Bee via Red’s suggestion and to everyone else’s dismay :D I went with this specific one cause i actually read the one shot this is based on before I found out you were my giftee so this was extra fun! Hopefully this is well enough and it actually looks like they’re watching the movie LOL

Thank you @avagiftexchange for hosting!!! This was my first one since it’s been my first year actually on tumblr, so hopefully i can join again next year :D

Little bonus for ya ;)

This is the fic by the way if anyone’s interested!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays!!! 🎄🎁

[forevamark]

3. i'm gonna yak! | time lapse l.mk

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

Tags: pre idol debut to idol au, christmas and new years time line, slice of life moments, college student reader, substantial plot leading to smut, very dialogue heavy, angsty moments, slow burn, relationship struggle, lovers to exes to lovers

Intended for 18+ readers, minors do not interact.

masterlist for time lapse

previous ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next

Word Count : 6.3k+

Summary: Mark has always had the dream of becoming a big music star, meanwhile your aspirations lied with academics and coexisting with Mark. Mark struggles with telling reader that he will be leaving for Korea to pursue his music career very soon, in fear of losing what they have.

warnings are under the tab for chapters that apply.

—-

December 1, 2023

“So you have slept with him… right?” Kathy interrogates ignoring her stacks of papers.

You two were situated in the library cramming for the last exam of your undergraduate career. 

“I have not,” you responded lazily while flipping through the textbook in front of you, “As I told you before, I don’t even know if I’m ready for a relationship yet.”

“It’s been almost a year y/n! Don’t let this go because of He Who Shall Not Be Named…” Kathy groans while attempting to loosen your grip on your pencil, “Seungcheol is so hot, plus he’s a gentleman!”

“I feel like those should have been reversed,” you giggle, finally setting down your things and looking at her, “But yes, he is indeed very hot.”

“Stop holding back! Bring him to the annual Christmas hangout! I’m sure seeing him with all of us will make things a bit more realistic for you. Izaiah is hosting Christmas and New Year’s again. Hopefully, we can rewrite some sour memories and replace them with some sweet ones.”

It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Seungcheol is everything that makes sense as a long-term commitment- not to mention he is someone who wants a long-term commitment with you.

“Okay fine, maybe I will bring him.”

Kathy cheered a loud burst of excitement that elicited a few shushes and glares from around you two.

“Now can we go back to finishing our work? I want to finish all my classwork before the Christmas party this weekend.”

Kathy smiles and nods in agreeance.

Kathy: He will be there this weekend, right? 

Izaiah: Yes he will. Is she prepared? 

Kathy: I think she will be okay 🙂

December 2, 2023

“Red or white?” you ask Seungcheol as you hold up two different dresses in your room, him lying on your bed scrolling lazily before looking up at you.

“Red, it is Christmas after all!” he smiles before continuing to scroll.

Today is the day that Seungcheol will be introduced, properly, to your friend group. As you tugged the mascara through your eyelashes you couldn’t help but wonder what you should even introduce him as. 

“Hey guys! Merry Christmas! This is my friend that I don’t know if he’s more than a friend, sir-friend, Seungcheol!” 

Ick. You shook your head and pulled your pajamas on. You walked out meeting Seungcheol at the door as he laced his shoes, him in matching pajamas.

He grabbed his keys and the mac and cheese from the kitchen table before meeting your anxious gaze, “Ready?”

-

The crisp winter air filled with the aroma of pine and chimney smoke greeted me as you both approached Izaiah’s house. His neighborhood was adorned with twinkling Christmas lights, and the anticipation of warmth and joy hung in the air. You two reached the doorstep and knocked on the festive wreath-adorned door.

The door creaked open, revealing Izaiah’s smiling face. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he welcomed you both inside. The cozy living room was transformed into a winter wonderland, adorned with tinsel, ornaments, and a beautifully decorated Christmas tree that stood proudly in the corner.

“It’s about time!” Izaiah exclaims while pulling you into his warm home, “I was wondering when you would show up.” 

“Hi Izaiah, it really has been a while huh?” 

He chuckles as you and Seungcheol shuffle in from the cold and take your shoes off.  The boys share a hug and close the door.

“Yes, far too long! Congrats by the way! Finally done, welcome to the alum life!” 

“I’m so happy I’m done. Now let’s just hope I don’t fall on that stage.”

Friends surround you two greeting you two with holiday cheers and introductions.

A smile creeps onto your face as Seungcheol brightens the room even further with his charisma and charm.

"Hey there! Merry Christmas!" Kathy exclaimed, giving you a warm hug. The sounds of cheerful holiday music and laughter filled the air. The room was bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a warm and inviting ambiance.

"I love what you've done with the place. It's like stepping into a Christmas dream," you say, taking in the festive atmosphere.

"Thanks! I went all out this year. Come on, let’s eat," Izaiah said, leading us through the festively decorated rooms. The fireplace crackled with a gentle warmth, casting a comforting glow over the room. 

In the kitchen, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air. A plate of gingerbread men, snowflake-shaped sugar cookies, and chocolate truffles tempted you from the counter. Kathy pointed proudly at the treats.

"I spent all morning baking. Help yourself!"

You two settled into the cozy living room, surrounded by the glow of Christmas lights. The flickering flames in the fireplace danced to the rhythm of the laughter and conversation. Festive ornaments dangled from the tree, and wrapped presents nestled beneath its branches.

As you all shared stories and caught up on each other's lives, the joy of the season was evident. Seungcheol’s energy felt like he was always a part of your little group. He was extroverted, making jokes here and there and telling crazy stories from his fraternity. Everyone loved him, and maybe you were included in that everyone? The room echoed with the warmth of friendship, and the spirit of Christmas was alive and well. 

The memories of the year prior hung heavy in your heart as you saw the same curtains you hid behind as you played with the little kids. The way Mark would stand against the counter, his eyes never leaving your frame as you held a baby. You remember in that moment you wanted so badly for that baby to be yours, to be his. 

Your mindless thoughts were shaken away as Seongcheol laid a lazy arm around your shoulder and gave you an ‘Are you okay’ eyebrow raise. You gave him a thumbs up before trying to settle between his arms on the couch. 

A doorbell cut off Kathy retelling a story of how you both got lost during your study abroad trip in Peru.

“Terry my boy!” Kathy shrieked as she was nearing the penultimate part of the story, “Get the door!” 

“I need to break the seal!” He shouts back, running towards the bathroom, “I’m going to pee myself from laughter!” 

You chuckle before standing up. “I’ll get it don’t worry.”

“Actually! How about I get it!” Izaiah squeaks while standing up quickly almost racing you to the door, “I am the host after all!” he sings.

“I’m already here!” you giggle pushing him out of the way.

“Please I insist!” He chuckles uneasily, starting to shove you harder, “Go get a drink!”

“I have one I’m fine-” you shove back playfully.

“Then get me one,” he grips your shoulders tightly, “please?”

“Okay…” you eye him wearily before walking backward, “Who is late anyways? Everyone is here.” 

Walking back into the living room everybody is tense. Kathy hurriedly meets you at the minibar as you pull out a glass, “So Seungcheol is assimilating in nicely I see!” 

“Yeah, I guess he is…” you mumble while pouring the gin. Commotion came from the door, greeting the new face to the party.

Kathy turns your frame to face her, “I’m so glad you brought him! You two are like perfect together!” 

“I don’t know if perfect is the word…” you bump into her lightly, “It’s only been like a month.”

“Well, a lot changed in a month! You’re finally all smiley after a year of Miss Grumpy, I’d say let’s cheers to that!” She raises her cup to meet yours.

“This isn’t even mine,” you chuckle before clinking glasses with her.

“Well trust me you’re going to need that shot!” She hurriedly lifted the cup to your lips and felt the liquid burn down your throat. 

“That sucked!” you yelled while making a face.

“Not as much as this…” She mumbled while pouring you another.

“Woah slow down!” you laughed about to stop her, but she handed you the glass again.

“No no… you’ll need that!”

Before you could protest you heard something from behind that made you drop the glass on the floor, everyone’s head turning towards you, the silence deafening. 

“Merry Christmas everyone!” the voice rasped out before turning towards the mess of a noise you made.

There he stood. Looking more amazing than ever. His hair was a light brown, not put together but gorgeously effortless. His cheeks were dusted pink, growing more red by the second as you two stood there taking each other in. The room seemed to start spinning as you took in the man you once knew so fondly. 

He’s changed a lot, yet not at all. His posture was better, long gone was that slouch that used to slump over his guitar in your apartment. His style was still the same, baggy sweaters and sweatpants only this time adorned in name brands that probably cost the same as your semesterly tuition. But his hands. They gleamed in the silver jewelry, rings stacked with bracelets to match. 

Your hands shook as he felt time still staring at the woman he never stopped loving. Your curves hugging your silk red pajamas, fluffy socks with small snowmen. It’s you. It’s always been you.

“y/n” he breathed out. 

“Mark-” you whispered. 

“Oh my God! It’s thee, Mark Lee!” You heard from across the room breaking your eye contact between you two, Mark’s unmoving.

“Dude, you are a legend!” Seungcheol said while motioning to Mark to dap him up. Mark doesn’t look away as he accepts his handshake and mumbles a small thank you. 

“Babe, you never told me you know Mark Lee?” Seungcheol says while wrapping an arm around you, “The pride of our town, man, thee, Mark Lee.”

“Babe?” Mark scoffs while narrowing his eyes at Seungcheol, finally breaking eye contact to take in your two matching pajamas. 

“Not official,” Seungcheol laughs before heading towards the fridge, “But don’t worry, we’ll lock that down soon,” he winks at you before turning back to Mark, “Yo bro, want a drink? I bet you have so many stories, you know, with you being famous and all.”

Mark shook the thousands of angry thoughts away from his mind and managed to shake out a stiff nod accepting the beer and taking a hefty gulp.

“Let me help you clean that,” Mark marches over to your still frozen yet shaking self.

“It’s fine.” you squeak as he kneels starting to pick the glass up with his bare hands.

“Like I’m going to have you hurt yourself…” Mark mumbles while picking the large shards.

Anger began to resurface, along with pain and hurt, “It’s fine, you already did.”

Pushing past him, you run to the bathroom to finally get some air that your lungs didn’t seem to be taking in. Sliding down the door you let the tears fall.

It’s him. It’s him. It’s him.

—

"So, Mark, how do you know y/n?” Seungcheol asked, taking a sip of his beer in the living room. He sat adjacent to Mark, your friends scattered across the room, eyeing the scene in front of them carefully.

Mark forced a smile, hiding the twinge of discomfort. "We've known each other for a few years. We’re friends. Met in grade school. We were… best friends.”

Seungcheol nodded, genuinely interested in getting to know the famous man better. "That's cool. She is a great person. What made you two so close?”

The room took in a quick gasp, Seungcheol too oblivious to notice.

Mark hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing his words. "We just crossed paths naturally, you know? Izaiah and I were friends, played basketball together, and she would always be there. She was always there.”

Seungcheol smiled, oblivious to any underlying tension from Mark’s response. “That’s crazy, dude.”

Mark nods.

“She like, never mentioned you. I always just thought it was her and Kathy as the 4lyfers.”

Mark's eyes flickered, masking the unease he felt. "Yeah, we've always been on good terms. It’s just you know… the new life as an idol and all…”

Mixed knowing looks were exchanged around the room as everybody tried to not scoff at his words.

Seungcheol had no problem talking about himself. He chatted about work, hobbies, and shared interests. Seungcheol's excitement grew, not only did he achieve another level with you today by meeting the rest of your friends, but he also met your longest best friend. He had been contemplating asking you to be his girlfriend, and he couldn't help but share his thoughts with Mark.

"You know, Mark, everyone, I've been thinking about something. Christmas is just around the corner, and I'm planning to ask y/n if she'd like to be my girlfriend. I enjoy spending time with her, and I feel like it's the right time to take things to the next level," Seungcheol confessed, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Everyone oohed and ahhed at his confession, but everyone’s attention was on Mark.

Mark's forced smile faltered for a moment, his internal struggle evident. "That sounds like a great idea. I hope it works out for you two,” his words tasted like vinegar, his voice laced with jealousy and hurt.

Seungcheol grinned, oblivious to the conflicting emotions in Mark's mind. "Thanks, man. I appreciate your support. I'll make it special for her."

Little did Seungcheol know, the conversation had stirred a storm of resentment within Mark. As he contemplated the upcoming confession, Mark couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and regret, concealing the complicated history between you two. The holiday season seemed to hold more than just festive cheer; it carried the weight of untold secrets and unspoken feelings.

–

You couldn’t wait in this bathroom forever. You knew that. 

But why the fuck was he here?

He was supposed to be gone at least for three years. At least.

You were still trying to figure everything out with Seungcheol. And how dare he just claim you like that in front of everybody? You weren’t even ready to be in a relationship yet… right?

But why not? Why couldn’t you be?

You took more deep breaths while staring intently in the mirror trying to level yourself. 

You’re fine. You’ve been fine for a long time. He’s old news, and truthfully you’re probably even older news to him. 

Patting under your eyes and straightening out your clothes, you said some affirmations before tugging on the door handle. 

I’m fine. It’s all good.

“There she is!” Kathy shouted while rising to her feet, and rushing over to you, “How are you doing?” she whispered while pulling you softly into a hug.

“You fucking knew didn’t you?” you sneered back with a fake smile.

“So sorry! But no way to get over it completely without ripping the bandaid off completely!” she pouts, “Plus…” she wiggled her eyebrows, “What is the best way to show your ex that you’re doing great? How about a hot new boyfriend?”

You sigh as you mull over her words… maybe Seungcheol would be a great way to rub it into Mark’s face.

“Sorry, y’all!” you present to everyone while making your way to Mark, “Just couldn’t believe my bestie boo was back after all this time!” you shove him hard as you pull him into a threatening hug, “What a Christmas miracle huh?”

“Haha…” Mark chuckled with a confused tone while returning your tight embrace taking in a deep breath of your scent, “Guess Santa came early!”

“Coal would have been just as fine…” you hum pulling away and walking towards Seungcheol and plopping right onto his awaiting lap.

“So Mark,” you start in a sickly sweet voice, “How’s Korea been treating you?”

“It’s good.” He flatly says while throwing daggers towards your happy frame sitting on a more than glee Seungcheol.

“Hmm… And being famous, how’s that?” you uninterestingly reply while playing with Seungcheol’s hair.

“It’s great. But I don’t love having to hide just to go to the store and get some snacks.”

A few laughs ricocheted off the walls from your friends.

“But you’re used to that right?” you turn to him, “Ya know, hiding?”

“Something like that,” he whispered through tight lips. 

“How about being a big-time idol? What’s it like reaching your big dreams?” you make a show of jazz hands emphasizing your sarcasm.

“Not my dreams, not yet,” he sighs his eyes becoming sad.

“Always wanting more, right? Never could be satiated here right?” you felt your anger starting to bubble while you eyed down Mark.

“Woah, y/n, calm down a bit yeah? Mark has probably been through a lot to get where he is now. You gotta respect that!” Seungcheol eased into your ear trying to deescalate the palpable uneasiness from you.

“Oh no, yeah Mark has done a lot!” Izaiah chimes in cutting the tension, “Now enough catching up! Welcome back, Mark! Now let’s play some music, karaoke maybe? And let’s get this Christmas party started!”

Everyone seemed to snap out of the drama scene that was happening in front of them before finally cheering along and dispersing toward different parts of the room.

–

“Y/n,” Seuncheol cleared his throat from behind you during a game of cup pong, “I think Mark might have like a thing for you or something…” 

You turned to him with frantic eyes, “No! No! No, he wouldn’t. That’s dumb. You’re dumb. He’s dumb. Why would you say something so dumb?” you quickly spew.

“I don’t know… He keeps staring at you like he wants to eat you or something…” he whispers into your ear pulling you closer, his hands wandering down your backside before landing on your rear, “I mean I don’t blame him, you are very attractive and the best girl I’ve been around in a long time, but he probably has millions of girls begging at his feet. He’s got to leave you alone.”

Mark stood at the other end of the table watching the interaction, the cup he was forced to chug about to succumb to his tight grip. 

“Yeah, millions…” you whisper before aiming at one of his cups and it ultimately missing.

“You know I’ve been thinking about something, something about us…” Seungcheol says as he reracks the cups, “I was thinking about locking us down before Christmas time, how does that sound?”

Seungcheol’s words felt uncomfortable as they sat in your heart. You didn’t like having this conversation with Mark just a yard or so away. It didn’t feel genuine. It felt like a petty attempt to ward Mark away from you. A trophy to hang off his shoulder. 

“What a weird thing to bring up now, hm?” you dismiss him before taking aim once again.

“Come on! We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now! I’m into you, and you are definitely into me, what’s holding you back now?”

His words deemed to be a bit too loud as Mark interrupted Seungcheol’s confession by hitting him right on the forehead with the ball.

“Whoops! Sorry dude.” Mark muses disengenuinesly. 

“Watch it bro,” Seungcheol mutters tossing the ball back, “If I didn’t know any better I would have thought it was on purpose…” 

“Just… get your head in the game,” you whisper to Seungcheol as you take the shot that Izaiah seemed to sink in the meantime. 

Seungcheol shook his head. Shortly after, you two admitted defeat as Mark sunk the last cup on your side.

The drinks seemed too keep flowing down your throat, each drink blurring the feelings of Mark and Seungcheol. You just needed to make it through the night, after that you can deal with the mess. 

As the night progresses, you start to realize that maybe you have had  indulged in one too many drinks. Your laughter became louder, your movements became slower. Seungcheol starts to notice the change in your behavior, concern etching his features.

“Hey, you okay? Maybe you should slow down on the drinks a bit yeah?” He says while steadying your rocking frame.

“I’m fine, Seungcheol! It’s Christmas, the end of the semester, let’s enjoy!” 

“Alright little angel, your wish is my command!” He chuckles before grabbing your hand and making his way towards the minibar.

The alcohol, however, takes its toll, and your antics became increasingly unpredictable. Everything seemed to happen so fast, you almost didn’t realize what was happening. Seungcheol accidentally bumps into someone while trying to guide you through the room. The person, annoyed, confronts Seungcheol.

“Watch where you’re going bro!” Yelled Mark as he stands up quickly and starts wiping at his now stained sweater.

“It was an accident okay, calm down big shot.” Seungcheol annoying says while pulling you forward.

“Didn’t seem like an accident,” Mark retorts while pushing Seungcheol.

“What the hell is your problem dude?” Seungcheol says while letting go of your hand to size him up.

“Absolutely nothing.” Mark seethes while getting closer. His eyes shift to your spinning inebriated frame.

“Let me just give my girl a drink Mark.”

“I think she’s actually ready to go, come on y/n” Mark replies while grabbing you before you fell to the floor.

“Dude, what the hell? Get your hands off of her, she’s fine. Izaiah, pour me two more shots! One for me and one for my graduate!” Seungcheol hollers while trying to pull your other arm.

“Woah I’m on a cruise!” You drunkenly sigh as they pull you both ways.

“Yo! Let go of her, she’s going to yak!” Mark shouts before just lifting you up to run you outside.

“I’m gonna yak!” You shout as Mark’s running had you bouncing up and down.

Mark made it just in time to Izaiah’s front yard before you started throwing your guts up.

“My-“

“Don’t worry I got your hair,” Mark coos as he gathers up your hair into a ponytail.

“You always know what to do Markie,” you sigh as you fell onto your side, hands massaging your stomach.

Seungcheol rushes outside with a water bottle in hand, knees falling to the ground to hold your head up.

“How did you know she was going to throw up?” Seungcheol asks quietly while feeding you the water slowly, “Did you two drink a lot before you left?”

“She says she’s on a cruise then she’ll throw up right after,” Mark smiles then joins you two on the floor, “Never surprised me.”

“Mark just tell me straight up.” Seungcheol clears his throat, “do you want my girl?”

“I’m not your girllll…” you slur with saliva dripping down your chin, “Stop calling me that!” You hiccup before starting to drift off into sleep.

Seungcheol sighs, “Mark, if you two are best friends, why did she never mention you? Why did she all of a sudden start acting weird when you showed up today? What is everyone not telling me? So tell me, are you in love with y/n?”

Mark finally took his eyes off of you to meet Seungcheol’s accusation, “Yes I love her. I never stopped.”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue, “I knew it, just from the way you’ve been staring at her! Look bro, just so we’re clear-“

Mark cuts him off, “No, just so we’re clear, she’s mine. She always has been. It was a mistake to leave her a year ago. But I’m back, and no matter how hard you try to come and take her from me, she’ll always know that I’m the one for her.”

“I won’t let you take y/n away from me. Now go back to Korea and keep singing your little songs. She’s moved on from you.”

Everything was still as the two stared each other down. Despite your in and out consciousness. You heard every word. He still loves you. After all this time, you had to admit you still loved him too. But he left, and soon he’ll leave again. You have to move on.

“What’s her favorite song?” Mark whispered.

“Sunday Morning, easy.” Seungcheol shrugs

Correct.

“What’s her favorite color?” 

“Pastel blue.”

Correct.

“Why did she want to become an English major?”

“Because she loves to write.”

“Sure, but why does she love to write?”

“I don’t know man, she just likes to write, she’s always writing.”

“She likes to write because,” Mark sighs while staring at the sky, “she has all these thoughts in her head and she needs to let them out on paper for her to think straight. She writes because she thinks if she talks, no one will remember, and her words will outlive her. She writes not because she likes it, but because she needs to. It’s her dream to have others listen to her and feel something.”

You tried to stifle the tears in your eyes, so neither of them would notice you were awake. Mark was right. He always was, he understood you in ways that you never had to convey, he just knew. 

“You’ve known her since you were kids, of course you would know that. I’ve known her for a couple months, I’m sure in time she would have told me.” Seungcheol scoffs.

“She never told me,” Mark whispers while sparring one last glance at you then brushing off his jeans, “Make sure she gets home safe, Seungcheol. She’ll want kimchi fried rice, an iced coffee, and a cut persimmon with the skin off in the morning. Take care of her for as long as she’ll let you.”

Mark leaves as Seungcheol lifts your tired frame, your eyes unable to stop the tears coming out any longer until you fell asleep on the car ride home.

—

December 9, 2023

“What do you want for Christmas?” Seungcheol asks as you two lay on the sofa at your apartment watching some cheesy Hallmark movie. You haven’t been able to move all day. Somehow the lingering feeling of a hangover lasting a week, keeping you rooted to your couch huddled in blankets.

“Ah, nothing really,” you sigh huffing as the main female protagonist kisses the lead male, “not really feeling the Christmas spirit this year.”

“What are you actually going on about?” Seungcheol laughs, “you put your Christmas tree up on November 1st. You baked snowman cookies and set up a hot cocoa bar? That is the penultimate Christmas experience!” 

You blew at your bangs and rolled your eyes before turning the TV off. 

“Christmas just presents unrealistic expectations and and gets people’s hopes up for nothing. So overrated.”

Seungcheol sighs then begin pacing the room, “I think you need to get out of the house. I know you got sick after the party, and although you can be quite the messy yet funny drunk, I have cleared you well enough to leave the apartment!”

Hungover is now an understatement. The mention of the Christmas party glazes over your eyes and your throat feels tight. 

“I miss you, y/n.”

I miss Mark.

Hold on. What the fuck are you saying? No you don’t. 

“Let’s go shopping!” Seuncheol yells while heading into your closet to find you an outfit, “head to the shower, respectfully babe, you lowkey stink.”

There’s no point in fighting him. Maybe you need some fresh air.

The mall was packed. It was buzzing with Christmas cheer, lights twinkling in every window, the smell of cinnamon and pine wafting through the air. You pull your coat tighter around her, trying to shake off the heaviness in her chest. It should’ve been the perfect day to soak in the holiday spirit, especially with Seungcheol by her side. He was grinning ear to ear, pointing out everything from festive scarves to ridiculous holiday mugs, clearly enjoying himself.

"You think you could pull off this reindeer sweater?" he teased, holding up a bright red knit with a goofy-looking reindeer plastered across it.

Y/N chuckled softly, her heart not quite in it. "You’d look way better in it," she replied, nudging him gently.

Seungcheol laughed, oblivious to the sadness clouding her thoughts. Every corner of the mall felt like a reminder of Mark. This was where they used to spend hours just loitering until they were forced to leave by security. You remembered being young and dumb teens trying different mismatched outfits and forcing each other to wear them around the rest of the day. The bright green sign of Yogurt Mountain reminding you of Mark not being able to turn off the machine ending in the frozen yogurt spilling all on the floor. The memories felt like ages ago, so nostalgic but painful. It had been a year since you two broke up, but the memories still lingered, tugging at you as you tried to shake them off.

Seungcheol’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Hey, let’s check out this store! I think I found the perfect gift for you," he said with excitement, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward a small boutique.

You forced a smile, wanting to be present, wanting to enjoy this moment with him. But your gaze always seemed to drift, catching a glimpse of the jewelry shop across the way. As luck would have it…

Mark.

He was there, casually browsing a display of bracelets and rings, completely unaware of your presence. His frame was unassuming, all dressed in black. His face was hidden beneath a baseball cap, the perfect disguise for an idol unwanting to be seen and regain even a fraction of normalcy. But you would recognize him anywhere. You froze, unable to pull your eyes away.

Seungcheol, still focused on the display in front of him, started talking about a delicate silver necklace he thought would look good on you, but you weren't listening. You watched as a few people started to notice Mark. Then, in an instant, everything changed. Paparazzi flooded the scene, cameras flashing, voices yelling his name.

Mark’s expression shifted from calm to panicked. Y/N could see the tension in his shoulders as the crowd pressed closer. He backed away, his hands shaking as he tried to escape the chaos. The noise seemed to blur, and all you could think was how this was the side of his life he probably hated most—the relentless pressure, the invasion of privacy.

Mark’s breaths became shallow, his eyes wide as he struggled to keep it together, and before you realized what you was doing, you had started toward him, concern overtaking you.

But Seungcheol called your name softly, pulling you back to reality. "Y/N? Are you okay? You seemed distracted." He looked at you, concern written on his face, and for a second, you considered telling him everything—about Mark, about how hard it was to shake the past.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

You glanced back toward the jewelry shop, but Mark was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. The moment passed, and you turned back to Seungcheol, offering him a soft smile.

"I’m fine," you said, trying to mean it. "Let’s keep looking."

–

Mark was not fine.

“Mark! What’s it like being home?”

“Mark! Who are you shopping for? Someone special?”

“Mark! Care to comment on rumors of you and fellow idol Miyeon dating?”

“Mark! Is it true you will be the new leader of the next subunit of NCT?”

Mark really though he could just keep his head down as he walked through the mall. 

“All you need is a hat to cover your face, maybe a face mask, and you’ll be fine!” He can hear his older member, Johnny in his ears. Obviously, the terrible advice from over the phone proved to be very wrong.

It was supposed to be a quick trip—get a few Christmas gifts, maybe grab something to eat, and get out before anyone recognized him. But, of course, that was too much to ask.

It started with a couple of fans who spotted him near the jewelry store. A few whispers, a camera phone raised, and within seconds, it spiraled. The murmurs grew louder, and the crowd thickened, flashing cameras following every step.

"Mark! Over here!" someone yelled, their voice cutting through the noise.

His heart raced as the mob of paparazzi and fans surged around him, closing in too quickly. They were everywhere—voices overlapping, questions hurled at him, hands reaching out. The flashing lights blinded him, the noise overwhelming as they shouted his name, desperate for a reaction.

He tried to move away, but there was no escape. His breaths came faster, shallow and uneven, his chest tightening painfully. The world spun, and his pulse thudded in his ears, drowning out the chaos for a brief moment.

He can’t breathe.

Mark’s hands trembled as he pushed through the crowd, his vision narrowing, everything becoming a blur of faces and flashes. He needed to get out. He needed air. But every step he took, the crowd pressed in closer, suffocating him.

His legs moved on autopilot, driven by the single thought of escape. That’s when he saw it—the bright, colorful sign of a Build-A-Bear store up ahead. Without thinking, he bolted toward it, slipping through the doors and collapsing against the wall just inside, the noise of the crowd finally muffled by the glass.

The smell of soft fabrics and the sound of cheery music greeted him, a stark contrast to the madness outside. His breathing was ragged, his hands still shaking as he pressed them against his knees, trying to calm the rising panic.

One of the employees, a young girl with a Santa hat on, looked up from the counter, startled. Her eyes widened when she realized who he was, but instead of rushing over, she stayed where she was, giving him space.

Mark closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of his own heartbeat, willing it to slow down. He took a deep breath, then another, the plush toys around him oddly soothing. The calm atmosphere of the shop felt like a small bubble of peace, a stark difference to the chaos outside.

"Hey," a soft voice called from nearby. He opened his eyes to see the employee standing a few feet away, holding a small teddy bear. "I thought you might want something to hold," she said gently, offering it to him with a kind smile.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking the bear, the soft fur comforting beneath his fingertips. His breathing steadied, the tension slowly easing from his body. He sank onto a nearby bench, clutching the bear to his chest like a lifeline.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, still catching his breath.

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Take your time," she said before quietly retreating back to the counter, leaving him in peace.

For a few minutes, Mark just sat there, cradling the bear and letting the panic subside. Outside the store, he could see the paparazzi through the glass, still waiting, still searching for him. But for now, inside the Build-A-Bear, he was safe, wrapped in a strange, quiet comfort that he desperately needed.

After some time, Mark was finally able to stand. With wobbly knees he lifted his eyes, his sweaty palms finally loosening his grip on the small bear. Taking in his surroundings, he finally realized how pathetic he felt. How alone he felt. Most of the crowd has disappeared by that point, probably escorted out by security due to the safety concerns. 

“I’m sorry for the startle,” he finally spoke to the girl at the register.

“No need to apologize,” she smiled, “it can’t be easy living like this huh?” she softly says. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

Mark felt like he needed to pace so he roamed the plush store, feeling comforted by the empty skins of the various options. In a weird way, he related to this sad, sad, shell of a bunny. 

He held up it’s limp body, it’s smile sewn on, never to be changed. But it was empty. 

“This is the life I chose, this is the life I will love,” he whispers holding the sagging brown bunny close.

“Do you wanna stuff it?” The girl from the register asks from behind, “they’re kind of weird when they are all sitting there sad and limp like that, but I swear they come out very cute. Great presents too!”

Mark contemplated for a moment before agreeing. 

“I’ll lead you through it okay? It’s kind of weird but I am obligated to do the heart ceremony with you,” she giggles. 

“Rub your heart in your hands for warmth.” 

Mark closes his eyes and rubs his hands imaging warmth. The last time he felt true warmth was an embrace from you.

“Pat your heart, for your friends heart beat forever,”

Mark pats his chest while clearing his throat. Has his heart really kept beating since leaving you?

“Rub it on your head, for smart thoughts,”

Mark chuckles at the thought. His little scholar… he can imagine you with your hair up in a claw clip chewing at the tip of an apple pencil planning out your paper… his little graduate.

Fuck. 

His graduate. 

You graduate next week.

“I see that you have someone in mind…” the girl laughs while she picks up the bunny, “if you’re looking for a sign, I’ll say it. Yes, you should give it to her.”

Mark perks up, “do you have any graduate outfits for the bunny?”

She laughs while taking the bunny out of his hands prepping to stuff it with fluff, “slow down there mr. romantic, we will dec out this bunny in no time.”

Mark walked out 30 minutes later with two boxes and a new pep in his step.

It’s time to get his girl back.

---

LET'S GO MARK!!! orrrr are you team seungcheol???

have a happy new year everyone <3

xoxo

foreva mark

[putschki1969]

Get Ready for Kalafina on Anisong Premium Radio

DOWNLOAD the FULL EPISODE HERE (MP3 ~50MB) Added it to my "Kalafina Media Appearances" folder. What a blessing to finally be able to update that folder again!!

Wahhhhh, we got another group shot of the girls promoting their upcoming radio appearance (Source & Source & Source & Source & Source & Source & Source) and this time, it's so freaking cute!! I can't handle this!!! Absolutely adorable💙🖤🤍🥹

It’s been 6 years since Kalafina appeared on radio together🥳 Before their comeback performance next year, a 2 hour special will be aired on radio✨ You can listen LIVE on the “NHKラジオ らじる★らじる”WEBSITE HERE. However, you will need VPN to access since it is region-blocked. There’s also an “NHKラジオ らじる★らじる” app which you can download but again, VPN is required!📱 📻Screen-recording is not possible on the app so I will have to figure out a way to record the stream on the webbrowser. Hopefully it will work. Usually you can download archived radio programs on the site Radiko,jp (VPN required) but this particular program only seems to be available for premium users

Date/Time: 12/31 (Tue) 14:00~ 16:00 Radio Channel: NHK-FM MCs: Oishi Masayoshi, Asada Haruna Link: https://www.nhk.jp/p/rs/X7W4K87Q2K/

Will try to post some live updates during the broadcast but it depends on the stability of my stream/VPN〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

We are starting strong with ♪heavenly blue♪ BGM!!

Hearing them together just introducing themselves is special *sobs* Wakana says she was a bit nervous when they first started rehearsing because it had been so long but then it was like riding a bike, everything came back immediately when they were in the midst of it. Keiko was once again reminded of the difficulty of singing Kalafina songs, it was bot a refreshing as well as an exhausting feeling. Hikaru felt happy to hear this unique music resound again that can only be created with their three voices.

One big change everyone commented on was Hikaru's hair XD

The girls were as moved by their first pictures together as their fans. Seeing themselves together was a precious feeling and reminded them that Kalafina was still a thing.

1st Memorable Song of Kalafina's Historia is ♪oblivious♪ chosen by Wakana and Hikaru. Wakana chose it because of its special place in their discography (being their debut song and all). Hikaru chose it because it was the first song she listened to back then when she wasn't a member yet and considered applying at the audition. Her initial reaction was that her voice was completely unsuitable for this sort of music :P Nonetheless, she gave the audition a try and the rest is history.

Keiko brought some old music sheets with her. She still keeps them all from back them and always brings them to rehearsals.

2nd Memorable Song of their Historia is ♪seventh heaven♪ chosen by Keiko because of the way it beautifully connects all of their voices for the very first time.

Impromptu acappella session before they air the song. Naturally they decided to do ♪storia♪ which has always been their go-to song for this sort of stuff. They are accompanied by the host's acoustic guitar. People will complain about Wakana's voice or whatever but I don't care, shut up! This is not the time and place! It was perfect😭

3rd Memorable Song of their Historia is ♪Lacrimosa♪ chosen by Wakana and Keiko. It was a turning point for them since back then, it was decided that they would actually get to continue as a proper group and not be disbanded after Kara no Kyokai. Also, according to Keiko, the 8/6 time signature makes it very special. The host adds some technical trivia about time signatures and such and praises the complexity of the song.

4th Memorable Song is ♪Ongaku♪ chosen by Hikaru and Keiko. For Keiko it's such a great song because of Wakana's cool solo moment (Super!Wakana😂) where she gathers all of her strength and courage to stand in the center to belt out those high notes while being cheered on by Keiko and Hikaru. And then it's nice to see how proud Wakana is of herself when she did a good job. Hikaru picked it because it's a live staple and basically their "engine". It raises the tension and gives them power. Parts of the lyrics are also the inspiration for their infamous "maiyaiya" which they always do before every live.

Their 5th song is ♪Magia♪ (also picked by Keiko and Hikaru). The hosts are very excited about it. The impact of the song is so strong that they had no choice but to choose it. It makes you really feel like you are going crazy just like Mami from Puella Magi Madoka Magica (マミられてる). The host says it's such a traumatic experience to listen to it. The jarring difference between the cute visuals of the anime and the dark vibe of the ending is mind-blowing.

6th song is ♪to the beginning♪ chosen by Wakana because of the memorable MV shoot. They had a very unusual catering with lots of fried food. The katsudon Wakana ate back then remains one of the best she's ever had. She typically doesn't even eat a lot of fried food but that was an exception. So incidentally, the MV is probably the only time fans will have ever seen the way Wakana looks after she's eaten something like this (fantastic if you ask me :P). Keiko adds that this is also their most popular song when they perform overseas. Nothing gets their overseas audiences as hyped as this song.

7th song is ♪ring your bell♪ chosen by all of them. It was very challenging for Wakana due to the speed and high notes (lots of talk about her f# and the shark necklace she designed as merch). Waaaahhh, another impromptu acappella session. I think they really nailed that part of "ring your bell" and I'm usually not even a huge fan of the song. Wakana did so well on her high note but then immediately deflated (poor girl) while Keiko and Hikaru continued for a bit. LOL.

8th (and last) song of their Historia was chosen by the host Oishi. He picked ♪Alleluia♪ because it left such a huge impression as the final song of their 10th Anniversary Live. Wakana loves it because of its link to their origin Kara no Kyokai and the moving lyrics. it also showcases many new facets of Kalafina.

Afer finishing the Historia corner, it's time for Special Anisong Corner" where everyone introduces their favourite anisong. Oishi appears to be a really big Kalafina fan and says that the anisong world wouldn't be the same without them. He says they are a true treasure for this genre.[YES, THEY ARE!!!!!]

Wakana picks "Mononoke Hime". It was one of the songs she would always perform together with her mother (on piano) when she was a kid. Coming as a surprise to no one, Keiko picks "Anpanman's March" from Anpanman. She's always been such a huge fan of the anime. Hikaru picks "Card Captor Sakura"'s "Platina" because she has always been a huge fan of Clamp (especially "Magic Knight Rayearth" with the main character also being named Hikaru).

Last corner is Oishi introducing a recent anisong that he wants everyone to listen to. He picks the OP "Lilac" by Mrs. GREEN APPLE for the anime titled "Boukyaku Battery".

And that's a wrap. Fitting BGM with ♪into the world♪ Wakana is happy, excited and feels super grateful about the upcoming Kalafina live. Keiko feels so happy to get to meet the other two on a regular basis for preparations and rehearsals. It's a blessing to see all those meetings in her schedule and it immediately cheers her up. Hikaru is also grateful to be able to finally sing all those songs together with the other two and have unique "conversations" with the audience that couldn't be possible if it were just herself.

Not a single mention of Yuki Kajiura during these entire two hours, lots of people are commenting on that. I'll leave that info here without really adding anything to it. It's par for the course I guess, I don't blame them for it...

[radioisntdead]

AHAHHAHAHSHSHHD I HAVE A REQUESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IF YOU DON'T MIND BUT CAN YOU DO A HUSBAND ALASTOR X CRYBABY READER

Good evening my dear! Indeed I can!

I'm on a songfic fix at the moment so hopefully you don't mind me turning this into one, if you do just let me know and I can write a proper oneshot, drabble or headcanons

Crybaby

Warnings:

Murder, Alastor being weird, mild angst, OOC, the ending is a bit muddled because lack of motivation hit me like a TRUCK.

The song I chose for obvious reasons

You seem to replace your brain with your heart, You take things so hard and then you fall apart

You always had what one would call a bleeding heart, tears would overflow at the slightest instance, you fell onto the ground? Tears, you saw a rabbit munching on a carrot? Tears fell because it was just SO cute, you sobbed as you stabbed a guy to death, blubbering out apologies saying you wouldn't have to do it if he had JUST kept his mouth shut and didn't say those awful, awful things.

You try to explain, but before you can start

You met Alastor when the two of you were alive, he was an aspiring radio host at the time and well, your father ran a rather popular radio station.

Those "Cry baby" tears come out of the dark

You were considered the favorite child, (or the only child depending on the route you go) and Alastor knew that, he wasn't above using people to climb up the social ladder.

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Everything was planned out, like how the two of you met, he found out what places you frequented, choosing a cafe to be the place to run into you.

You had accidentally poured warm coffee on his clothes, you cried out apologies as you patted him dry with napkins, offering to pay for drycleaning.

You pour it out where everyone can see

And that was it, it started with him charming you, asking you out for coffee, lunch, dinners and eventually he had you hooked.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

Him eventually catching feelings for you was just the icing on the cake, a bonus, you and him felt similarly to certain affections.

His mother quite liked you as well asking him to bring you by again when you met her the first time.

You pour it out where everyone can see

As the relationship grew, he became a prominent radio personality, eventually proposing to you leading to marriage.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Alastor was supposed to be working late that night, you weren't expecting him to come home as you washed the blood off of your hands, blood stained the bathroom sink, dried tears leaving faint streaks on your face.

But you don't fucking care

"Mon étoile?"

You slowly turned around as if you were in a horror movie, the one person you didn't want to see you like this.

Cry baby, cry baby

You burst into tears falling onto the ground, not even trying to explain yourself, Alastor grinned and moved next to you, gently wiping away your tears taking silent joy from them.

So you laugh through your tears

You laughed as Alastor gave a light smooch onto your face.

Cry baby, cry baby

And that begun a new era of your relationship,

You'd act as bait luring in the folks you and Alastor felt like taking away their living privileges.

'Cause you don't fucking care

You lived like that for years, taking many lives, shedding many tears, a killer couple.

Tears fall to the ground

Unfortunately all good things come to an end.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor went to dispose of a body while you cleaned up the aftermath.

You'll just let them drown

The police showing up and breaking the news to you that your dearest Alastor was shot in the head and attacked by dogs shattered you.

Cry baby, cry baby

You spent your days crying, barely being able to organize a funeral that no one other then you attended, after all who would attend the funeral of a murderer.

You're all on your own and you lost all your friends

You were alone now, sure your family urged you to move back home, you were still a sweetheart with a bleeding heart to them, you just fell for Alastor's schemes, that no one saw coming.

You spent your days crying, clinging on to any remnants of Alastor, your social life took a huge hit.

You told yourself that it's not you, it's them

They whispered behind your back, theorizing if you were apart of the murders or not, if you knew, if you were truly innocent.

You're one of a kind and no one understands

You were found dead in your home, alone.

But those "Cry baby" tears keep coming back again

You woke up in hell, you knew you probably weren't going to heaven but still!

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Tears swelled up in your eyes but you wiped them away before they could fall deciding to look around and assess your situation.

You pour it out where everyone can see

Wandering around you passed by a shop with a radio present in it, reminding you of your dear Alastor.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

The tears started pouring, and before you could do anything else, someone touches your shoulder.

You pour it out where everyone can see

You've been down below for who knew how long now, bring found by Mimzy of all people, a good friend of yours, and Alastor's.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Mimzy showed up at Alastor's home banging on the front door, you stood a few feet away from her, He opened it displeased at the sudden visit but he smiled wide nonetheless.

"Mimzy dear, pray tell why you are banging on my door at this unholy hour?" He asked, simply hearing his voice the waterworks began as Mimzy pulled you out from where you stood.

But you don't fucking care

Alastor's eyes ever so slightly widened, it hadn't been that long since he died, he suspected you would follow suit eventually but not this quickly.

Cry baby, cry baby

"I believe this one is yours, they've been crying on and off, it's driving me crazy" Mimzy said shoving you into Alastor as you grinned up at him through blurry eyes

So you laugh through your tears

"I missed you." You said as Alastor touched your face, brushing a claw over it, you, much like him and every other sinner looked different from when you were alive, you had permanent gold tear streaks stitched into your face, how ironic.

Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor simply grinned, wiping away a tear.

"You haven't changed a bit, Mon étoile."

'Cause you don't fucking care

"You can pay me back for reunitin' ya lovebirds later!"

Mimzy laughed before running off to do who knows what, making a swift exit for plot convenience.

Tears fall to the ground

And that was that, you were finally reunited.

You'll just let them drown

While Alastor was given the name of The Radio demon you were referred to as the Crying demon,

How original.

Cry baby, cry baby

While Alastor stuck fear with a smile, hearing you wail in the distance stuck fear into others, you'd apologize as you ripped sinners apart just like you did in life.

You'll just let them drown

You watched as Alastor developed a cannibalistic taste for sinners, he opted to bring you sinner hearts as a token of affection,

You teared up from how sweet the extremely messed up act was.

Cry baby, cry baby

You also watched as Alastor's personal hygiene got worse, to the point where you'd chase him down with a sponge and a bucket of water, or before bed with a toothbrush and some toothpaste.

Much to his chagrin he was never able to escape you chasing him.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor's more sadistic tendencies were revealed in full force, with him biting and pinching your cheeks just hard enough to make you cry.

It wasn't a deal breaker but it did weird you out at first.

I look at you and I see myself

Alastor brought you to the Hazbin hotel after Husk and Niffty were pulled from wherever,

You quickly gained an affection for the hotel and it's residents, Alastor may have been using the hotel for his own entertainment but you genuinely believed in Charlie's dream of redeeming sinners.

And I know you better than anyone else

Becoming another parental figure for the princess you showered her with advice and familial affection, saying if you had a child you'd want them to be just like her.

And I have the same faucet in my eyes

Vaggie wasn't spared from the parental affection either, Alastor might not have been fond of her but you were.

So your tears are mine

You eventually became like the hotels therapist, a very prone to crying therapist but a therapist none the less.

You and Charlie tended to cry together especially if the two of you decided to put a emotionally charged movie on for movie nights

They call me cry baby, cry baby

You cried when extermination day happened, taking out exorcists left and right, your tears were filled with anger as you witnessed what happened to Sir Pentious.

But I don't fucking care

You cried tears of joy when the hotel was rebuilt and when Alastor came back from wherever he was.

Cry baby, cry baby

"You are an complete and utter MORON,"

"Mon étoile, W̴̝̖͙̩̹̓͆̏͌̒̔̑͐̕h̶͔̲̄ă̵̟̥͙̥͖͚̋̍̓̓̇̕ţ̶̧͇̞̟͈͔͉̦͋̄͂̌́̉͗ ̸̛̟̖̰͛͐̂̌̃d̷͎͍̦̩̯̂̐̈́̒̇͜ͅï̷̙͎͙̱̲̾̓̓̂d̵̛̛̲̤̺̟͒̈́̽́̑̈́̈͜͠ ̴̬̥̱͓̊̒͛ȳ̶̢̢̛̛̘͓̱̱̭̩̣͈̈́̀͋͘͝ő̴͓̜̥̪͇͙͉̞̜ủ̴̢̖͙̞͈̳̈́̑̋̂̉̈ ̵̩̈́̋̂̾̓̎̌̕̚j̶̛̗̲͚͖̼̻̥͕̚ù̸̫̯̎s̷̛̹̠̠̰͇̬̟̤͖̃̋͋ť̵͇̹͕̞͌ ̵̢̹͖̯͆̀̽́̎̐̐̽̆̃c̴͍̼̤̓̉̃̒̕͠a̶͖̙̭͂͋̓l̸̢̧̨͙̯̹̯̱̳̏̈́̀l̷̡͖͉̟̼̳̹͙̏́̄̃͋ͅ ̶̧͓͍͑m̶̨̡̠̖͇̫͓̅̈́-̷̞̱̪͓̞̅̈́͊̇̎̐͝"

"Don't pull that radio demon bullshit with me right now Alastor! How hard was it to arm yourself? You aren't invincible to ANGELIC WEAPONS!"

You shouted at Alastor as you paced around your newly restored shared room, first aid kit open, bandages wrapped around, angry tears in your eyes.

If you were anyone else, you would be dead for rubbing salt into the still aching wound.

Alastor sighed and swung one leg over the other, crossing his arms intending to wait until your 'temper tantrum' was over.

I laugh through my tears

Normally he rather liked your tears, in a Alastor way, but they were annoying to him in this instance.

Cry baby, cry baby

You grabbed his face, locking your eyes with his,

"You could've died, You would've left me again."

"Dearest,"

"Al,"

"I won't leave you again."

"Promise?"

You asked dropping your hands from his face only for him to hold them in his hands.

"Promise."

'Cause I don't fucking care, Tears fall to the ground

With the hotel rebuilt, bigger, more grand then before, sinners began to trickle in.

Wanting to give redemption a shot,

Some wanted to see someone they knew that more then likely ended up going above, some had nothing left to lose, some just wanted to change, hating what they've become since they fell below.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

You quite liked how things were developing, seeing Charlie's face light up when hotel residents improved, getting clean from addiction, proving to be better.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor originally got involved in this place for his own entertainment or otherwise, bringing you with him, he didn't think that his darling crybaby of a wife would get attached.

But maybe he was getting attached too, not that he would ever admit it even to you.

You'll just let them drown, They call you cry baby, cry baby

You and Alastor sat comfortably on the couch in his radio tower, with you laying on his shoulder, his arm gingerly wrapped around you.

I just let them drown

"Al, look how cute they are!"

You said as you held your phone to Alastor, you had to remove a few qualities in order to keep the phone, you didn't mind since you mostly used it to communicate with the hotel residents or look at animal videos on the Internet anyways.

He simply hummed as he grimaced at the phone, you were trying to show him a group of hellborn kittens,

"We should get a cat,"

"We already have a cat."

"Husk doesn't count."

You said frowning as Alastor moved his hand to your cheek, pinching it until tears swelled up in your eyes.

Cry baby, cry baby

You were sobbing at the red creature you held in your arms,

"It's adorable!" You sobbed out holding the catlike creature that you found on the side of the road much to Alastor's displeasure you wanted a cat, and you got a cat thingy

"It looks like Alastor."

"Exactly!"

Alastor squinted at the cat thing you were crying with pride over, he would throw the damned thing out the window but unfortunately you were already attached, and he preferred you to cry over literally anything else other then the failed clone of his.

You'll just let them drown

Good evening folks! Thanks for tuning in! I scheduled this for Saturday so that should mean this is the last of the songfics! [For now anyways] [post-post edit, I LIED THERE WILL BE MORE SONG FICS THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING]

I wanted to go more into how Alastor would probably enjoy the readers crying but it got a little too weird.

Have a wonderful weekend folks!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life in the City 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: Probably calling in today. Also will hopefully be working on more Dirty Work for tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’ve been waiting for Friday all week. You need this. A girl’s night, just you and Melanie, a bottle of wine, a bowl of popcorn, and your favourite nostalgic blockbuster. You even got a brand new pair of cozy jammies for the occasion.

And it’s your first official get together at your new apartment. Your very own. No more roommates, no more arguments over dishes and dust and a shared bathroom. It’s all yours! It’s almost like a housewarming, even if it is just a bachelor suite.

A new home, a new city, and an old friend. You haven't seen Melanie in years. You keep in touch here and there but she always seems to have so much going on. Now you're in the same place, it won't be so hard.

You bounce in the door, excited to get started on your prep. You leave your work bag in the entryway beside your shoes as your mind runs a mile ahead of you. You’ll fold out the futon couch and throw all your pillows on it. And the extra comforter can go on top. And you’ll put a scarf over the lamp, oh, and you got some candy for the spread. 

It’s a bit childish but it’s been so long since you could just throw away your daily toil and forget. No overtime, no grind, just a night to reconnect and refresh. You grab your bag from the short hallway and take out the clay masks you bought at the drugstore on your way home, you thought that would be so cute!

You pull out your phone and search for the digital rental on your account, wanting it ready to cast as soon as Melanie’s there. Your screen suddenly lights up with an incoming call, interrupting your browsing. You answer, excitedly greeting your best friend.

“Melly Bean,” you chime, “I was just getting everything ready–”

“Oh, really?” Her voice is willowy, “that’s… I’m sorry.”

“What?” You clutch your hand in front of your stomach, your chest filling with dread. You know that tone.

“I totally forgot and I made other plans–”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s shitty but I really can’t cancel and we can do it next week, right? I’ll host. I have a bottle of rose here, or I could make some sangria–”

“Uh, yeah,” you feel like you’ve been punched, “yeah, sure, that’s… that’s fine. Things happen.” You shake your head at yourself as you try to stem your disappointment, “good thing I didn’t even get started…” You look at the futon, covered in pillows and the fluffy pink duvet, “I actually just got in the door, long day at work–”

“You ready?” A distant, deep voice creeps under your rambling from the speaker.

“Sorry, I gotta go,” she interrupts, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Again, I’m sorry. I’m so stupid. I should’ve put it in my calendar.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure her softly, “call me. Talk later, Mel–”

The line dies before you can finish your sentence. You pull the phone away and frown at the timed out call. You sniff and toss it onto the futon. Well, you can still have a good night. Alone. Catch up on a show and pamper yourself. Your skin is getting a bit patchy.

Or just lay here and watch the same thing you watch every night. Suddenly, you have no energy. You flop onto the mattress, the metal frame creaking loudly, and sigh. Another lazy night, all by yourself.

🏙️

Melanie doesn't answer your call on Saturday. You try not to dwell on it but you know she's not working. Her nine-to-five keeps her planted at her desk Monday to Friday, just like you. Well, you can't be mad at her for having a life.

She texts on Sunday. Just a short but sweet confirmation for next Friday. A heart emoji along with a promise that you'll see each other then. You can bring all your snacks and the face masks, and even your cute new pajamas. Her place must be a lot nicer than yours on her executive assistant salary.

A new week begins but Monday isn't as difficult as usual. You have something to look forward to. Again. This time, it will actually happen.

You spend your days with the spreadsheets and menial reports. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday all blend together into an endless slog but Friday comes around with a special shine. It's the day. 

You breeze through the day, lighter than usual. You even packed everything up so you could commute straight to Melanie's place. She's been texting, saying she's excited. Well, she sent a message at 10:38am. 

It'll be just like in high school, when you sat up all night and giggled. Except this time, you're not too young for the movie you're watching. No, you'll be just like the metropolitan women you watched on the screen, gal pals!

You take the twelve out towards the east side of the city and get off a few blocks from her building, at least according to your GPS. You walk in a full circle before you get your bearings and end up just outside the grated door. You tap the small button to buzz her number and wait. It's a lot fancier than your apartments.

You ring several times without answer, your stomach swimming with nerves. What if she got caught up in something? Could she forget in the  eight hours since her last message? Are you in the wrong place? You check the address again.

You hear someone come up the walkway and sidle aside to let them in. You consider sneaking in after them but you don't know if you should. They might not like that or you might get in trouble. You stand back as the man glances at you and gives a nod. He keys in a code and buzzes himself in. You scrunch your lips, helplessly floundering on the edge of the steps.

"Coming in?" He holds the door.

"Oh, uh," you catch the handle, "sure, I just... my friend wasn't answering."

"No worries, don't look like much of a criminal to me," he kids.

You chuckle quietly, forcing it out nervously as you follow him inside. The entryway is white with silver trimmings and the lobby opens up to a set of two elevators. You look at your phone again, confirming Melanie's apartment number. The man strides on confidently and hits the button, the doors dinging and sliding apart.

"Going up?" He prompts as he puts his hand in front of the censor.

"Uh, sure," you scurry forward. You suppose taking the stairs might be a lot with all the weight in your knapsack.

"Floor?" He trails you into the elevator.

"Um, seventh."

"Ah, what a coincidence," he taps seven and the doors close.

You bring up your chat with Melanie and text her. Hopefully, you're not too early. You don't want to surprise her. You key in that you're there and on your way up.

The door open again and the stranger once more lets you through first. You check the numbers on the plates on the wall; 700 - 710 to the right. You turn and the man heads in the same direction. How awkward. You hold the door to the hallway for him and he catches it, not far behind you. You count the doors until you find 704. 

You stop and knock, stepping closer to let the stranger pass. He doesn't. He stops and laughs as he rubs his palms together. You peek over at him. Oh shoot, you have to be in the wrong place. It explains the no answer and you're standing at his door knocking. You must seem like a crazy person--

The door opens before you can figure out what's going on and Melanie's 'hello' goes from a high squeal to dull disappointment. You look at her as her eyes flit between you and the stranger at your shoulder. She laughs and tosses her hair back.

"Oh, uh, come in," she waves you inside, "movie night, right?"

She rubs her neck as she steps aside, your stomach flipping entirely. Did she forget? Really?

"Um, I forgot to mention..." she says slowly, "Clark's joining us. He's never seen the movie before so I thought..."

"That's fine, but er, I can... just go. I thought..."

"I didn't forget," she insists as the man enters with hesitation, "promise, I just... invited my boyfriend."

"Right, boyfriend," you turn to the stranger, Clark, she said his name is, "hi."

You introduce yourself and he repeats his name. He's handsome and tall. As far as you can tell, he's nice too. The cleft in his chin gives him a rugged handsome news and his eyes a bright and blue. He fits Melanie perfectly. She's changed a lot more than you knew.

You give a strained smile and look around. Her apartment is so nice. You're happy she hadn't seen yours after all. As you try to figure out what to do, she approaches Clark and stands on her toes to kiss him. You keep your eyes on the floor and turn, distracting yourself with your shoes as you peel them off.

"I brought snacks," you say as you unhook your bag from one shoulder, "for the movie--"

"Oh, I'm on a diet. No carbs, no sugar... mostly water and lettuce," she trills, "sorry."

"I...It's okay," you try not to wince as you struggle to free yourself of the heavy bag.

"Here," Clark startles you as he grabs your bag by the handle on top and helps lift it off your left shoulder. You pull your arms free and he carries it to the table, planting it on top beside the tall vase of white orchids. 

"Thanks," you say as you inch forward, anxious about messing up the unlivable pristine apartment, "you can share the snacks... if you're not on a diet."

"I'd love to," he accepts, "should I make up the couch?"

"Uh, sure," Melanie flutters her fingers at him, "I guess that makes sense."

You notice how she bites into her glossy lower lip and looks around desperately. She's wearing a pretty black dress and there's a sparkly clutch on the half-circle table by the wall. You thought Melanie would be your one piece of home in the city but now you feel even more out of place. Uninvited.

"If it's a bad time," you begin.

"I told you," she snips, "I didn't forget. Duh, you think I'm an airhead or something?"

"N-no--"

"I know you went and got your fancy degrees," she sniffs, "but I don't need paper to tell me I have a brain."

"I didn't mean--"

"Mel, cool it," Clark chuckles lightly, "no biggie. I like a night in," he shrugs, "I'll grab some blankets and pillows. We can have a sleepover."

"Sleepover?" She nearly hisses at him, "well, tomorrow--"

"We'll all sleep in and I'll take you ladies to breakfast. Or brunch," he unzips your knapsack and takes out the tall bottle of wine, "depending on how much you indulge." 

"Oh, I can take care of all that," you offer as you near the table.

"You're our guest," he insists as he holds onto the bottle, "hon, you wanna get some glasses?"

You hear the gentle sigh escape Melanie before she replies, "fine."

You wring your hands in front of your chest and hover by the table. You hate this. You feel like you've intruded on their night but you thought...

Your heart sinks as you think of the message; 'looking forward to tonight'. She sent it to the wrong person. She must realise that too.

"Mel will pour us some wine," Clark says loudly, "did you wanna help my grab some blankets and stuff?"

You just nod, thankful for his diversion. Anything to keep you from wallowing in your embarrassment. Everyone there knows you're not supposed to be there. You must seem pathetic.

You follow him down the hall and wait on the other side of the closet door as he opens it. He hands you a folded down duvet. He sends you back to the living room as he goes to grab pillows from the bedroom. You get a glance of the sleek white vanity just as he opens the door.

You turn and traipse back to the front room. You go to the couch and shake out the blanket. You glance over as Melanie slurps loudly from a stemmed glass, the other two are unpoured.

"Really, Mel, I can just go--"

"No, it's fine," she huffs, "I don't want him to think I'm some sort of bitch."

"Oh, I wasn't--"

"You don't call to confirm?" She accuses.

"I texted and I buzzed--"

She shushes you as she hears Clark coming back down the hall. You leave the blanket across the sofa and go to the table. You pour the other two glasses and step back, too uneasy to claim one of your own. Instead, you busy yourself unpacking the snacks but you don't even know if you'll have any yourself.

"You girls sit," Clark insists as he drops the pillows on the sofa, "I'll get everything ready. Oh, hon, you should go put some pajamas on, get in the spirit. You could lend some to your friend too."

"Erm, I brought my own," you offer, "just... thought they were cute."

"Amazing, you two get changed, get cozy, and get the movie going," he grabs the bag of chips from your hands, "oh, and I'll get those kernels popping."

You nod and swallow as Melanie struts out without looking back. You retrieve your pajamas from your bag, brushing close to Clark by accident, and apologise. You quickly flit away to follow her, chasing after her right before she can close you out. You need to find an excuse to get out. Then you can think of how to say sorry for spoiling her date,

[therealvinelle]

Thoughts on Bara Bada Bostu?

Anon is referring to Sweden's surprise Eurovision entry of 2025, Bara Bada Bastu ("Only Bathe Sauna").

Why this is a surprise

Eurovision, for those not familiar with it, is a historic song competition where each competing country contributes an original song of 3 minutes length or less. Initially a very serious competition where contestants had to sing in their country's national language and they were judged on such criteria as lyrical and vocal quality, the event has since gained infamy for being more of a cultural continent-wide party with celebrated and observed traditions and peculiarities than a song contest.

One peculiarity is the way you know what to expect from the entries submitted by different countries, and regions. Moldova is often fun and wacky, the French are fiercely French, the Brits and the Germans compete for last place, and on a wider basis you can count on the different regions of Europe to submit entries that feel culturally rooted. Also worth noting that Moldova can and will submit ballads, the French will debase themselves with dubstep the same as the rest of us and the Brits and Germans can deliver good songs, but these are stereotypes and expectations that linger.

One such expectation that has seemed particularly true, however, is that Sweden will always, every year and without fail, deliver a pop song that is sung in English, does well with the jury, and that lets your mind drift away to thoughts of David Guetta or Imagine Dragons.

A quick look at Sweden

I admit I am a Sweden hater where Eurovision is concerned, in no small part because in 2023 they sent one of their old winners, Loreen (here is her winning song from 2014), let her do a song that I and many others found uninspiring (you may decide for yourself what you think), and then, in arguably the biggest jury steal in the competition's history, she received such an overwhelming portion of the jury vote that the runner-up would have needed over 90% of the total audience vote to win. Bad on paper, much worse when the runner-up was a huge audience favorite that people felt strongly about.

In other words Sweden, which already had the second highest number of Eurovision wins, sent one of their past winners with a jury-tailored song that went on to win in a way that left many with a sour taste in their mouths.

(More to the point, Sweden had cemented that they will always, invariably, compete with English language songs like Loreen's that have very little to do with Sweden as a country, culture, or language, and the juries will never stop being impressed by Sweden playing it safe.)

It appeared they had learned little from this, or at least that Måns Zelmerlöw (Swedish winner in 2015. For no particular reason I'm also going to link to David Guetta's Lovers on the Sun.) did not read the room as he, a loud and proud Eurovision enthusiast and former winner as well as host, thought he should do exactly what Loreen did and sign up to represent Sweden again, on what would have been the 10-year-anniversary of his victory.

He thus signed up for Sweden's Melodifestivalen, the competition that would nominate an artist to represent Sweden in this year's Eurovision.

The upset

He was favoured to win with his inspiring song Revolution, which was about revolution.

He instead lost to the Finnish band KAJ who had written a Swedish and Finnish language song about saunas.

This will be the first time Sweden submits a non-English language song in over twenty years, and coincidentally is the first time as far as I can remember that they've sent something fun, catchy, and actually connected to Swedish culture.

The fallout

Hopefully, this can be the beginning of something new for Sweden. I don't know if I want the song to win: it's fucking fantastic, and it would serve the Swedes right to have this song win and make it impossible for them to forget about it next year, but I also want other countries to get a chance.

So far however, KAJ are a massive favorite in the odds but one critic I read blamed TikTok for the silly derpy song winning over Zelmerlöw's serious quality song, which makes me fearful we might be back to normal next year.

Alas, one can hope.

(And to be clear: I don't think Eurovision should be a wacky lulzfest, that's not what I want at all. I do however think the juries sometimes appear to have watched a different show than the audience did, and it is often difficult to understand how their criteria informed their voting choices.)

[thecoffeelorian]

Fandom Friday, 04/11: Fanart!

Hello and good morning to you all, and welcome once again to another Fandom Friday. As always, this is your host Coffeelorian or if you prefer, just plain Coffee, back with another round of artwork from around the vast fandom that is Star Wars.

Before we get moving, however, let me first pass on a few quick announcements—first, with Star Wars Celebration happening in Tokyo next week and myself with not much money, good scheduling, or a strong grasp of the Japanese language…I’m afraid that I’ll have to remain here in the states instead, but fear not! Next week, I plan to offer up the next chapter to three of my current Star Wars-related fanfics, so! If you’ve ever read ‘Anomaly’ (with Jod Na Nawood); “The Surprise Guest Series” (with Crosshair), or “Kiss Me, Captain” (with Captain Howzer), hopefully this coming Friday will be the day that I start adding updates for all three.

Second, if you’ve seen any of my Commander Fox memes, next weekend is also the same time period where I plan to release a masterlist of the ones I’ve done so far, so try and stay tuned for that post if it interests you in any way.

And third, I’ll probably have a few hand-drawn WIPs to share next Wednesday if things continue to go well for me…so, hopefully, fingers crossed that I can at least have the outlines inked by the end of this weekend. If so, you'll get to see the Gothified version of my original Trooper character, Commander Miles, as well as the Inquisitor version of Arc Trooper Fives...but if not, I'll just toss them into the mix the week after that and work my way up from there.

Anyways. Before I ramble too much or get lost on a tangent...here are my picks of the week!

THE PREQUELS

The Prequels Fanart--By @herd-o-bison:

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanart--By @crafftypenguin:

The Clone Wars Fanart--By @baaaaaaaam:

REPUBLIC COMMANDO

Republic Commando Fanart--By @mamuzzy-creates-stuff:

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanart--By @kaijusplotch:

The Bad Batch Fanart--By @jumpyl123:

ANDOR

Andor Fanart--By @meduzza13:

STAR WARS REBELS

Star Wars Rebels Fanart--By @mandomaya:

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanart--By @hyacinthi-mortem:

The Mandalorian Fanart--By @endeavorssimp:

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and highlight those artists who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the artists a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

If anybody likes what they see here AND would enjoy seeing more posts like this; please drop the rock star emoji (👩‍🎤) into the comments or reblogs, and I’ll be sure to tag you when the next update comes.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you, stay safe, and I’ll see you in the next post!

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @the-osborn-way @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenathegreengirl @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve @apocalyp-tech-a 

@aknightreaderr and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanart.