#anyway i love life and living in this day and age its so grand and swell and not at all stressful

[out--of--ordinary]

Crying at my potential monthly mortgage payment amount lmao wtf 🥲

[akawifeyy]

silly girl | smau (LN4)

description: the life of a comedian is full of laughter, but the biggest punchline? your experience with love.

tropes: chaos galore, he's obsessed with her, sunshine x sunshine, age gap (23 and 25), comedian!fem!reader

face claim: faith collins

trigger warnings: suggestive content, some mature jokes, swearing

| note: hehehe i love this fic 🫶

@ yourusername: dallas was incredible, i had the best time laughing with you all! a recorded video of tonight's show is posted at the link in my bio if you couldn't make it. see you next weekend in austin 😘

tagged: @ standupcomedy

comments (2567):

@ user1: Amazing shows! I went to Night 2 and I couldn't breathe, I was laughing so hard. Wish I bought tickets for the other two nights.

-> @ user2: sooo real, i got to see her in miami and i felt like my heart was going to explode from laughing

@ user3: Incredible job, so proud 💖

@ user4: Mother has fed us during this tour, I never want it to end

@ yourbffusername: SCREAMING CRYING, I love you SO much Y/N

@ f1: Just 3 more days until COTA! How are you gearing up for the Grand Prix?

tagged: @ mclaren, @ mercedes, @ redbullracing, & 6 more

comments (49584):

@ landonorris: Can't wait to be a cowboy again 🤠

@ user5: COTAAAA MY BELOVED

@ user6: so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@ user7: No because I'm actually a second away from crashing out because I just realized @ yourusername's show is at the same time as the Austin GP

-> @ user8: wait nonono you're joking 😭 i bought tickets too

10/19/25 at Y/N's Show (Transcript):

Y/N L/N: I feel like if I don't bring this up, the masses are going to come at me with pitchforks. (clearing throat) Today's a pretty big day in Austin. Um, Formula One is having its COTA Grand Prix.

Audience members: (whooping)

Y/N L/N: Yeah, looks like we have quite a few F1 fans in here. I'd kind of consider myself one, but please don't ask me what DRS stands for off the top of my head or what Ferrari's strategies are during races, because I wouldn't be able to tell you. But anyways, I found out that I scheduled this show at the same time as the GP.

Audience member: (loud yelling noise)

Y/N L/N: (breaks down laughing) Yep, I know. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. But I totally get it. Seeing a bunch of rich, hot men drive around in circles? Like, aw man, where did my pants go? I swear they were just on. (continues giggling) Seriously, though, some of those drivers? It should be illegal how attractive they are. Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris. Oh God, don't even get me started on Lando Norris.

Y/N L/N: (eyes widen dramatically) I never liked brunettes or Englishmen, but he might just make me change my mind.

Interview with Lando Norris (2025):

Interviewer: Have you seen the clips from Y/N L/N's most recent comedy show here in Austin?

Lando Norris: (laughs) Yes, I heard about it!

Interviewer: Thoughts?

Lando Norris: She's very funny. I like her sense of humor. But as for relationships, I have to focus on my racing, so I can't get distracted. Sorry!

10/20/25 at Y/N's Show (Transcript):

Y/N L/N: So... Yesterday's show. (makes popping sound with lips) Some of y'all, I feel like I need to ban you – and before you boo, let me explain why. I made jokes about Formula One drivers, and how hot they are, and a select few of you decided to out me? (mock gasp)

Y/N L/N: Yeah, I know! Fucking Lando Norris was interviewed about me! Isn't that insane? This ultra-rich motor sport driver was asked about some redhead girl who yaps for a living. And he called me funny? I need to put this on my resume.

Audience member: You two need to date!

Y/N L/N: The matchmaking is insane. Oh God, wait until my mother hears about this, then I'm actually cooked. I'm 23 years old, I have a lot of biological time left, but you're vultures! When is it going to end? And don't say, "When you get married to Lando Norris", because it's not happening. Sadly.

@ ynupdates: Contrary to popular belief, Y/N did have a boyfriend! This was way back in 2019 to 2022. His name is Emmett Ellgren, and they dated for three years until their mutual split. Since then, Y/N has poked fun at the relationship, but no substantial details have been released about their break up.

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (2942):

@ user9: HELP i forgot about emmett he's such an npc 😮‍💨

@ user10: emmett is no longer relevant to the lore

-> @ user2: The real man we should be paying attention to is Lando Norris

-> @ user8: i know omg 😭

comments (3842):

@ user11: They're both silly gooses, I'm scared to see the havoc they'll wreak together in McLaren 🥲

@ user12: i'll believe it when i see it

@ user13: Lando is too immature to have a stable girlfriend

-> @ user3: which is why Y/N's perfect, they'll be immature together 🥰

-> @ user4: This just proves you've never watched one of Y/N's shows before lmao

Y/N's Instagram Story (2025):

comments (8521):

@ user13: OMG OMG OMG IT'S STARTING

-> @ user14: I'm so glad I get to be alive during the LandoY/N era

@ user12: It'll be so funny if this turns out to be from Oscar or something 🙃

-> @ user15: HELP

Text Messages between Y/N and Lando (2025):

@ landonorris: P3 in Mexico! Awesome results

tagged: @ mclaren, @ f1, @ yourusername

comments (64312):

@ user16: ALERT ALERT Y/N HAS BEEN TAGGED

@ user13: guys i'm actually gonna combust 🫣🔥

-> @ user17: They're together, it has to be

@ yourusername: nice sombrero 😋

-> @ landonorris: Thank you!!!

Text Messages between Y/N and Lando (2025):

@ yourusername: hola mexico 🇲🇽

tagged: @ landonorris

comments (3846):

@ yourbffusername: Looks so fun!

-> @ yourusername: yes it was incredible

@ user10: laaandoooo i see you 👀

@ user18: How does it feel to be living my dream

@ landonorris: So glad you could make it, had a lot of fun talking to you

@ f1gossip: It is rumored that comedian Y/N L/N and McLaren driver Lando Norris are together, after Y/N posted a photo of her receiving paddock passes, and the pair responded to one another's posts about the Mexico Grand Prix.

tagged: @ yourusername, @ landonorris

comments (1293):

@ user9: i'm waitinggg

@ user10: this is worse than the wait for reputation tv

-> @ user18: clowning so hard i know 😖

@ user19: HAVE ANY OF YOU GUYS SEEN LANDO'S INSTA STORY? 🤯

Lando's Deleted Instagram Story:

comments (235):

@ user20: OMGOMGDSDKLSDDNS

@ user21: my eyes are not deceiving me, this is y/n

@ user5: Y/N IS THAT YOU 😳

@ landonorris: OK OK yes I give in, we are together. Happy one month, @ yourusername, I love you to the moon and back!

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (34852):

@ user21: classic Lando accidentally posting the wrong thing and outing himself

-> @ user22: idk what else we would expect from chaos incarnate 😭

@ yourusername: love you too, muppet 😘

Interview with Lando Norris (2025):

Interviewer: So, you've just recently announced that you're dating Y/N L/N!

Lando Norris: Yes, I'm really happy about it.

Interviewer: Any plans to bring her to the next race?

Lando Norris: Maybe, we'll see. (laughs and smiles) The paddock is a lot cheerier when she's there, so hopefully, fingers crossed. I'm very, very lucky to call her mine.

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom Observation Funny tags: One Piece The Emperors & Crew

Due to character limits, the funny tags post has had to be broken up into multiple parts

This part contains the tags for the Red Hair Whitebeard, Blackbeard, Big Mom, and Beast Pirates. Plus Cross Guild. Enjoy because you guys really outdid yourself

The Red Hair Pirates

Benn Beckman: "Dilf," "retirement blorbo", "Benn Beckman is a religious experience", "to me? beckman is the character with the most sex appeal ever. raw sex appeal. I would [redacted] if I met this man. just sayin", "He can ruin my life any day of the week", "Also lest we forget pre TS Beck a++ quality right there I just want someone smart who will also hit a guy with a gun is that so much to ask for", "This p**** wants what she wants and its always going to be Benn “back breaker" Beckman", husband material, "men are like wine in order to get a good vintage you want the one that's aged", he had that sexy blind and reckless loyalty about him", "Beckman is a fine aged vintage of wine as men should be", "DEAR GOD the things I WOULD DO to that man LIKE [redacted] and [redacted] because [redacted] and [redacted]", "idk how to explain it but he's so wife", "benn beckman? more like benn breastman ok sorry yeah anyways. said it before and ill say it again beckman exudes raw sex appeal like jesus christ. why would you not want to fuck this man ive had lesbian friends who said he would be an exception to them which is so real his tits are big he loves his captain he STUBBED HIS CIGARETTE IN A MAN'S EYE UNDER THE GUISE OF DEFENDING HIS CAPTAIN so fucking sexy mwah mwah beckman my wife you are so hot SO HOT. in conclusion benn breastman you will forever be a top sexyguy in my head oh also forgot to add. he canonically gets bitches which is so real. he could get me any day", "Oh dear I just realised I have a thing for older men with grey hair and have substance abuse issues I choose to believe lung cancer does not exist in opu", "Live action Benn looks like that one uncle no one wants to invite to the family reunion but has to anyway because the grandparents insisted” “Benn Fine Fucking Vintage Beckman cannot believe OPLA boxed that fine ass wine what were they thinking I'd happily spend hundreds of dollars for Becky but no they had to pawn him off as a cheap $20 boxed wine probably powdered and needs to be reconstituted yes i am that bitter this was the only bad casting call they had in S1 never forgive never forget” “I honestly loved that they made beckman just some guy you could pass on the street and not look twice at in the live action but… he's definitely not hot” “really I think mid-40s is the sweet spot for Beckman#hair is kinda salt-and-peppery; not quite black but not quite silver I cast my vote for pre-ts bc I didn't think he'd get enough votes and I like the way he looks” “I bet he's hiding a Special kind of Sea King in his pants too” “DAMN RIGHT ! my man is PACKING !” “ He should demand child support from Rayleigh because if it weren't for him, Shanks probably would have ended up dead of his drunken stupidity a long time ago under his watch. He only lost one arm, and that's because Shanks ran off by himself and was left unsupervised for 5 minutes. That's not Benn's fault.” “

Shanks: Margaritaville Himbo, "Dilflicious", "the deadbeat malewife wifi user", "I am a whole lesbian but if there were a butch girl version of these men I would let shanks ruin my life", "favorite guy in the local frat" He's probably a walking STD risk but he's hot and I'm a slut that has a thing for red heads, "the unwashed bitch", "LOOK AT THAT SCRUFF ON SHANKS the three scars on his face that smile", "my Scrungle drunk bastard", I would volunteer to be his next baby mama you know shanks got a few a dozen red haired children all over the grand line tell me I'm wrong" “early shanks is perfect in my heart he's a rapscallion!!! he looks like he giggles,” “Post Time Skip Shanks is a daddy Live action shanks feels like a goofy dad/uncle,” “ In sorry but shanks looks like markiplier” “sorry shanks your ex husbands winning this one” “I think Shank's actor is WAY hotter as a brunette” “seriously though la shanks looks like a wet rat even more than his anime counter part” “I'm voting shanks he's just so… what a dream of a man. you know?” “shanks can’t be hot his good looks don’t make up for his personality” “shanks because he would make a good dad had his ass been able to keep kids” “Shanks having the least amount of votes is actually breaking my heart it's okay Shanks I love you” “confession i lowkey dislike shanks MOTHING AGAINST HIM PERSONALLY but like the fandom treatment of him he is EVERYWHERE and does NOTHING until the wano flashbacks (his most screentime untill egghead) i did not care about him sorry” “heh lol eat dirt Shanks (this user has nothing against Shanks except that he's always beating her faves)” “shanks sweep! idk anything about one piece other than i want to fuck him probably other stuff too” “why is shanks winning. basic ass website” “still going feral over shanks” “how many times must shanks make that cheap copy bite the dust” “after this weeks episode my hot for Shanks is at an all time high sooooo👀👀one arm daddy wins this time” “dejectedly picks shanks because at the end of the day i am a fag with problems i like my men horribly unwell” “He's the biggest fuckboy to ever whore about the grand line” “Shanks got absolutely everything from Rayleigh. Swordsmanship, haki mastery, a knack for epic entrances, ugly pants, bisexuality, and a slutty, slutty lifestyle across the Grand Line. Sorry to Roger, but the kid clearly took after the other father.” “'m shocked Beckman hasn't put that boy on a leash yet oh im damn sure beck has put that guy on a leash ifykwim” “Some of us are just complete sluts, and we're totally okay with that. I'm fully self-aware, and I totally would volunteer to be Shanks's baby mama. People have been talking about the implications of devil fruits in the bedroom. I want to know if Haki has bedroom misuses.” “I would volunteer to be the maid, especially if it comes with a cute slutty maid outfit. I bet Shanks would go feral for that, and again, I'm self-aware that I'm a total ho. Plus, I wouldn't care as long as I'm getting railed by the Daddy Emperor of the Sea every night” “Dorky Shanks my beloved” “HE CANONICALLY GETS BITCHES i genuinely think only cavendish has been shown to get a bigger amount of groupies (female that is) (sanji got the whole of the g5 but thats another story) anyway my point is shanks is the most fuckable one piece character and has been since day one he was raised by silvers fucking rayleigh what else could he have turned out to be” “least my failman Shanks came in second” “

Yasopp: “VOTE AGAINST YASOPP PLEASE cause that man deserves nothing... >_> if yasopp has no haters im dead”

Cross Guild

Buggy: Assigned clown at birth, walking disaster, "my pathetic sniveling wet clown", my Beloved, "he has blue hair and pronouns", Failboy, "the skrunkly clown", "my clown wife", "he has that fail boy cringe", "buggy has the stronger levels of foolishness and fumbling his way to success", "the cringefail clown extraordinaire buggy", "he is silly and pathetic like a bisexual divorced dad",“WHY? WHY ISN'T HE WINNING? nobody here understands anything” “ know the op poll guidelines say to be kind and now belittle others for their opinions but fucking seriously ARE Y'ALL BLIND y'all have no taste none whatsoever i am ashamed and appalled vote for buggy god damnit VOTE FOR THE CLOWN the VERY HOT IRRESISTIBLE BABY GIRL CLOWN” “buggy is prettier if that makes sense#look at those lashes!” “yall dont get buggy like i do i fear” “live action buggy is succhhh a freak hes so incredibly hot its almost distracting from his greatness” “voted live action but goddamn did impel down buggy make me confused it's the scruff and the gorgeous ponytail” “YEEEEESSS buggy the clown ImpelDown!Buggy HOTTEST BUGGY yes yes yes FUCK YEAH impel down buggy i wanna manhandle that stupid disillusioned cruel manaiacal idealist clown by his beautiful ponytail i would ruin that stupid clown your honor i love him” “Out the way flame boy I’m bout to get that clown cock” “watched 4 whole episodes of one piece for buggy” “BUUGGGGYYY sorry he makes me feral” “Buggy was robbed.” “Ok so Buggy is a wet pathetic loser who fails upwards and somehow gets exactly what he wants in the worst way possible” “He came the closest to killing Luffy before Kaido. He has so much negative rizz it circled around to most eligible bachelor. Crocodile and Mohawk use him as a punching bag. He's Shanks's The One That Got Away” “Oh and he can detach his dick (and hands, and head, and tongue…)” “i dont go here but why does everyone wanna fuck the clown i dont understand l” “where are my clownfuckers at buggy is hot as hell don’t let society tell you otherwise he is literally THE sexy gender-nonconforming loser with blue hair and pronouns” “

Crocodile: desert daddy, Babygirl, "He's like if tony soprano was trans", crocodaddy, crocomommy, Big titty mob boss, He's 8ft tall and I would let he ruin me,"Mr. Sandman", "the human sandcastle," "literally has sand in his britches", "son of a beach", "World's Most Expensive Sand Sculpture", "he's got 99 problems and his hook is one of them", "casino blorbo", "I would subject myself to sandburn any day for THE SIR FUCKING CROCODILE Anakin Skywalker don't go here because I WOULD love sand if it was like 8 feet tall and had a voice like that absolutely rabid he could stick his sand in so many places and I'd thank him crocodile is one of those guys i wanted to hate so bad and then went actually no i want this guy carnally Crocodile has some weird rizz goin on and i need to climb that sandcastle", "I'm so sorry but I need to eat crocodile's pussy", "With Sir Crocodile you can have Sex on the Beach. Literally. Plus he owns a casino so you could probably sip on the cocktail version too...while getting some cocktail.", "mafia vibes and style", "crocodile's got style. class. you will be wined and dined in the most exquisite way you can imagine", "He's got DADDY vibes", " One handsome mafia boss", "I love crocodile but also i wanna punch him and i feel like hes got the sandiest pussy/dick that shit will give me a rash", "my evilest baby boy", "Crocodile invented evil trans swag just saying", "im sorry az but crocodile was my dilf awakening", "in Crocodilf we trust", “i want crocodile to put that out on me” “those rings on his big fingers are the icing on the sandy cake for me” “You can throw me into horny jail all you want but Toei did not do Crocodile any justice, manga Croc is fine as hell, a handsome middle aged sonovabitch and I swear to god by the time I'm done with him that man will be pregnant again” “He's a trans desert king and I love him. I have no other defense” “What you would get is a 8'4" dom with a cool ass style(dude had a whole outift change in impel down just cause LOL). Anon is so right tho, he really is a bond villian type huh? That's a great description ngl 😂” “Big tall sexy transmasc, need I say More” “croc is my virgo king I MUST choose him” “Mr. Sandman is very handsome despite turning into beach herpes. Look if glitter is craft herpes then sand is beach herpes” “

Mihawk: The Vampire Pirate, Goth Dad, the sword father, Pirate Dracula, the big titty goth husband, "I think mihawk would treat you right. i want mihawk to treat me right", "I love his gay wine uncle energy", "I appreciate that he dresses Like That everywhere extra ass bitch", "hot vampire cowboy pirate", Morticia Addams, "Mihawk oozes 'step on me' energy", “ow wow i really don't like mihawk in the live action i mean he's great and funny and terribly camp and reminds me of snagglepuss so i guess he fits a tumblr hotbod to a t!” “mihawk has the most ridiculous moustache known to man” “live action Mihawk was so my type in looks it was like a personal attack” “see if it was a picture of his slutty pants i might have voted for mihawk” “queuecifer” “seeing them side by side. you gotta give credit to the live action. thats just the same dude” “sorry this time it's the la the mustache just looks so much more ridiculous in live action and i love that a man who deliberately and on purpose cuts his facial hair like that is someone i have GOT to bang immediately” “dracule EASY” “everybody likes the fucking twink the most” “see, for me the reason that mihawk is hot is because he'd totally be a pillow princess which means that i'd be able to either 1) ride his face till i pass out, 2) ride his dick till i cant walk, or 3) fuck him till i cant walk. he also has cute eyes and is 'working for' one of the stupidest men to ever sail the seas” “idk man what can i tell you. dracule mihawk vampire sexy” “mihawk my beloved ❤️” “ My autistic goth dad who doesn't know how to use an air fryer”

The Whitebeard Pirates

Ace: "Depressed sunshine orphan boy with daddy issues", "ace has that grungy line cook riz you know he lays legendary pipe", " he got goofy older brother swag", "Beautiful butch dyke wife", "Ace my greasy fire narcoleptic king", "The narcoleptic babygirl", the greasy crusty desert rat. "He would be worth the burn risk", "my favorite fire donut", "something about greasy alabasta ace hits so different", "with his riz he's probably a walking STD risk but it would be worth it. Just look at him probably also probably got a couple bastard kids running around the grand line", it's ok he's still greasy in my heart worlds most feral baby boy he looks like he eats dirt I could fix him (force him to bathe regularly)" “ace has to win every* time he’s LITERALLY FIRE *excluding cases where the opponent is a similar if not more incendiary material” “i am but a sheep i voted ace bc he is my cinnamon apple” “I mean, literally? Ace. Guy's literally made of fire, course he's the hottest.” “this is a trick question obviously it's Fire Fist Ace who can literally turn into fire” “Ace is automatically hottest because he's made of fire.” “ace brainrot is real rn I clicked him so fast” “pfffftt ace's about to be put six feet under again the way he has more votes than the rest combined” “freshly made donut straight from the fryer” “ace is so hot he melted a hole is his - i mean my - heart. he's so hot that he can touch lava and live- i mean he can touch lava. Once. ace is so hot that he turned into a funeral pyre!!!!! ace is so hot his brothers had to get burned just compete ace is so hot he took fire fist literally!!! he took that phrase right to the chest!!! ace is so hot his necklace melted right off of him. ace is so hot everybody just HAD to watched him get fisted on live television. snail vision? Idk okay im done now maybe” “Ace my special little greasy fucked up guy!!! traumatized twunk who may have rabies but it’s ok” “sorry i have to vote for my greasy rat husband ♡” “I see my guy. I vote for him. simple. anyways vote Ace” “ace obliterate this man” “greasy dumpster fire man gotta get the vote” “ace my love my darling my greasy stoner sweetiepie mi chacalito hermoso the light of my life and my blunts” “

Marco: Bird daddy "Mr. Dr. Emotionally-Stable Scrungles", "surfer hippy electric blue glasses wing flapper", "DR. MMMMM", Fineapple" “Marco my favourite little bird. (/∀＼)” “Marco, my love, my darling bird, you won't win - but that's okay, cause you'll always be my 1 <3 /blushes like some little school girl/ don't look at me right now I'm being lovey dovey” “Ah, my sweet bird, you're in a poll with a lot of really hot guys, but that was still an easy vote for me <3” “MARCOOOOOOOO he's a very mild “hear me out” but he's one of mine nonetheless” “Marco!!! everyone sleeps on my favorite old man birb but that’s ok I know the truth” “marco the phoenix also im losing my mind at his talons” “Oh I would be so grateful for some love for my well-toned and taloned retirement blorbo <3” “pls vote marco he's insanely hot” “

Izou: “the things I would do to get izou to shove his gun up my ass…” "Izo is absolutely my type.” “DUDEEEE IZOU PRETTIEST MAN ALIVE IZOU genuinely i would take izou over ace <- unpopular opinion but oughhhh. he. I” “

The Blackbeard Pirates

Blackbeard: “i find Blackbeard so fucking attractive for reasons not even i can explain” “The thing is, who's those 1 percentage that vote for Blackbeard like fr what did you see??😭” “blackbeard wins by virtue of being the sole bhm here. i know he did all those other things but its fine. its okay.” “

Catarina Devon: "my problematic lesbian sugar mommy”

The Big Mom Pirates

Amande: “lowkey obsessed w amande she was soooo cool for the seconds she was on-screen 🥲”

Big Mom: “kinda unfair that Linlin got a picture of her milf phase” “young big mom has to be cheating. voted for her anyway though” “young Linlin is fine as hell tho so she takes it” “you used a picture of YOUNG big mom so yeah it's her hot damn” “

Cracker: "if Cracker just let his hair down he'd be unstoppable i fear", "get wrecked cracker", "I am so curious about the people voting for cracker let me study you please", "cracker getting murdered as expected", "you can't do my biscuit husband like that", "i find cracker really hot"

Daifuku: “power dresser daifuku leads look at those padded shoulders”

Katakuri: "I'm a monsterfucker at heart", "Katakuri is literally so good man he's a family man #he's badass he's got a great sense of honour you know I had to go for the mochi man", "donut king", "KATAKURI MY MOCHI MONSTER TEETH KING CHAMPION HUSBAND THAT I WOULD CLIMB LIKE A MOUNTAIN #I'M ALWAYS ON MY CLIMBING AGENDA WITH MY ONE PIECE KINGS!", "i just know this man would treat me right we love kata", "Kata definitely ticks that hot box" “my giant self conscious doughnut loving beloved” “I could fix him I swear” “To clarify, Katakuri is sixteen feet, eight and a half inches tall. Let that sink in.” “I must defend the donut man” “

Perospero: ”lololol you guys are wrong like look at Perospero what that tongue do😏” “Perospero looks like a dog whose front teeth have been removed and I can't unsee that”

Praline: “ok everyone i'm gonna need a praline sweep RIGHT NOW shes simply perfect”

Smoothie: "ah...smoothie....or as i call her... one piece tsunade Imaoo", "ultimately my desire to be crushed by Smoothie's thighs won out", "SMOOTHIE. THANK YOU mommy long legs... gauhggfghgh......i want her to juice me pleeeeaaaseeeeeeeeeee /silly", “no lady in this poll is prettier than Smoothie. She's got them fine legs that go for days.” “SMOOTHIE MY GIRL U MAY NOT PULL THRU BUT YOULL ALWAYS BE MY FAV” “

The Beast Pirates

Black Maria: “i’m absolutely terrified of spiders but black maria EASILY”

Kaido: "beefcake beast of a man",

King: "King is literally the most beautiful OP character you can't change my mind", "Gotta chose the melanin yknow", "king is so ajdhjdjdjchjd bark bark bark bark", "I saw King and decided he is my blorbo", "king of my [REDACTED]", " I know he's like 20 ft tall and I'm probably the size of his d*** but it would be worth it. I would gladly choose death by snu snu for one night with him" “king is the source of the uhhh. govt weapon fuel source aint he i feel like that gives him hot dominion also: sexiest” “have y'all already forgotten how everyone's brains short-circuited when king's face was revealed shame on you” “its king. no contest no question. i am a slut for a brown man w long hair and i know this about myself” “im a lesbian but king honestly” “king cake IS my favorite kind of cake i'm very proud of that one” “honestly i think king might be the hottest guy oda's ever made” “I mean when king took off his mask for the first time I said out loud 'oh my god he's beautiful'. So.” “I think you’re forgetting that he’s a dark-skinned anime character. We don’t get a lot of those, so they get lapped up like an oasis in the desert” “he dick woudl rip me in half, and that is not something i am interested in’ COWARDICE” “my acearo ass would climb this man like a fucking tree” “Nahhhh this man is a delicious chocolate milkshake 🥵💕😍 I'd climb that 20 foot tree like my life depended on it. Yeah the dinosaur fruit is kind of 🤷‍♀️ but oh well!  That skin, that hair them black fluffy wings are everything. He's so handsomee plussss I'd love to run my fingers through that long hair 😍💕” “His face is carved by the angels themselves” “I need king to **** ******* ****** ***** *** **** **** ** ****” “haha u funny. fire...anyway its King when u simp over someone from One Piece and find out theyre 20 ft tall” “right off the bat king is my fourth pick here. it's a three way time with the other three sorry king he's just. like he's very pretty yes but there's a difference between pretty and hot king is just pretty. ur not winnin today buddyboy” “

Solitaire: “SOLITAIREEEEE GUYS I SWEAR SHES SO FINE IM IN LOVE W HER SHE CAN CHOKE ME W THOSE 6 ARMS I MEAN WHOSAIDTHAT”

[danasevans]

Dana & Frankie + creaky stairs?

fun fact my aunt and uncle’s place in Pittsburgh actually has insanely terrible stairs with this layout so this is dedicated to them lol

Dana had moved in with Benji about a month after he proposed. By then, Maddie had already been eight years old. A perfectly good age for sleeping through the night, long since done with bedtime struggles, so long as Dana pointedly ignores the flashlight and paperback stowed under her pillow. They’ve lived in this house for ten years now, but only for the past two has Dana worried about how creaky the goddamn stairs are.

She and Benji have their master bedroom on the third floor of the townhouse. It’s cozy— a master bed and bath, and a tiny spare room tucked in there too, where they can host guests for a night or two before they get tired of the crappy futon. The main floor of the house has the kitchen, dining room, and living room in a lovely mess of awkward corners and doorless frames instead of halls. The second floor has two bedrooms and a full bath, and at first, Dana’s only complaint had been managing a baby and a teenager in the same bathroom space. It had never even crossed her mind that climbing the stairs to her own bedroom every night would cause problems.

And then along came Miss Frances Maria Evans… who has slept through the night a grand total of zero fucking times in her thirty months of life.

2100 is relatively early for Dana to be home from work, but much too late for either of her daughters to be awake. Hell, she’s pretty sure Benji’s asleep already; he tends to doze off waiting up for her once he climbs into bed with his book. But as Dana reaches the second floor landing, stairs creaking under her steps, tiny feet come running down the hall.

“Mama!” Frankie attaches herself quickly and efficiently to Dana’s leg, her tiny hands fisting in the material of the yoga pants Dana had been so relieved to change into after shedding her scrubs. She sighs and leans down, lifting her daughter into her arms and ignoring the protests of her back as she kisses her forehead.

“Hey, sugar,” she whispers, keeping her voice low even though she doubts they’ll disturb Madison— her eldest sleeps like a rock. “Why aren’t you in bed, hm? It’s late.”

“‘Cause you’re home!” Frankie answers, smiling the smile of a toddler who has never given a flying fuck about her parents’ sleep. “Daddy said you were gonna come kiss me but I didn’t wanna wait.”

Dana can’t help but smile at her daughter’s excitement. “You know, I’ll always give you a goodnight kiss, even if you’re already asleep.” But she starts to climb the next flight of stairs anyway. Benji says if they always bring Frankie into their bed, she’s never going to go to sleep on her own. But Dana had let Maddie crawl into bed with her well into elementary school, and she’ll be damned if she tries to reason with a toddler after dark. They’re like goddamn gremlins.

“Will you sing me a song, Mama?”

Dana hums. “I don’t know, Frankie, Daddy might already be asleep.”

“He’s not,” Ben groans, as she slips through the doorway. “But she should be, babe.”

“Listen,” she huffs, “after the day I’ve had, I need baby cuddles. You want me in your bed, you get her too.”

Ben holds up his hands in surrender and sets his book aside. “Then come here, both of you.”

Ever since Frankie, Dana has showered in the hospital locker room instead of waiting to make it home, wanting to streamline her nightly routine as much as possible. So now she tugs her hair free of its ponytail and ditches her clothes, sliding into bed with her husband. Their daughter nestles between them, blonde hair messy and in her face as she curls up against Dana’s pillow. Dana strokes her cheek, kissing her forehead when her eyes close.

“Mama,” Frankie mumbles, already much closer to sleep, “you gotta sing.”

“Yeah,” Benji agrees, grinning over from his side of the bed. “You should.”

Dana gives him a tired smile and begins to hum slowly, a classic hymn that’s been floating around her head since Sunday mass. By the second verse, she sings aloud.

“Crown him the lord of life, who triumphed o’er the grave… and rose victorious in the strife for those he came to save…”

Frankie nestles closer to her, sucking her thumb. A vague thought about middle school orthodontics crosses her mind, but she’s too tired to consider it. She sings softly, reaching out to brush her fingers over Benji’s arm. He leans over and kisses her cheek, before repeating the gesture with Frankie.

The problem, Dana thinks foggily, is that every night falling asleep like this makes her less inclined to reinforce Frankie’s bedtime rules.

She’ll just have to handle the toddler in her bed a little while longer.

[gg-pedro]

can you hear the music (ch. 6) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano, and you find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 5: joel loves you, and you let him. you could live a million more days like this.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, protective!joel, implied age gap, unprotected piv, ellie plays the piano, sweet smut, fingering, joel needs taking care of, bittersweet fluff, but almost entirely fluff, happy ending :)

words: 5.5k

a/n: grand finale! i hope i delivered for all of you. thank you endlessly, and from the bottom of my heart, for reading and supporting my stuff and this series. its been so incredibly fun and fulfilling. enjoy this!!

-

Life was sweet. Life was good. 

You blinked and spring had become summer. The fields grew unruly with wild grass and baby’s breath, the sun shined longer. Clouds lingered, but they didn’t stay. Days were hot and saccharine. 

You heard music everywhere. In the swallows outside your window at dawn, the rustle in the pear trees when the wind blew, in Joel’s voice when he hummed you to sleep. In the creaks in the floorboards that you had memorized as his footsteps, the hymns and nursery rhymes that kids sang, and in your old upright piano that was slowly losing falling out of tune.

It had been quiet for so long, but now it was loud– deafening at times. Impossible not to notice.

The best music of all, perhaps, was the songs Ellie was learning for the informal recital that you’d suggested she put on. And even sweeter than that was the way she’d changed since you first met. She no longer reminded you of a scared little girl, always choosing the fight over the flight. She was strong and bubbly and hilarious, and watching her find a reason to be proud of herself was even more rewarding than watching her become a talented musician.

The song selection was completely inappropriate, but it was perfect anyway: Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl (for her Joel, of course), the Jurassic Park theme, and finally, Ain’t Too Proud To Beg by the Temptations. 

The two of you were conspiring against Joel for weeks now, planning the surprise for him and practicing whenever you got the chance. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that he and Ellie were hiding something from you, too. Ellie was far too giddy when she saw the two of you together. She lingered a little too long after dinner, or when you were sleeping over, or when you’d planned a day to spend together.

If Ellie had one fault, it was that she was awful at keeping secrets.

After inviting you out on a horse ride through the outskirts of the perimeters of Jackson, Joel took a detour. He went northward, through the green woods and out into a clearing, and you were soon back at the white farmhouse. 

It looked the same, aside from a little more wear on the outside from this year’s harsh winter and wet spring. The roof was still caving in and the doorway was still open. The ivy was thriving, twisting up towards the peak where the sun had worn away at the crisp white paint.

“You wanna see the inside?” Joel asked, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Is it safe?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?”

He helped you slide off the back of the mare, your hand slid instinctively into his as you walked up to the wrap around porch. Inside, the interior was fitted with dark hardwood and floral wallpaper that had started to fade and peel. In the front sitting room, the sun had bleached the upholstered arm chairs and faded the photos on the wall. Still, it was beautifully preserved, clear that this place was home to a lifetime of memories.

The breeze blowing in through the front door was warm as Joel took both of your hands into his. He was slightly tanned now, and patches of his salt and pepper hair looked more caramel. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when you looked at him– he was gorgeous, and you loved him, and he was yours.

“I know I can’t give you this,” he started quietly. “I wish I could, baby. I would if I could.”

“I’d never ask you for this, Joel,” you countered.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re sweet and you never ask for things, not even if you wanted to.” He brought up a hand to brush your hair behind your ears. He always said he liked it when it was out of the way, because he liked seeing your face. “I’m wanna ask you for somethin’, though”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I want you to move in. With us. Me and Ellie. Before you–”

“Joel–”

“–she really looks up to you, you’re good for her. It’d mean somethin’ to her, and to me. I know, I know, I’ve asked you a hundred times, but I’m askin’ for real this time,” he said, cutting you off once and for all.

“It wasn’t real all those other times?” You looked at him with a smile. “What would we be then, if we lived together? What would you call me?”

His partner. His wife? Just his, maybe. 

You looked away from him for a moment, watching the sunlight as it poured through the windows and highlighted everything in orange. The shelves propped up against the walls were lined with books and picture frames and knicknacks. There was still a throw blanket draped over the couch. People had built a life here, and were likely forced to abandon it all. 

When you looked back, Joel was reaching into his pocket to pull out something that was small and caught in the light. It was thin and shiny gold, a ring with three symmetric diamonds set into the band. He took your hand, dirt under your clipped fingernails and all, and slid it onto your ring finger. 

“I’m not askin’ you to marry me. We can call it that, if that means anythin’ to you. I just want to give you somethin’ nice. A nice life where I can keep you safe. We can paint the house, fix it up inside a little. Give you somethin’ like this. I’ll call you anything you want.”

You laughed at the way Joel was dancing around his words, and the way that he continuously fidgeted with the ring on your finger. Always avoiding strings, giving you a way out before you even had the chance to get a word in. You wished you had found a way in all this time to make him understand your commitment to him, without a ring or a pretty house or any of it. 

You just rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. His hands found the small of your waist and you melted into each other with a familiar rhythm. Light was striking your eyes as you pulled back, and you nodded.

A life. A nice one. Yes. A thousand times yes. 

“A ring and all, hm?” you replied quietly, still wrapped up in him. “Yes. That’s my answer this time.”

He kissed your cheek, and you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “Okay. Okay, good. I love you.”

You leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around you from the side. “I love you, too.”

Again, you stared at the picture frames still hung on the wall. A full family– parents, kids, grandparents, all commemorated permanently in this house. You could have something like this, too. Not everything had come to an end when the world had fallen apart. People persisted. Love, connection, and happiness. It was still here, alive and humming in all of the places you had been.

You realized now, in Joel’s arms, that you had to start from scratch. Build up the beautiful life that was already budding before you. This was something you would fight for. 

-

Fresh white paint slopped messily onto chipped brown walls, Joel in the corner of your eye with paint splattered on his own worn t-shirt.

You heard the sound of his footsteps padded by the sheets on the floor approaching you, even over the music that was flowing from the crank record player in the corner of the room. An old Frank Sinatra: Songs For Swiningin’ Lovers! record was spinning and skipping, songs from forever ago that made your heart feel a little heavier.

He grinned at you as he grabbed your waist, taking the paintbrush you held in your hand and holding it up out of your reach. 

“Hey,” you warned when you broke the kiss, “I’m picking up your slack over here.”

He laughed and swiped his thumb over your cheek. “I see that. Got paint all over your pretty face.”

As you were about to protest, he kissed you again and his hands trailed down to your hips and ass. He tasted like cool silver and sparks of electricity. His beard scratched your face as he started to back you up to the wall. The paintbrush clattered to the floor. 

The two of you had been systematically moving furniture and covering whatever else you could as you started the process of freshening up his and Ellie’s place. Your place, too. You’d all but cleared your own house out, and you felt your lives officially combining. The whole process of knowing Joel had been like passing right through him. Knowing him deeply– the good, the bad, and the ugly– until you could stand on the other side and look him in the eye and say that you loved all of it. 

“You up for a break?” He offered with his mouth ghosting your collar. 

“Painting’s gonna take forever if you keep this up,” you pointed out.

“Not my fault that y’look so damn good in overalls.”

You laughed, and he laughed, and he slung you over his shoulder before you could get another word in to carry you upstairs.

You shed your clothes like a second skin onto the floor, lying bare for each other in the sunlit bedroom you shared. Joel fucked you differently now. There was no desperation, no quickness, no fear that you were going to disappear beneath him. He fucked you sickeningly slow, torturously, like he had realized that it would last a lifetime. A lifetime of feeling you.

His tongue met all of your weak spots while his fingers breached your throbbing entrance. He pumped long, gratuitous beats with his ring and middle finger and you shook as the ridges and years of wear on his hands hit every pressure point that made you feel good. 

Compliments and praise rolled off his tongue and reverberated into your body. Sweet girl. Pretty little thing. Feels good, huh? Beautiful. Tell me you feel good, baby. Just like that. Mine. Mine. 

It felt like he could make you come with his voice alone. 

He liked playing with you, though. Knew intimately how weak he made you. Still, you felt like you could give your most vulnerable self over to him and he would protect it with his life. 

“Joel, Joel– so close–”

He paused his work, meeting your eyes between your parted thighs. “Not yet, darlin’, I’m gonna feel you come. Wanna feel it.”

Tilting your hips up to meet his, he hooked your legs on his shoulders and thrusted methodically inside of you. He stopped every once in a while to tease your clit, still crying for attention, with the wet head of his cock. You moved your hand down to touch yourself, rubbing fast circles against the spot, but he grabbed your hand away and insisted on stimulating you himself.

He treated you too well. Didn’t want you lifting a finger while he was taking care of you. With his free hand he felt you up all over, raising the hairs on your body and making you shiver. He loved watching what he did to you. Loved when you made him feel drunk and desperate. 

The one thing you could give was grabbing his arm as you came, letting him feel your walls convulse and shudder around his cock. That was usually his trigger– he couldn’t stand it much longer as he watched you whine and moan around his name, repeating it over and over like a fiery prayer. 

Oh, Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. 

Sweating and panting in the small room, already hot from the harsh summer, he laid there quietly with you. You could hear You Make Me Feel So Young still warbling from the record player as you ran your hand up and down his side.

Dark brown lashes met his skin as his eyes slipped shut. You couldn’t tell if he was getting old fast or just getting more comfortable with you, because it seemed like he was falling asleep next to you every chance he got.

You were glad. Setting all of your happiness and contentment being with him, you were glad that you made him feel safe– to watch those walls that he’d built up so high and impenetrable to slowly drop since you’d met him.

You propped yourself up to lean over and kiss the bridge of his nose. “Was this your plan all along? Tire both of us out so you had an excuse to stop painting for the day?”

He cracked an eye open, a smile spreading on his face. “M’not tired. You paint all you want, baby, I could watch you all day.”

“Mhm, making me do all the work, as per usual.” You shut your eyes and dropped your head against his chest.

“You’re too young to complain. I’m too old.”

“Not too old to fuck me like that, though?”

He laughed in a way that told you he was also rolling his eyes. “Never too old for that.”

“Touché, Miller.”

Your breathing started to even out and your skin felt temperate from the sun breaking through the curtains. Joel’s arms were firmly tucked around you and it almost felt like an instinct. He protected you, even if you didn’t want him to. Took care of you when he didn’t have to. Loved you just because he could. 

You let him. You could live a million more days like this.

-

You painted more walls, filled old cracks, broke a pipe or two in the process. Joel was always there to fix things. It was messy and far from a perfect renovation, but it was home and that was enough. 

Your personal passion project, however, was fixing up the backyard. With the lawn mowed and overgrown weeds under control, you were determined to start a garden. You picked a six by three patch of land towards the back, adjacent to the huge bur oak that provided a nice radius of shade for half the day until the sun shifted. 

Joel had built the wooden perimeter for you and you had nurtured the rest. All it took was a morning of ripping up grass and a few seed packets from the town’s garden, and your plants were already starting to breach the soil and bloom. On a particularly warm afternoon, watering can in hand, you were worried that the zucchini was going to overtake the whole thing.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ellie slide out of the back door and stomp over to the shade of the oak tree, promptly laying down on the cool grass with a groan. Her hair, usually tied back in a practical ponytail, was sprawled out on the ground beneath her head.

Wordlessly, you dropped the watering can and sank down a few feet away, facing her. 

“What’s up with you, kid?”

She huffed again, covering her eyes with her forearms. “My hair’s too fucking long,” she said at last. “Making everything hot. I wish I was bald.”

You laughed. “I’ll shave it off, if you want.”

She lifted her arm slightly to look over at you. “It’d look sick, right?”

“Yeah. Super metal,” you agreed. “You’d still be pretty bald by wintertime, though.”

 She only groaned at that revelation.

“Do you know how to braid?” You asked, lying down on your back. The tree was rustling in the wind and the gaps in the leaves allowed thin beams of light through. 

“Like, a regular braid? Kinda… falls out, though. Then I have to care about it.”

“French braids, then? The kind that goes up your whole head?”

“It’d look stupid,” she concluded. “I’m not seven.”

“No, c’mon. It’ll stay in for a few days, too. If it’s out of your face, you won’t even have to think about it.”

She sat up this time, running her fingers back and forth through the grass. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you. Go get a brush and some hair ties.”

With simply surviving being Ellie’s number one priority for so long, you doubted she had ever put much mental energy into caring about how she looked. A hairstyle and clothes were surely an afterthought when living to see the next day had been so uncertain. But she was a teenage girl who had been at a comfortable distance from death for a while now, and she deserved to feel good about herself. Pretty, even.

So the two of you sat, her sat criss-crossed in front of you as you got to work on parting her hair into two and weaving tight plaits into each side. You tried to be as precise and methodical as possible without pulling too hard or making her sit there for too long. Her hair was long, thick and slightly wavy in the humidity. 

You put both hands on her shoulders when you were done, admiring your work. “Better? Turn, let me see the front.”

She did as she was told, smoothing her hands over the braids that sat on her shoulders. “Yeah, this is better.”

“You look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You tilted your head and smiled at her. “If you like it, I’ll show you how to do it on yourself.”

She shrugged as she stood up, taking the brush and comb from your hands. “Dunno. Ponytails are like, a billion times easier.”

“If you say so.” You caught her wrist before she could turn to walk away. “Offer still stands. I’m always here for… girl stuff. I know a lot more about some things than Joel. Okay?”

“Yeah, girl stuff. Hair and periods and shit. Got it. Thanks.” She waved you off dismissively. 

“I’m serious. Just know that,” you called after her.

“I heard you!” She yelled back, already halfway across the lawn.

Joel came home later than expected that night, long after the two of you had eaten dinner. He was half expecting you and Ellie to be in bed by then, so it came as a surprise when he shut the front door and heard back and forth bickering mixed with tearful laughter pouring out of Ellie’s bedroom.

Quietly, he made his way upstairs, lingering by her door that was slightly ajar. Warm, pink light seeped out of the space along with the familiar sound of her giggle.

With a fistful of your hair in her hand, trying and failing at her attempt to create a presentable french braid, you were winded from laughter.

“For how awful this looks, Ellie, I don’t know how you’re managing to scalp me.”

“I’m doing it like you showed me! Grab a chunk from here, put it together, put it over the middle. Chunk, together, middle. Chunk–”

She yanked on a thick strand of hair. “Jesus, ow.”

“Shut up, it looks great.”

Holding up a mirror to your hair, you shook your head.“It looks like I got in a fight with a rabid animal and lost.”

Ellie laughed again, her grip going weak as she flopped backwards onto her bed. Shaking out the rest of your hair, Joel watched you lay down next to her, trying to catch your breath as you wiped tears from your eyes. You looked at each other in the dim pink light, twin grins on your faces.

“Do you regret your offer now?” Ellie asked.

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

Joel pressed himself up against the wall in the hallway, smiling to himself. Things were so bad for so long. When things are bad enough for long enough, you think it’ll stay that way forever. You think it’ll never be good again. You think you’ve changed for the worse.

Joel often discounted himself, thinking that all that bad had done something irreversible to him– an insidious, evergreen thing that he wouldn’t be able to tear out of himself. 

But you– Ellie– his girls, you washed that away in him every new day with you. Soothed burns from a lifetime ago, siphoned out poison that felt like it had eroded him entirely. Things could still be good. He could be good for the two of you, at least. 

With time, everything heals. He was sure of it.

-

The only thing missing from your new home was a piano.

It was the last thing to move, and it took you, Joel, Tommy, and a few passersbys who were tired of watching the three of you struggle to carry it just a few houses down the street.

You were heartbroken when the move had thrown it badly out of tune. You could play, but you were hardly a professional, and you were at a loss as to how one was supposed to tune an 88-key piano. 

Joel watched you sit in front of it, hands steepled in front of your face after you had attempted to transpose a few songs you knew into something that sounded mildly similar, but it was no use. 

He put a hand on your back as you stabbed the keyboard in a few more places, fingers moving fluidly as you played different scales. The sound was twingy and grating.

“It’s alright, hon. We’ll fix it,” he murmured.

“It was already old to begin with. I should’ve known. You’d have to take the whole face off, tune each one… and with what, a wrench? I don’t even know what it’s supposed to sound like.”

Joel was quiet for a while, inspecting the front panel of the instrument as you continued to play out of tune melodies. “I’m pretty handy, ain’t I? It’s not rocket science. You know what it’s supposed to sound like, c’mon now. You know the thing like the back of your hand.”

When you didn’t respond, Joel left the room. You dropped your forehead onto the keyboard, cringing when it made a loud, angry sound. Maybe this was a sign. You should never have disturbed it. You had this one perfect thing, this piano that had fallen right into your lap when you had moved to Jackson. It had changed everything. It made you feel human again. It felt like a sign from the universe, one that reaffirmed the creeping fear that you could only have so many good things and that you certainly never deserved them all.

Joel pulled you from your stupor when he sat down on the bench next to you. He had a screwdriver in hand, silently putting himself to work on revealing the hammers and the pin block. You didn’t lift your head from your hands until he started tapping on middle C, then crudely turning the tuning pin with a striking wrench until the sound was clear and in tune.

“Stop, stop, don’t touch it– that's it,” you said with your hand on his wrist.

He nodded, and you weren’t even sure he recognized the wave of relief that washed over your expression. He just went onto the next, D, until you signaled for him to stop when you heard the correct sound.

Joel sat with you for hours as the two of you worked on it. You took over after a while, making him play different chords on his guitar to ensure the sounds were matching up on the black and white keys together. You were almost certainly driving the neighbors insane, hitting the same notes over and over again until muscle memory kicked in and it sounded like it was right.

It was an amateur's job, undoubtedly. Any trained musician would probably be horrified by your heavy handedness, your unreliable ear for the notes, Joel’s corroboration on the guitar– it wasn’t perfect. To you, though, it was. By the time you had adjusted every tuning pin, it sounded better than it ever had before.

Tired and driven a little crazy from the incessant noise, you and Joel sank down into the couch. The main panel still needed to be reattached, the floor cleaned from loose sheet music and tools, but it didn’t matter. He wrapped his left arm around you like he always did, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“Told you,” he chided. 

“Thank you. I love you.”

You dropped your head into the warm crook of his neck, and he didn’t say anything back. He didn’t have to. He’d been telling you he loved you for the past three hours, in his own secret language that enveloped you and hummed quietly in the air. I’d do anything for you, it said, whether it be peeling your orange or fixing your old piano or falling on his own sword. For you, I would. I would I would I would.

“Don’t have to thank me, m’just glad you’re happy.”

You didn’t have much left to repay him with. You don’t think you’d ever be out of debt with him, for giving you everything. You would have to make it up to him. 

-

With your piano renewed and that nagging empty feeling confidently shut out of your head, you and Ellie practiced together like mad. She was insistent on rehearsing the songs she had picked for her recital until they were entirely flawless. 

You forced her to set a date to show Joel out of fear that she’d never come to a point where she felt satisfied with herself. He went out with Tommy that day, promising he’d bring something back for the two of you, which signaled that he would be gone for the afternoon and into the evening.

You braided Ellie’s hair, fixed up your new home together, and taught her how to bow at the end of her very informal performance. She was refreshingly giddy and excited, telling you over and over again how surprised Joel would be. 

“He already knows you’re good, hon,” you reminded her.

“Yeah, but I’m like super fucking good now. Bet he doesn’t know what my dainty little lady fingers can do.”

You laughed, pulled her in close to your side, and agreed before she asked to practice one more time before he got home.

When you heard him at the door that remained permanently unlocked, you were in the middle of dragging two chairs from the kitchen into the living room to position by the piano. You greeted him, and he kissed you long and slow, grabbing you from behind.

“You look nice. Really pretty, darlin’. Why’re all the lights off? Am I forgetting somethin’?” He said, a hint of concern in his low voice.

You shook your head and pulled yourself away from him. “No. We have a surprise for you,” you revealed. “Go up and change into something nice. We’ll be down here.”

You could see the gears turning in Joel’s mind, leafing through his recollection of birthdays and anniversaries and any other thing he could think of that would warrant a surprise.

“Everything’s fine, Joel. Better than fine. Good. It’s just us.”

He put his hands up in surrender before disappearing up the stairs. 

You sat next to Ellie on the piano bench, wrapping both of her hands up in yours. A single, loose french braid ran down her head and spilled over onto her shoulder. A few stubborn flyaways curled up around her temple and framed her face. 

“You look perfect. You’ll be great. It’s Joel, anyway, you could play Baa Baa Black Sheep and he’d give you a standing ovation.” You smiled.

She nodded, smiling alongside you. “Yeah, I know.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, so you pulled her into a long hug before letting them fall. The universe worked in funny ways, you thought. You had Ellie to thank for bringing Joel here, and Maria for forcing her into trivial music lessons after music had become little more than obsolete after the world had come to a screeching halt.

But mostly, you wanted to thank her for showing her so much good. For reminding you that some things, the most important things, never really did fade.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah… you’re welcome. For whatever I did.”

Joel came down the stairs slowly, evident that he was tired and his right side was bothering him again. He had a hand on the healed scar on his abdomen when he entered the living room, dressed in fresh jeans and a green button down.

“Surprise!” Ellie exclaimed. “You have to listen to my ‘recital.’ Just sit back and enjoy, old man.” She grinned.

“Oh man, this is a surprise. Y’all should’ve told me about this,” he said, making his way over to one of the kitchen chairs that were placed a few feet away from the piano. “I’m all ears. Play away, kiddo.”

You took your seat next to Joel, and he grabbed your hand to squeeze it. When you looked over to him as Ellie played the preamble to Uptown Girl, his eyes were a little shiny. 

She played like a true pianist. You’d heard her set a million times, but the smile on Joel’s face made something heavy and light all at the same time catch in your chest. You couldn’t quite describe the feeling– pride? Contentment? Honest, pure happiness? Whatever it was, it felt good. You felt whole.

Joel couldn’t help but laugh at the 180 switch to the Jurassic Park Theme after giving her raucous applause for the first song. She giggled her way through it, too, and so did you. If she missed a beat or her finger slipped on a key, she just kept playing, nodding along with the fractured beat. 

He was leaning back in his seat when she hit the first few notes of Ain’t Too Proud To Beg, but soon perked up. 

“This is a good one, El. A good one, damn. The Stones covered this one, right?”

“Shut up, I’m concentrating,” she quipped. 

I know you wanna leave me

But I refuse to let you go

If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy

I don’t mind, ‘cause you mean that much to me

You smiled, seizing your opportunity to grab him by the hand and pull him up and out of his seat. He humored you, taking you by the waist to sway around the living room with you.

Now I heard a cryin’ man is half a man

With no sense of pride

But if I have to cry to keep you

I don’t mind weepin’

If it’ll keep you by my side

Your laughter melted and swam in the air along with the music, nearly toppling each other over when he lifted your arm to spin you around. You both sang along with the tune of the music as Ellie played, and she glanced over her shoulder at the two of you with a smile spread wide across her face. 

Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darlin’

Please don’t leave me girl

Ain’t too proud to plead, baby, baby

Please don’t leave me girl

You pressed your back up against his frontside and he wrapped both arms around you from behind while he swayed along with you. You looked up over your shoulder, and he met you with a sweet kiss.

Both of you applauded wildly when Ellie finished, and she stood up to give a very haphazard bow, as you’d taught her.

“Sit back down, I wanna hear that one again. Man, you’re too good,” Joel said, coming over to her to ruffle the top of her head. “You killed it, darlin’. Keep goin’.”

Going for the encore, you and Joel rocked to the music in each other’s arms. You faced him this time, your arms resting on his shoulders while his found your waist again.

“You did good, baby. This is… I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“She’s here because of you. We both are, if you think about it.”

He nodded, his dark eyes glistening in the light again. “Yeah… don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

You kissed his lips, drawn out and lovingly, smiling against them. “You deserve the world, Joel Miller.”

He laughed quietly as he shook his head, fully pulling you into his arms. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and clung to the fabric of your shirt. “I love you. Just… so much.”

At last, you thought– maybe there was only one universe. Only one life. One chance to cry and sing, to love and be loved, to feel the ground beneath your feet and say I am here for a reason. I can be good. Get better. A hundred thousand days of sun, sleepless nights below heavenly stars, a few more cold winters to get through. I am here with him, in this universe, where we’ve both changed. Been able to know each other. 

You had no clue if you’d get only one or if you’d get ten thousand more. If all of your lives would have Joel in them, finding him as your neighbor or your best friend or as a stranger across an ocean. You hoped you’d always find him, in one way or another. 

But if all you got was this one– just this one hard, beautiful life, one chance to hear the music–

It would be enough for you.

-

[swan2swan]

Nothing about this is objectionable.

If anyone on Tumblr, this website that Alex Hirsch, God Bless His Soul, just shouted out despite it being declared legally dead for seven years, God Rest Its Soul, wants to take issue with it in a nine-hundred word essay, as he predicted, you can take it back.

I will match you.

I will match you, and I will raise you.

Gravity Falls was a frontier rush for fandoms. It taught a whole new generation what continuity was, and, in fact, invented the codebreaking format that would be used by other shows. It had confidence. The show started and had an ending point. It was bold in ways that we seldom get to see in this day and age, and I'm getting cliche...oh, hey, someone just recommended Eda! Well, we need more women! I guess Eda can hook up with a dude, she's bisexual, she loves Rayne, or Raine, wow, Hooty's here, too...you can tell I'm padding this out, but the point is, I don't know if Tumblr's as sanctimonious as it used to be.

Maybe I'm just old and I don't interact as much, but I think Twitter and TikTok are where most of the rookie Social Justice Warriors go these days. And I think they've got their issues, but I also think the youths will grow and work out their problems and learn. And Gravity Falls is gonna help with that.

Anyway, they're looking for a hundred grand to make Alex Hirsch drink a jar of teeth, so I have to donate, with apologies to my toothphobic partner, who hates anything having to do with tooth loss. This is something I've had to live with, but also, I commiserate with her. I may have gotten distracted, but I said at the start, this is about padding the word count.

Anyway, if you kids are feeling upset about the future...lock in, and not in a "man up" or "woman up" (but kinda) way, and especially not in a "grow up you namby-pamby" way. You need to have faith in your neighbors, even if you don't know if you can have faith in humanity. I'm getting cliche'd again.

Because, look. Sometimes, you get to have Matt...is that Matt Braly?...drawing pictures of Mullet Stan saying "SOUPER MAN!", and have Alex Hirsch narrate it. And you know what? That's worth it, sometimes. Because they're doing it to raise money to help people, and providing YOU, the audience, with great stuff, and there's gonna be art that you can contribute to in the future.

Anyway, the point is, I'm not criticizing what they're doing here, they can do what they want, because it's their imaginations and their effort and that's what's gonna help.

We're going into the Dark Age, folks, but that's far from the End Times. Especially not yours. Be the blazing rays of light you want to be in the world, even if the light only reaches five or six people around you. Give someone a smile, and your life's worthwhile.

Also, always wash your bread knives. Those count. You need to wash your bread knives, kids. And if you don't have a bread knife, invest some money.

Also, as Kristen Schaal says...read a novel.

Anyway, Gravity Falls tried breaking the norms of on-screen romance by teasing some gay background characters once, but they got shot down, as everyone knows. Nevertheless, Wendy is confirmed bisexual, if I recall correctly, and Bill and Stanford are absolutely gay for one another, as has been emphasized repeatedly, so take that, Disney censors. If nothing else, Gravity Falls REALLY pointed out some of the flaws and injustices in the animation industry, which have been broken through since then by the likes of She-Ra, Camp Cretaceous, and Moon Girl...even if Moon Girl poked around and found some NEW barriers. But those barriers, too, will only stand for so long.

I should watch Over The Garden Wall.

Anyway, going back to the above...always recommend the good shows you love. And figure out how to recommend the shows you love! Be encouraging. Learn to communicate with people. And if you learn how to sell people on shows, you might be able to sell people on other things. Talk to your neighbors, learn to communicate, remember to communicate, and stay in touch with longform comments and longform text. Hopefully this didn't get too difficult to read.

You might be able to tell that I am rusty, myself.

I hope I got to nine hundred words. I really do.

But I need to donate, myself. So I'm wrapping it up.

Thank you for reading this far, if you did, and if you didn't:

TLDR: We're gonna make it. We're gonna meke this work. We're going to survive. And you...YOU? You're gonna have fun. I promise.

Also, I think this clocks in at eight hundred words, for which, I apologize. But I did something.

[kei-maki]

Carstober Day 21: Crash

Literally only me and @secretly-larry-daley know the oc I’m writing this for, so this isn’t necessarily intended for everyone but please feel free to read anyways. But this is going to be very self indulgent as it’s about a Lightnesco fan child I made so yeah

Warning: humanized cars, near death experiences, kind of panic attack?, Francesco chokes god (/hj), making scenes more dramatic than realistically possible for the sake of writing, this is probably cringe but I’m free and don’t care, swearing, not beta read lol, I think that’s it?

————————————————————————

There had been a collision with another racer on the Circuit of the Americas track.

Whether it was intentional or not, in the brief moment she had before she found her and her car rolling over at beyond rapid speeds after quickly losing control of the wheel, Isabella didn’t know. And she couldn’t really find herself to care as she found herself frozen in the air.

She’d felt her heart seize and drop to the pit of her stomach in an instant- the feeling causing her body to grow numb under the gravity of the situation.

She’d known it would likely happen eventually. A crash. And she’d witnessed many in her time, both before and after she started racing.

She’d even been there when one of her dads had gotten into one of his own back in 2017- McQueen. She was seven at the time.

She was there when they’d rushed him to the hospital, the first to curl up by his side when they began to accept visitors as he lay in bed unconscious for what seemed like ages- waiting as her papà, Francesco, rushed over from wherever he’d been in Europe; attending his own Grand Prix Season.

That was the year he’d retired, his career already having begun to come to a natural close. But the event had triggered his need to be there for his family, only having gone back to win one last time after both her and Lightning had assured him he’d be ok. They both had wanted him to go out with one final triumph at the very end of the season before he came home to them…

Huh.

So this is what it was like. To have your life flash before your eyes, then.

The memories were cascading over her mind as they tried to soothe the one thought still prickling her, causing an even more urgent panic to arise in her. An almost primal fear threatening to engulf her completely.

It had filled her then with her dad as it did now, even if she knew it couldn’t be true.

Miles Axelrod.

She knew he had been killed years ago for his grand orchestration that was the World Grand Prix, but she couldn’t help it. Even if she’d been far too young to remember the exact details of watching each racer blow up, she could still remember the way the Lemons had cheered around her at each one. It was so overbearing, the memory of yelling that rattled her body at the time. She couldn’t seem to scrub away the colors of the tv they watched as each racer was engulfed in a raging red and orange because of that damned camera.

What if he’d finally found her? What if he was his doing as a way to take her away from everything and everyone she’d ever loved?

The panic in her heart increased as she felt herself grow more and more numb in the milliseconds passing. Her lungs seemed to fail her and the piercing fear was unbearable.

She couldn’t be taken away from them.

She loved them.

She loved them so much for all they’d done for her. How they’d made her life worth living despite its ugly start. She couldn’t let go of that. Not now, not ever.

Just then, she heard both their familiar voices begin to call out in a frantic yell in her earpiece, but she could barely process it as she was still stuck in her paralyzing fear. Still stuck midair.

It was strange, the way that even if they too were panicked by the situation, she found herself calming just the slightest bit by their presence in what she assumed to be her final moments.

God, there was so much she wanted to tell them. Just how much they meant to her, how they’d saved her, and how they deserved a proper goodbye.

But even stuck like this, seconds away from darkness she knew she had to say something.

So as she saw the ground grow closer, and she barely found the strength to say it in her state, but she needed them to hear her say it if this turned out to be the end.

She finally felt the tears that had been rolling down as she choked out the words,

“I love you guys.”

Goodbye.

And then the world turned to black as time finally unfroze and her car crashed into the ground.

…

It had been McQueen’s turn to crew chief that day, with Fran right there next to him giving his own input here and there.

Both of them got protective of their girl during her races, regardless if they knew she was one of the best. Especially after McQueen’s own crash, the last thing he ever wanted her to experience was the same thing. Her getting hurt in any way. But it was also because of the way his mind drifted off to that one fateful day in the garage with Doc.

She had such a love for the sport, even if it had kept him and Francesco on other sides of the world for a while, it was truly something that was just in her blood. He couldn’t bear the thought of her getting sidelined from her biggest passion after all that pain just for someone new to step into her spot. The way Doc had been. The way he himself had almost been.

Which is why when Isa and the other racer had been fighting over second position on the course, the closeness of the two vehicles had put McQueen in that familiar spot of full alert as he watched from the pits.

That’s why when he saw the other racer practically slam into her car, causing her to go tumbling across the track, everything stopped.

He felt his throat seize up as time seemed to slow in that moment.

Memories flashed by in an instant of when Finn had first introduced him and the young girl after he’d found her on one of the oil rigs a few months after the World Grand Prix. She’d been so scared, hidden behind the spy’s leg as they stood in the cool air of Doc’s museum. It had ran so long to get her trust him because she was so scared that he’d hurt her, her arms bandaged from being grabbed to hard by Miles.

Memories of how once she got settled in she began to shine like a star in the night sky, how vibrant of a person she became. So colorful and over expressive was her personality. So mischievous, so bold, so sweet, so perfect. And yet one to lock away her fear of it meant not worrying those she loved.

He began to let out an eir piercing yell in that moment, tears already streaming down his face as he heard a similar scream shatter the air right next to him.

He couldn’t imagine how scared she must feel in that moment, knowing better than anyone who she might think was behind this even if it was just a simple collision. She’d been beyond terrified for the same reason when he’d been in his own crash.

Which is why it broke him when he heard one more voice join the fear stricken harmony for just a second, one last fleeting moment-

“I love you guys.”

The world felt truly silent after that as her car came to a stop. And for only a moment longer was McQueen still frozen in place until he felt himself take off running towards her as medics rushed to get in the scene.

He barely felt his own feet take off running as he was still trying to process the whole situation.

He needed to get her. Right now.

But he felt arms pull him back, multiple arms. The arms of his team- his family- trying to get him to act rationally even if they knew what he was feeling in that moment.

Wrong.

They had no idea what kind of pain he was in right now. Not even close.

Their words barely passed through his ears as he let out more incoherent yells of desperation, thrashing harshly in their hold. It was almost animalistic, the way he was reacting right then.

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME SEE HER!” He cried.

“You have to- please you have to let me see my daughter… PLEASE!”

The tears that covered his face were scorching hot, almost enough for it to actually hurt.

This was a nightmare- no, this was hell. Being held back by the people he’d grown to love as they tried to keep him from doing something rash as his kid could be dying in that moment.

It was too bad for them that Francesco had a similar reaction.

He felt some of those hands leave him to go help stop the Italian, only realizing now that Sarge had taken after the man by himself first.

Now only Luigi, Guido, and Mater held him back now. And by using all of his strength, he finally broke free and broke back into that sprint.

He felt them call his name as he passed Francesco and dodged all the cameramen and staff coming to report on the tragedy as well as stop him from going any further.

But he wouldn’t let them.

He had to get to her.

He just had to.

…

Francesco remembered when he’d first been introduced to Isa as well.

How hard it’d been to grapple with the fact he was a father- it had been so sudden, her discovery. Did he want this? He still barely knew McQueen, what were they to do about taking care of her if they lived on other sides of the world? Did he even want to take care of her?

Yet when he found himself looking down at the little girl, taking in the way she looked at him cautiously with those little brown eyes of her, he knew he would do everything in his power to be the best father he could ever be for her. For Isa.

He took off running as well, except for him it was immediate.

The second he’d heard the mic cut out his legs started gunning down the side of the track as fast as physically possible, the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream giving him the push he needed to get to her.

But he too met resistance, from Sarge and soon all those from Radiator Springs were pulling him back now as McQueen shot past him. Reporters came flooding to the pits as well as body guards trying to stop the blonde American from getting any closer to the scene.

It was no use. He wasn’t going to get through.

He felt his muscles loosen as he slowly stopped trying to resist everyone’s hold on him. Lights and cameras surrounded his clouded vision, loud voices of everyone bombarded his ears.

He was finally frozen. Barely able to take anything in anymore as grief consumed him.

Key word: barely.

The only thing he was able to process was the sheer amount of publicity the event was receiving. The way people fought to get the devastation on Francesco’s face captured perfectly, the way they tracked the quick movements of McQueen as he tried his hardest to dash across the road to get to Isa, and the way they lingered on her totaled car, trying to find ways to make it seem as damaged as possible- this was a story for them. Not reality.

They all saw this as their moments to shine- in the presence of another person’s life in danger they saw it as an opportunity to leach the money off the assholes who found this shit entertaining. The same assholes who used this to define the art that came with racing.

It was beyond sickening. Maddening. And it made Francesco’s blood boil. A dangerous thing for a helpless man with a short fuse.

Francesco’s eyes locked onto one of the many cameramen before him, who was getting dangerously closer than the others dared. He was spouting bunches of questions he couldn’t be bothered to listen to as he grew closer to his breaking point.

A fool he was, to forget exactly how violent Francesco could get.

But soon enough, the man was reminded of that fact as Fran’s rage overtook him full force and he tackled the man, sending them both toppling to the ground as he quickly straddled the cameraman’s hips while he grasped his esophagus. Fuck him. Fuck them all and fuck the scandal he subconsciously knew this would start. It didn’t matter right now and he couldn’t be bothered to care at all.

Gasps then filled the air around him at the sudden attack, but once again, Francesco didn’t register it all nor care.

Hot tears rolled down his face as his fingers tightened around the camera man's throat as all the emotions he’d been feeling finally crashed into him full force- pure anger, terror, and agony. Who gave him- gave ANY of them- the right to watch and record his entire world falling apart for the sake of their own sick entertainment. He'd kill them. He'd kill them all. He'd kill anyone who didn't turn off their screens right now and minded their own fucking business.

He felt a heavy weight slam into him then, knocking him off the cameraman as he was then pinned to the ground by a group of body guards came in to clear the area.

And thus he was helpless once more, and as he was unable to do anything he let out a scratchy scream as the agony settled in place of his anger- a sound that was sure to affect his vocal cords from his strained and rough it was and its volume-

Francesco’s tears pooled around his face on the ground as he saw McQueen had been caught in a similar situation.

Fine.

They may be able to hold them down for now, but once they were free again, they’d rush to Isa with full force and never let her go again. That was, if she was even still-

No. She was fine. She’d be ok. She had to be.

For now, as the two lay pinned on the scratchy surface of the ground, paying the price of their rash decisions driven by pure parental instincts, all they could hope and perhaps even pray for was that their little girl would be ok.

~~~

Ty for reading :)))

Also hehe get it? He chocked god because it’s camera man? Hehe…

[themadmorrigan]

Hookay so - I was tagged not one, not two, but three times by excellent writers for this meme: so thanks to @zenkindoflove, @olenvasynyt, and @sonics-atelier for thinking of me. :)

Because I'm relatively new both to AO3 AND the ACOTAR fandom, I'm including other fandoms and some sneak previews otherwise my numbers look sad lmao.

-----

First line tag game

Rules are: post the first line(s) from the last 10 fics you've updated or posted (or however many fics you have, if less than 10).

Of Swords and Sorrows - ACOTAR, Nesta x Tamlin, Elain x Lucien, Feyre x being a feral little goblin (for now), 9/?? chapters, ~51k words

Wherever Feyre was, it was dark—oppressively so. The kind of suffocating dark that crept into her lungs and pressed on her chest, that sent tendrils of shadow reaching outwards to drag her deeper into the abyss and drown her in its lightless depths. For a moment, she was terrified. With her eyes rendered useless, however, she found her other senses sharpened in compensation.

Sic Semper Tyrannis - ACOTAR, Elain x Lucien, 1/10 Chapters, 6517 words

Elain’s day begins as it always does: with an affirmation. Rain or shine, she blinks into the dim morning light of her bedroom and tells herself, You’re happy. It’s the prelude of a well-rehearsed daily dance, the steps of which she can perform in her sleep - for Elain is a creature of habit, and there is comfort in repetition.

Sympathy for the Devil - ACOTAR, Beron Vanserra, one-shot, 432 words (for now; I plan to expand this into a whole-ass thing)

It's strange to picture Beron Vanserra as a boy, looking around at the ancient wood monolith called The Forest House with wonder and running through the woods chasing after foxes, picking acorns and snacking on wild blackberries that stain his small, pale hands purple.

Untitled Talis!fic - ACOTAR, Tamlin x Alis, one shot but unpublished yet, ~1000 words

With Feyre, love had always been grand gestures: an art room, a pool of starlight, a dazzling proposal. Their relationship had been similarly tempestuous - Cauldron, it had begun with a kidnapping, and only really gone down from there. With Alis? It had started with a knock and a doughnut.

Pride Before the Fall - D&D/Forgotten Realms - Original Character, one shot, 1958 words

The Vizier was a complicated man, as wizards tended to be: he was arrogant and frequently petulant, opportunistic and loyal only until it suited him otherwise.  Scattered among those negative traits, though, were a handful of virtues. The Vizier was efficient and deplored waste, for one. He had a penchant for quick thinking and flexibility in dire situations. And probably most importantly, he was an excellent planner. 

The Backup Plan - D&D/Forgotten Realms - Original characters, longer companion piece to Pride Before the Fall but unpublished still, 4340 words (so far)

While his party slept beneath the figs and reeds of the oasis below, Lone Wolf sat sentry at the top of a nearby stone tower, keeping his eyes trained on the horizon. Not that the Pride of Waterdeep needed a watchman that night, with how isolated they were, not to mention all of the wardings Lorraine had put up on her Magnificent Mansion a few hours before. Lone Wolf had volunteered anyway, though… cliche as it was, he lived up to his name and preferred his own company to others.

What's In a Name? - ACOTAR, Lady of Autumn/Helion Spellcleaver, Lady of Autumn/Beron Vanserra, one-shot but unpublished yet, 866 words (so far)

Dearest Helion, I hope this letter finds you well My darling Helion, By the time you read this To the light of my life and the promise of my future Pomona sighed at the growing pile of discarded drafts at her feet.

City of Gold - D&D/Forgotten Realms/Baldur's Gate II - Anomen Delryn/Original Character, 6/30 Chapters, published ages ago on that OTHER fanfic website

Upstairs, in a silent room of the stone temple of Quotal, a pair of weathered, bejeweled hands reached into a glass jar and extracted a handful of dried yellow petals. Despite their age and wear, these hands were particularly fine and strong: calloused but well-shaped, they belonged to a man of high birth who wasn’t afraid of labor.

Two Sides of the Same Coin - D&D/Forgotten Realms/Baldur's Gate II - Imoen/Khalid, 6/?? Chapters, ALSO published ages ago on that OTHER fanfic website

"Hey. Imoen. Ims, wake up. We've got to get out of here…" A familiar voice brought the redhead back to the edges of consciousness. She opened her eyes cautiously and found herself sprawled on a metal floor in an immaculately clean cage. The room was dim, but she could make out most of what was around. Steel bars… flagstone walls around, with flickering lights above... And outside, peering in through the bars and fiddling with something, was Eli. Right... She was Imoen. Imoen Winthrop, the innkeeper's daughter.

There are more but those go back to when I was in college and NO one needs to read that, lmao.

Tagging, uh...

@kateprincessofbluewhales, @sadlybluespirited , @limeandorange

[365sylviaplath]

If I Was Anything, I'd Be Everything - 12th House x 12th House Moon

astrology blurb: from my perspective, houses tend to be the thing that separates the astrology enthusiasts from the Vaguely Curious But Not That Into It. houses kind of ask that you really learn the material and apply it, think a little deeper, etc etc. my perspective. anyway, the 12th house in astrology is probably the first of the houses i began to seek more information on. discovering i have a luminary (my moon) in the 12th house was a trip.

we follow the houses through a life cycle- born in the 1st house, going all the way around until the 12th, the end of the cycle. 12th is where we review everything before we die, but we are not yet ready to let go. it's like how in older age, you remember bits and pieces - less of the details and more of the feelings. the feelings will never die. to me, 12th house has always felt like i've had the feelings and am looking back reflectively, but i have no recollection of the experience itself. like i'm reviewing a life i haven't even experienced myself. here, i attempt to elaborate.

Source: https://www.tumblr.com/mitskiarthistory/612950940503441408/illustration-for-goodnight-moon-clement-hurd

pulling a line from Carrie Bradshaw after hearing Big was engaged - “after the relationship ends, where does the love go?”. except my focus is neither of those bozos. it's the concept of this intangible- what happens to a feeling once the circumstances have changed? what happens to this part of you that does not die after it's been born? what happens when you're born into a house of memories?

on a cellular level, i can never forget any of it. the conscious memories always lied dormant, which i speculate is why it was so easy to begin to feel them again when given the prompt. it takes time to make peace with reality. some of us never belonged in linear time to begin with. some of us have a physical response to what has never happened to us on this plane of existence, and it makes us look insane to the external eye. i could never put it to words and i thought for all this time it would be useless to try -- maybe it still is -- maybe i don't mind it being useless. in the grand scheme of it, no one can tell me what matters to me like i can. nobody writes the thesis statement for the essay that makes no sense and elicits criticism for its incoherence and complete rejection of mandatory structure. nobody remembers the writer who is too old to live and too young to die.

i am enrolled in film 101 and i am presenting a homemade psychedelic mind trip of a final project as a freshman who is exploring fantastical concepts i don't quite believe in. i immediately fail the class critique. i am trapped at the intersection of the dreamers and the realists and i remind them they are more alike than they are opposite. at the end of it all, we become the same thing over and over until we can no longer be differentiated. i love you in the sense that our molecular structure was once interwoven and i never forgot, i just needed to see again. i love you in the sense that i would never deny that we forever change each other every time we meet, and we always arrive at exactly the time we need, each and every time. we are there exactly as long as we need to be and not a second more - but there we always were and always will be. i speak like this about everyone, platonic, familial, romantic, past present and future, because they all coexist. much like everyone i've ever loved, time also can no longer be differentiated. the smell in the air reminds me of yesterday, 5 years ago, a day soon to come, the rest of my life and i know these things all to be true with no evidence to provide until it can be demonstrated in the linear scope. why can’t i trust myself to know? by that point, no one will care, but it was never going to matter to anyone but myself. i can only bear witness to myself in here, i cannot see anyone else despite my best efforts

state change is the only thing most people will recognize. i've left, i've started again, i've done something markedly new and different and i have stopped the old. nobody saw what i did before the change. nobody saw what brought me there, how hard it was to be in the state of inbetween, incapable of witness and intangible to everyone including myself. it hurts to be here because i do not know where anything is going, how i'll know when it arrives, anything more than i will just have to hope.

i have faith in what i cannot yet see. i look insane for it. i know the joy i will experience because it lives within me and i have felt it throughout time. einstein's "spooky action at a distance" or quantum entanglement is an attempt to describe and quantify this phenomenon that many of us viscerally know and feel (whether we admit it or not). in essence, pieces of us will influence others without ever having solid evidence as to why. entangled pairs, as they call it, will tell you more about each other than you’d be able to learn about them individually. things that are true about one will be immediately and entirely true about the other. i never had to even know you to have been influenced. we share the same state and have no idea until perhaps one day in this life, we meet. over and over, the universe creates parallels, pieces of each other will live together / separate / in some bizarre in between state of together yet separate / forever influenced though intentionally separate. in minor ways, we are always preparing for what will be coming. meeting people changes our lives forever. the universe is very romantic in this way! i may love you for my entire life and never even fully realize it until much later. or ever at all! we may never even meet, but it is still there and a major piece of me. in dedication to the love i don’t know, i hope you’re out there somewhere feeling held by our unwitting mutual state. i hope you have a deep love for everything we both are. and i hope you never feel alone when you wake up anxiously in the middle of the night, because i am awake with you.

being born honors an entire prior lineage. i love who i never knew but always will be. i can never be without you! i reject the notion that i can never know the women who came before me and didn't live at the same time as i did. i'm more them that i can ever cognitively realize. i feel pain when visiting places i never even knew she suffered in. i speak what was hidden without a clue as to why i'm saying it. you cannot put me in the box that hurt her. i won't fit. i am the opportunity to try again and i do not have the option to go back in. i am crying out in pain because she wished she could, i wake up confused as to why i'm crying -- i'm crying for us all, so she can finally be free and at peace -- she deserved it long ago.

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: WICKED PART 1

It's been a beat since I've blogged but I've obviously just been HOLDING SPACE FOR "FINDING GRAVITY" and now the world is *FINALLY* on my level. The world is also sort of a post apocalyptic shambles but THERE'S ALSO A PAUL TAZEWELL COLLECTION AT TARGET because the only economy is the Wicked economy so why not go down this three hour yellow brick road of nonsense together (before we have to wait a whole other lifetime for the goddamned second act, y'all). There are just so many wigs to discuss in this one. Note: spoilers if you somehow have avoided this 20 year old musical but also care enough to read a wig review of the first act cinema adaptation? I'm not here to judge your life choices; just wigs.

We begin in the vast technicolor poppy fields of Muchkinland where the diminutive inhabitants live in a small circle of huts, presumably in constant opium-hazed slumbers so that they might forget that 90% of them are wearing the same crinkled off-brand Annie Warbucks wig. Actual question: did someone decide for budgetary purposes to save money on this multi-million dollar film ONLY by purchasing every community theater production of Annie's wigs for the munchkins?!?! THIS IS THE ONLY VIABLE EXPLANATION.

Anyway, the munchkins are all celebrating - not because they have been released from the shackles of their sad, ginger-headed, drug-fueled lives - but because the THE WICKED WITCH IS DEAD!! CUE THE WICKED WITCH WICKER MAN BURNING PARTY!!! You might be feeling like Mariah Carey about the Wicked Witch right now because "I don't know her!" and all we've seen so far in this movie are 10000000 orphan Annie wigs but don't worry: you have at least 8 more hours of this movie to get so closely ensconced in wicked witchery that you might have your own Target line by the end of it.

But no time for questions now: ONLY BUBBLES! Hey, this one has Ariana Grande in it! Dressed in what can only be described as the Coming to America wedding dress if it were on a very white Barbie, Ariana's Glinda greets the munchkins, who react as if they have been, well, on a ton of opium. Her wig is another matter entirely: a dusty affair thankfully rolled up under a Ms. Universe crown. In comparison to the munchkins' sad wigs, it is adequately "fine" but there's so much more time to explore Glinda's wig horrors. One bold munchkin asks Glinda if she was friends with the evil, dead, witch and the rest his history (and also the other 9 hours of this movie).

We flashback to Shiz University, a place that exists not in time, space, reality, but rather....on the Greek-adjacent leftover sets of Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again? The rules of Shiz are as non-existent as Mamma Mia math: students of LITERALLY ANY AGE can attend, everyone has to wear blue and grey (EXCEPT THOSE WITH SINGING ROLES), and (most of?) the munchkins have to wear orange-swirly sweater vests (to match their orange wigs?!?!) oh, and also NO GREEN PEOPLE ALLOWED, EVER.

Glinda glides in on a gondola of pink luggage, wearing her own pink Shiz uniform (ONLY GLINDAS OR GUUUULINDAS ALLOWED), and a wig that was clearly hexed by the same wigmaster that has been cursing Nicole Kidman for centuries. As with AMC's favorite specter, this wig is a color that does not exist in the living world. It is the ghost of platinum, coated in dust. The texture is brittle and dry, the part at the scalp looks like a magazine flipped open to an ad for Chico's (every day at Shiz IS A CHICO'S KIND OF DAY). The Ms. Haversham of wigs, this is what Halloween cobweb decorations would look like as a wig. THIS WIG IS VERY VERY BAD. Which is a shame because Ariana, like Glinda herself, is very very good.

And then there's Elphaba. This movie gives Cynthia Erivo the reveal she deserves - you may not have known her before but now you and you and you - you're gonna love her. Her wig does not reach the level of divadom that its star requires, but in comparison with Ariana's haunted leftover Rachel McAdams as Regina George wig, it is almost a thing of beauty. The mini braids serve the character well, as does the larger braid; this is definitely the best Elphaba's look gets despite Guuuulinda's later attempts at a makeover.

In this version of Wicked, Elphaba is only at Shiz to assist her younger sister, NessaRose, whose name is the most insufferable part of her character. This wig, like the character is squeaky clean and without fault. This is honestly the most realistic looking wig in the film. Meanwhile: who is this dude playing their dad and why is he (rudely!) not played by Norbert Leo Butz?!?! Anyway, Elphaba uses her ragemagic to combat Shiz's abelism which somehow gets her registered as a student herself?? Y'all the rules of Shiz are as confounding as a Pinot Grigio soaked caftan in Mamma Mia.

Anyway, Elphaba ends up having to share a room with Guuuuulinda and there are many (many!) scenes about them hating each other, only leading to me hating Guuuuuulinda's wig more. Even an ensemble of not so great wigs couldn't breathe life into it. This wig is truly night of the living dead. Side note: I don't know when we're getting another season of Wednesday but this whole section of the movie is another season of Wednesday.

ANYWAY! Jonathan Bailey! GIRL. No longer held back by the constrains of heteronormative Bridgerton storylines, girlfriend is just living her best life and dancing DICK FIRST through this movie. Also: basically all choreography in this movie is dick first?!?! The whole of Oz leads with their pelvis. I'M NOT MAD ABOUT IT. I'm also just not mad about Olivier Award Winning Jonathan Bailey and how much damn fun he is having in this movie. HIS WIG IS EVEN FUN!! He clearly made a deal with the wigmaster to dusty up Ariana's cobwig and give all the extra volumnizer and bounce to his own. GET IT GURL. Male wigs, as we know, suffer from rear taper but there is none of that here because, as I said, Jonathan is not concerned with the rear but DICKFIRSTDICKFIRSTDICKFIRST.

Bowen Yang's face says it all: ARIANA'S THIRSTY WIG IS ONLY BRINGING JOHNNY DOWN! THANKUNEXT. (Also Bowen's wig is fine, who cares, his glasses do all the talking). Also I assume that both Bowen and Cynthia's glasses will be arriving at a Moscot near you imminently.

NessaRose's wig somehow gets curlier (whenever a character's hair gets curlier and/or blonder we know she is about to crack but we'll have to wait for the second movie for that). Also: SPONGEBOB'S wig is ok!!!

AND THEN! Ariana's haunted wig attempts to makeover Cynthia's and the results are as horrifying as you would assume. THIS WIG WAS NOT MEANT TO BE UNBRAIDED. Also: Ariana's constant hair flips only showcase how awful her wig is. NO!

Anyway, Ariana eats allll the scenery in Popular (girl understood the assignment, she is good!) and then gives Cynthia one fossilized flower - makeover complete! HUH. Please get Cynthia to the Wonder Woman island of fishtail braidology stat - this wig was not meant to be unbraided!

I just realized that I neglected to discuss Michelle Yeoh's wig. I may be in the minority here but I kind of think she is miscast - she can't sing!!! AND I LOVE MICHELLE YEOH!! They didn't even give her any cool fight choreography to balance out her lack of musical ability - missed (Shizzed?) opportunity!! Anyway, her wig is probably the most whimsical of anyone's in the film and I LIKE THAT!! Also Jeff Goldblum's is essentially the same wig, but tapered not stirred. I'm also not sure Jeff Goldblum was made aware that he was even filming a movie. I assume this is how he just leads his life?

In the end (of part 1), I definitely cried at the 4 hour rendition of DEFYING GRAVITY but I also weeped endlessly over this haunted ass wig!!! I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT ARIANA DID TO A WIGMASTER TO BE GIVEN THIS!!! ABSOLUTELY NOT!

VERDICT: DOESN'T WURQ

[kozykricket]

about to watch Roize Rasens new video on how he thinks PL Z-A will play out in terms of gameplay and such (he made videos analyzing terapagos and such, and i think his lines of thought are interesting and adjacent to mine)

but before i actually watch it, i want to propose some of my thoughts of what i feel confident in and what im uncertain about, in terms of the plot and gameplay we know the game takes place basically entirely within lumiose city, and... that its a redevelopment after the war. thats common consensus at this point. lumiose is kinda in a poor state, but they have a grand plan to make it better than its ever been. but ive noticed the allusion to like, developing a city for both people AND pokemon, and i think they're really gonna be going into the theming of urbanization, considering zygardes whole thing is the balance of the ecosystem. so like, im imagining... maybe zygarde gets angry and ends up being the driving force for creating a greater lumiose for the present/future of kalos, one where neither life nor death exists too much for either people or pokemon. I think it might be the case of like, okay... heres some people who are the Evil Guys (they're just city planners who argue in favour of taking up more space for people, maybe because they're still a bit iffy on pokemon in this age) but we stand with a small group of people who want to see pokemon have places to live as they do now. i think it'd be really neat if the progression involves -convince the bad people to not over-urbanize -start developing an area -that area is now transformed into something nice, and. well maybe one of the bad people in denial tries to fight us and stop us i could see the plot actually... hm, i just thought this up as im writing this. what if they actually know about zygarde and its desire to balance the ecosystem, so they... are the reason that its cells are all scattered? what if our goal is to be helping rebuild zygarde in a sense, so that it can bring justice and balance to lumiose and the world? because like. zygardes whole thing in gameplay is having its forms based on the amount of cells that are together. maybe they end up like, corrupting parts of zygarde even. or something. i dunno, it could be neat but yeah i think we'll see why lumiose city in the modern day can be a lovely place for people and pokemon, and see how... it was on a course towards becoming not pokemon-friendly. maybe we just have to stop this all because it enrages zygarde in the future, and we're time traveling again. i dunno, hoopa? hoopa involved? my wildest dream would be that the game takes place in both past and present/future, and we get to see the future timeline change completely based on the changes we make in the past. like, we see some dystopian as hell city that has pollution, no place for pokemon, actively harmful. but then after changing some decisions in the redevelopment, when visiting the future we can then see... its not AS bad. but it still isnt quite balanced. might not be polluting as much, but it doesnt really permit pokemon or something. and we keep doing that until we fulfill the balance ....where do xerneas/yveltal fit into this though? you think it'd be easy to theorize but. i dunno. if anyone has thoughts on how they could work... like, if we pull a PLA, then they could easily swap roles and it'd play out pretty much the same. and we can catch both. but what if maybe they DO play separate roles and- hm i dunno. anyways time to watch!

[idolbound]

DARP Advent 2024: Day Three Past/Birth, Present/Life, Future/Death.

Past/Birth:

- Does your muse know their name day? Yes. - What's their sign? (Which month were they born in?) Born on the 21st day of Bloomingtide, 8:92 Blessed Age. - What is your muse's background? Her mother, Maighread Ó Coileáin (pronounced: Mar-e-ad O-Coy-lian) was born in a small village near Kirkwall, called Wrenwith. As an adult, she left home and went to the city, where she later met her future husband, Bernard Cecil Stannard at the market in Hightown. Bernard was a born Kirkwall noble, and much to the disapproval of his family, pursued Maighread out of love despite her being a commoner and from out of the city. They married and soon had their first daughter Amelia, but waited 6 years before having a second child. - Where are they from? Born and raised in Kirkwall - Do they know their parents? What kind of relationship do they have with them? She was only 5 when they died, so unfortunately, she only knew them as well as a small child could, but she was very close with her father more than her mother (and her sister was the opposite, basically attached to their mother at the hip). - Do they have close family? No, but Meredith developed a father-daughter-like relationship with Ser Wentworth Kell as she became his page, and served under him for years, cited as the 'daughter he never deserved' in his succession speech prior to naming Meredith the next Knight-Captain. - Is your muse born with any distinguishing characteristics (heterochromia etc) or disabilities? Meredith has always had strikingly blue eyes (made more so by taking lyrium over the years), been very tall since adolescence, and has very soft, light blonde hair. She suffers from untreated Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. - Do they discover anything strange about themselves in childhood? (ex. Emmrich's affinity for spirits) No, though she had a deep-seated fear she might develop magic like her sister did as she got older, but once she got past age 7-13, it started to dissipate.

Present/Life:

- How long has your muse been alive? Do they know? By the time of Meredith's canonical death, she is 45 years old. - What is your muse doing? Presently? Acting Knight-Commander of the Templar Order in the city-state of Kirkwall. If by presently, you mean "veilguard" timeline, well, she's dead. - Does your muse have a "day job"? Something to go back to when their "cause" is over? Her cause is her day job. - Who are your muse's closest friends? Ser Wentworth Kell (deceased), Cullen Rutherford (kind of), Ser Thrask (until his betrayal), uh. Grand Cleric Elthina (I guess, but not really). - What are your muse's favorite hobbies? Reading, drinking wine, writing a handwritten copy of the Chant, going to the Chantry for service, having sex. - Does your muse have a place that they live? Multiple places? She lives in the Gallows, in the Templar tower. She does not own a home.

Future/Death:

- How long after their "home game" or media will your muse live? Haha... she does not. :') But that's what AUs are for. - What are your muse's goals for the future? Well, before she started going mad due to the red lyrium idol, I'd say Meredith's intentions were to keep serving as active Knight-Commander either until she hit retirement age (so another 15-20 years) or if she died before then, carefully priming Knight-Captain Cullen to become her successor with the hopes that he would follow exactly in her footsteps, in order to keep Kirkwall and its people safe. - Does your muse have plans for building a family if they don't already have one? I've talked about it before, but because her sister was a mage, even if Meredith wasn't a lesbian / didn't have an aversion to men (and therefore, the people most likely to be getting her pregnant), she has such a deep-seated fear of potentially birthing a magical child and worrying about bringing another mage into the world, that she wouldn't want to anyway. That said, she does see Cullen kind of like a son, and tends to feel a little maternal towards him as her named successor, much like she was for Ser Wentworth. - What does your muse want done with their body when they die? Well, she would've liked to have followed Chantry tradition and have had her body cremated; I think she'd have left a request in her last will and testament to have her ashes scattered in the Waking Sea - Kirkwall is her birthplace and has always been her home next to the waters. But obviously, she can't have that now. - What kind of funeral rites does your muse believe in? As above, she follows standard Andrastian funeral rites of cremation to avoid demonic possession of the corpse. - How does your muse want people to remember them? In her mind, Meredith would want to be remembered as Kirkwall's Champion, which is why she is so miffed that Hawke beat her to the opportunity to be named as such. She wants to be remembered for her efforts, and long-standing changes she made to how the Gallows are run and organized, and how she protected the people of the city time and time again. It is a far stretch from how she actually is remembered now. - Does your muse suffer any long-term illnesses, disabilities, or injuries from the events of their story? How do they cope with those changes in their life? As mentioned, she has long-standing and untreated Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and its resultant symptoms from her childhood trauma of watching her mage sister turn into an abomination and kill their parents and 70 other people before being stopped. In my headcanon, she has endured numerous wounds and burns from fighting apostates, abominations, and demons. In particular, her worst scars are on her right lower leg when, as a Knight-Templar, she took a fire ball directly to her leg, which melted steel and leather together against her skin. it is by the miracle of the Maker and the in-field skills of her senior officer that she did not have to have her leg amputated, and was able to be brought back to the Gallows and seek treatment on time. She spent weeks on bedrest, having the wound debrided and kept clean, but in the meantime, kept her mind and body as active as she could, to get back to active service as soon as possible. She also has lesser burns on her right forearm (her primary sword arm), and other blade-related scars throughout her body. As she gets older, she finds her bones ache, especially when it gets cold. Her knees hurt most of the time, and sometimes she'll tweak her back if she turns the wrong way. She has accepted it as getting older, and because she has been living a hard life in service, but it does annoy her that getting out of bed can often be a momentous task some mornings.

[trueaffections]

perhaps you could tell me a little bit about casey farb and how he regards his grand children....

casey farb is a muse that is really weird to continue talking about as he progressively ages because its like huh. what is that guy like as an old man. and ultimately what really is his fucking deal.

i think in a lot of ways, he would have the potential to be a better grandfather than he was father. because i think at the end of the day if you actually like psychoanalyzed his behaviors beneath the multiple untreated mental illnesses is a lot of fear. he looked for access and control with his kids to try and teach them everything he had learned to make sure he lived this long. like he grew up and lived much of his life in dangerous and hostile situations and the last thing he wants is for his kids to end up in the same spot and not be able to get out of it. that's the job of a father to casey like plain and simple. so with his grandkids, i think he respects that that role is not his. now is he still going to say insane shit at thanksgiving? sure. but his weirdo little moral code doesn't think its right for him to undermine his kids in front of their kids.

anyway i think ultimately his relationship with his individual kids really defines what his relationship with his grandkids would be. because access and control remain like. important parts of how he loves. like he cannot handle the negative emotion of longing for a relationship with the ones he doesn't see so he just shuts it down and focuses on the ones he does. like i think he regards them all pretty positively and would want to be involved in their lives. like he'd be as proud of them as he was his kids.

but i think i've said before like mavrick is uninterested in continuing the bloodline. i don't think he's opposed to having kids it's just a weird microchip thing that they won't be biologically farbs. and i think that would definitely put a strain not only between him and mav but also any potential kids. or like his relationship with colson was never the same after jace died so like. if they ever had kids again he's kind of made his own bed on how their parent will be regarding Papaw Farb.

but i don't think there would be any problems with like him and titus's kids (or like if karma or skeeter had kids). he's not reliable enough for like regular visits but they see each other a handful of times every year and again he goes way easier on them than he ever did his kids. birdie still getting whiplash going between grandparents weekend with wade and chelsie (funny to think of someone having a grandma named chelsie) to casey and whitney (weird they both have the same first initials.)

[razputin-vodello-au-archives]

Donatella, why don't you tell us more about yourself? Where did you grow up? What were Mamma & Papà like? How did you meet Augustus? What were you doing before you joined the circus ? Sorry for all the questions, but I think we deserve to know more about la nostra mamma Circus numero uno.

[Donatella] Well, my children have been pestering me about finally answering this ...ask. Bah, all this feels too revealing, but Frazie has assured me this could be fun. Oh well, quando a Roma....

Well, it's actually funny, but I am actually from New York City, like Norma and Lizzie. I grew up in Little Italy. My grandparents on my mother's side came over from Sicily. My father's family had been in New York for generations, but he was the only one left when my mother met him.

My childhood ...had its fair share of sadness. My mother Francesca died a few years after my birth, by a heart disease. I don't remember too much about her, so all I have about her were stories my grandparents and father told me. Seems she and I were almost identical in personality and appearance, something I am very proud of. She was a professional ballerina, and she met my father Leo - short for Leonardo - going for drinks after a performance.

My father ...took to that drink too often after Mother died. He was a good man and a loving father, but the drink ...called him away from home more and more. One night, when I was a teenager, he just ...never came back. I suspect my grandparents knew what happened, but they never told me, but I can guess...

(Sigh) Anyway, I was raised by my grandparents - and most of my neighbourhood chipping in, and from an early age, my Nonna pushed me to become a ballerina like my mother, which I did. I enjoyed it well enough, but I always felt ...too grounded, tethered if you will.

And then, one day, the Circus came to town, and my grandparents took me to see it. To tell the truth, I was bored during most of the performance. Yes, some things were quite good, but nothing seemed to catch my eye. Until something did. (Giggles) Or should I say: someone.

It was the grand finale of the evening, and that meant it was time for the acrobats. The Flying Mother-Son Duo, Marona Aquato and ...(Deep loving sigh) Augustus.... And when I saw them - him - flying through the air, performing their acrobatics, it was like ...they were masters of the air. They moved so graciously, it was almost like dancing. Ballet in the air. I was instantly enamoured by the art ...as well as the very handsome young man that was performing that evening.

After the performance, I managed to convince my grandparents that I was going to visit a friend, but I actually snuck into the living area of the performers. I knew I shouldn't, but I didn't care, I just had to talk with him. I ...didn't get far. I got quickly caught by their 'security' - a big, BIG, muscle man with a giant moustache. Luckily, Augustus had seen me and managed to convince Big Moustache to let me pass, saying I was there to see him.

In hindsight, it's not surprising he knew why I was there.

We had a long, long and lovely talk, after which he introduded me to his mother, Marona - (long silence) Anyway, I went back a few nights in a row, often having to sneak out of the house. (Pause) (Deep sigh)

One night when I was sneaking back into the house after a date - because they were, despite the both of us just insisting we were 'hanging out' - with Augustus, I got caught, and we ended up having a big fight, which resulted... which resulted in Grandpa slapping me across the cheek and dragging me by the arm - nearly breaking it - back to my room, calling me all sorts of things and forbidding me from ever seeing Augustus or any of ...those words he said I won't repeat, ever again.

The following night, I packed my belongings and ...ran to the circus. I knew they were packing up to travel to another town and ...I couldn't stay home anymore. I just couldn't. I felt ...trappped, a prisoner in a life that was never going to be my own. So ...I ran. I ran right to Augustus and I begged Nona if I could stay.

And she said I could. From then on, I learned all I needed to know about being an acrobat, and I LOVED it. Soaring through the skies, bringing joy to dozens of people, seeing little kids smile and laugh at our performances.

(Loving sigh) I think you can guess what happened next. Me and Auggie got married, started a family, started our own family circus and ...everything else that happened, both good and bad.

(Pause) Last summer, when we went to New York, I visited my old neighbourhood. It seemed so much ...smaller than I remembered. Seems both of my grandparents passed away a few years after I ran away.

I wish I could say it brought me sadness but ...they never even tried to look for me, or contact me. (Pause) (Scoffs) Their fault they never wanted to be part of my family.

Still ...sometimes I wonder what could have happened if they did....

(Pause) I'm sorry, I think I'm going to end it here. This took a bit more out of me than I thought it would. I hope I answered your question.

[purplesurveys]

1943

Are you more afraid of death or not completely living? Not completely living. Death happens to all...I can easily accept that. But I don't think I can forgive myself if I end up not living my life to the fullest I can make it.

What are you most afraid of? I feel like my answer here changes every time I'm asked this, haha. To prove that point, today I'm feeling most afraid of being helpless in vulnerable situations. Scenarios like getting raped, being held at gunpoint or knifepoint, being demanded that I turn over my wallet... stuff like that.

If you had $100 dollars, how would you spend it? Hundred percent it'd go to savings. ~5000 bucks is still a very big deal and I don't want to spend it recklessly right off the bat.

What’s something you would love to have happen right now? For traffic in this country to be permanently eradicated, lol. I came from Makati earlier today and was in a State of Shock seeing EDSA still as stacked as goddamn ever. As if it was weekday rush hour. Unbelievable. I want to go out less and less everyday – the traffic takes up most of people's energy and patience anyway, lmao.

You were given the opportunity to get a new cellular device, what do you choose? I'd go for the iPhone 16, I guess. I'm not desperate to have it since the features haven't changed much, and my 13 still feels relatively new to me; but if I get a freebie pass for a new phone I might as well get the latest version.

How nice of a person are you, honestly? Tbh I try to be as nice as I can to everyone, but I admittedly have a bias toward service crew...or, really, anyone who is from a lower income class. Parking attendants, security guards, baristas, servers, Grab drivers... god knows how other people may have already treated them or spoken to them that day. So I'm nice. It's free to do. If the meal I wanted to order is out of stock, it's not the end of the world; let's just get another one. Versus older, entitled people who'd have a meltdown if their stupid fucking pasta is unavailable.

For people who look middle class or rich, I'm also nice but I generally keep it formal, if that makes sense. I'm just nice enough to not cause a scene – mostly because I expect more from them to be more educated and be just as nice. It's also the richer people who are more uptight or act super entitled, so I've learned not to overly bend over backwards for them.

Is there anyone of your preferred sex who tends to mess with your head? My mom sometimes does.

What have you recently gotten the most compliments on? My hair, since I dyed it brown a few days ago. It's still super fresh and noticeable, so people have been telling me how nice it looks.

Do and your best friend(s) act the same, or are very different from each other? There's many overlaps but I feel like in the grand scheme of things we're more different from each other than we are the same.

On a scale of 1 to 10 how shy are you? I want to say a 6. I won't shy away from small talk, but I also gauge my level of interaction based on how un-shy the other person is. If they seem talkative, I'd definitely talk to them. But if they seem introverted or don't want to be bothered, I won't force myself on them.

Have you ever fallen for your best friend? Yeah.

Who was the last person you made plans with? I asked my sister to go with me to the vet tomorrow for Cooper's monthly appointment.

Are you currently wearing a charm bracelet? Nopes.

Do you have any embarrassing usernames? Not currently, but my first Twitter username fucking sucked lol. In my (very weak) defense it was 2008, I was 10, and nobody knew yet what constituted a good or cringy username at the time...but in any case I think it's safe to say that username aged like milk and I try not to acknowledge its existence LOL

Do you have a backpack in a shape of an animal? Not me, but my sister. Girly is OBSESSED with plushies and anything animal-themed these days, so she's racked up quite the collection of animal-shaped stuff.

Do you ever get called the quiet girl? Yeah definitely, especially when I was in grade/high school. It wasn't my favorite environment so I just waited till college to open up.

Have you ever itched yourself until your skin was raw? Yes, I have pretty bad and sensitive dermatitis :( I actually have a patch on my thigh now – it started itching on Thursday, and now it's equal parts bruise and equal parts rash. The rash I could understand, but I could not for the life of me understand why the edges started bruising.

Do you always clear your history after using the computer? No, not really. I clear my cache and cookies if I notice my usual pages not loading or if the laptop seems generally slower, but that's it. I don't want to lose past links.

Have you ever had your food stolen by a bird? Definitely could have happened before but no particular memory sticks out.

Do you have any Christmas pajama pants? Nope.

Do you ever wear red lipstick? Sometimes. Depends on the colors I'm wearing that day.

Did you go to high school with your current best friend? I did :)

Have you ever wanted to be vegetarian or vegan? Yes, when I was a teenager. I followed this vegan baker blogger who at that time for me was the coolest person in the world, and I wanted to be like her sooooo badly. I still find her very rad, but I've grown out of the vegan ambition haha. Only the super rich can afford being vegan here, anyway.

Do you like eggnog? I haven't tried it but I really want to and I also feel like I'd love it!

Who is the person you dislike the most? I dislike the people I dislike equally. There isn't one I'd have the strongest feelings for.

Girls, how old were you when you first got your period? I had just turned 10. Like, three weeks after turning 10.

Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? My parents insist I don't, but I hand them a certain amount anyway every two weeks. They can funnel that to anywhere they want.

What is your favourite way to eat rice? I mean there is no 'favorite' way for my Asian ass lmao. Rice is just rice for me; it's second nature and is in every meal I eat. Whether white rice, fried rice, kimchi fried rice, brown rice, bagoong rice, garlic rice...all of them are heavenly and are non-negotiables for me, hahahah.

Do your parents know how to text? Yeah. They were pretty much the generation that started the phone craze.

Do you text your parents often? Ish, but it's just in the nuance. I talk to/update them on Messenger all the time, but not so much in text format.

Do you watch Youtube videos often? I love YouTube hehe, I watch videos on it all the time and allot a few hours each day.

Do you prefer to have a lot of friends? No. Too exhausting at this point.

Do you sleep with one blanket or many blankets? Just one. You'd only ever need one here.

What is the FIRST thing you do when you wake up? Check the time and do the mental math re: how long can I keep sleeping. If I don't feel like going back to sleep anymore, I check Reddit for news.

What do you usually have for breakfast, if you do at all? I don't have breakfast; I'll just have a cup of coffee.

Do you have any rituals you perform before you leave your home for the day? Erm, not really. I have a basic routine, but not a ritual. I just put on minimal makeup, fill up my tumbler with water, and say bye to the dogs lol, nothing special.

Have you ever cried in front of your parents over a boyfriend or girlfriend? Nope.

What brand is your digital camera? I don't own one.

Who was the last person to cook something for you? The real, correct answer to this would be the crew at Yabu since I ordered food delivery from them for lunch today, haha.

Do you talk to any of your ex-boyfriends/girlfriends? Nope.

Do you know where your best friend is? She's either home or out somewhere with her fiance.

Who was the last person to comment you on Facebook? Angela, I think.

What is your display picture of on Facebook? It's me posing in front of the concert arena before Yoongi's show.

Have you ever kissed the same sex? Sure.

Have you stuck with your New Year's resolution? I don't make any.

Do you need to lose any weight right now? Nope.

When was the last time you had a period? Around two weeks ago.

How frequently are you inclined to read, and how much? Not very frequent at all, honestly. I just don't have the time; and when I do, I usually don't have reading as a priority. Maybe once or twice a month would be a good estimate.

How does the rain affect your mood, if it does? I like the rain and find comfort in it more than anything.

Chipotle order? We don't have Chipotle here, but Army Navy does have a Chipotle chicken sandwich that's literally my favorite fast food order.

Mythical creature you think/believe is real? Well, none.

Favorite form of potato? Fries.

First thing you’re doing in the purge? Idk but I think I'd definitely be hyperfocused on protecting the dogs.

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? No, not since I was like 10. I don't even know who I inherited it from; my mom and dad have never needed prescription glasses, and yet I have horrible eyesight.

When was the last time you spoke to the last person you kissed? December 2020.

Have you ever been your friend’s shoulder to cry on? Of course.

Grab your keys and tell me what each one is for. I only have two – house key and car key.

What is your wine of choice, if any? I don't have any. I drink wine quite often but was never interested in learning the different kinds. All I classify them as is either This Is Okay or This Is The Worst, lol.

Is your bed against more than one of your walls? Yup.

Have you ever made out in your room? Last time? Sure. 4 years ago.

Do you have a crazy aunt? I can think of one Trump fanatic grand aunt and anybody who's on that side of the political spectrum is crazy, so.

Have you ever been to an art museum? Of course. Lots of them.

What fictional character/s remind you of yourself? Diane Nguyen and Monica Geller.

Are you afraid of spiders? A little bit.

Are you afraid of snakes? Only if they're out to kill me, lmao. Otherwise I've held snakes before.

Do you often post about politics on social media? Of course. To stay silent is to oppress.

[ayearwithoutwater]

Six.

“Love Again” was one of my immediate favorites upon the release of Dua Lipa’s 2020 album Future Nostalgia. I remember thinking that that album was a solid pop record: its sledgehammer hooks are underpinned by immaculate grooves, and its sonic palette yearns for the disco ‘70s. It’s no surprise, therefore, that 2020 was also the year that I finally educated myself about the music of the inimitable Donna Summer.

I was raised on the piano. My mother had a great love for the instrument but never had the time to learn, so she would live her dreams through me. Beginning as early as age five, I was expected to practice daily on the household piano, originally an old upright piano that was later swapped out for a baby grand Kawai. During car trips, the radio was only ever attuned to classical stations.

Naturally, as I grew up, I developed my own likes and dislikes. Through my bedroom radio, I discovered the likes of Michelle Branch, Avril Lavigne, and Hilary Duff via Radio Disney. Classmates introduced me to LimeWire, which came into my life just before MySpace did, too. Although it was more widely known for being the proto-Facebook, MySpace was also the premier venue for music discovery, in which I would get lost for hours as I scoured for new music. I wanted the coolest song to display on my profile by musicians who were obscure-but-not-too-obscure, and it’s how I came to be a fan of Taking Back Sunday, Something Corporate, and Senses Fail. Music became my first love because I, like so many others, sought to escape an unhappy home; a catchy melody could take up residence in my head, and obsessing over lyrics occupied my mind. My school journals from this period of my life are still covered in my scrawled doodling as I incorporated into my imagination the lyrics of Hot Fuss, my favorite album by The Killers.

One June day after my big breakup, I wandered SoHo with my sister. In the downstairs section of the MoMA Design Store, she played the opening chords of “Clair de Lune”—one of my favorite melodies of all time—on a standing keyboard, evoking a deep sense of nostalgia from within me. As she played, I told myself that, if I managed to patch things up with Henry, I would play the piano with him.

I can pinpoint the exact moment I realized Henry was falling for me. We had been dating for a couple of months, and I was randomly scrolling through his Instagram feed. (Habitually, on social media, I mute or suppress notifications from the men I date unless I think it’s become serious enough to unmute.) I came across a recent video he’d uploaded of himself sitting at an upright piano in his parents’ home, playing his way through and singing “Love Again.” Partway through watching the video, it struck me that he was singing about me.

I have to admit, I was charmed.

We were still in the early stages of our relationship at that point, but all the signs were there of something more taking root. We were spending all of our time together and I had begun to meet his close friends. He was constantly in my apartment to the point that we were starting to discuss eventually moving in together. I knew he was special, I knew I needed to protect him, yet still I feel like I ultimately screwed it up.

When it all ended, I tried to find refuge in music. (I was basically catatonic, anyways, so all I could do was lay in bed and listen to the same sad songs on repeat.) Each year, I create a playlist of songs that I’ve come to enjoy during that year; 2022’s playlist, however, is still a field of landmines for me all this time later—listening, even now, only transports me back to the darkest chapter of my life, where all I could think about was him, him, and him.

Some of those songs include: Tina Turner, “Private Dancer” Harry Styles, “As It Was” Percy Sledge, “Love Me Tender” Kehlani, “altar”

In my time of need, music also had a funny way of finding me.

Before this, I’d never spoken to my parents about my love life. It’s a subject for another time, but suffice it to say that credit should be given where it is due: my mother tried. When she learned what had happened, she suggested that I go back to California for a brief reprieve. So, with my tail tucked between my legs, I went home. That year, I returned to California more times than I did in the past half-decade combined.

In my (American) hometown, I tried to recuperate. Being away from the hustle of New York and being away from Henry, I hate to admit, did bring me some measure of relief. I spent time with my loving, dopey, three-legged dog as well as my friends from high school. I even tried to shoehorn myself into (ill-advised) hookups, rationalizing that I needed to learn how to mingle once more.

I agreed to meet one man, someone I'd met only once before, but neither of us was able to host this time. He came up with a solution, claiming that he had a friend who'd offered us their house for our use. The address he gave me looked suspiciously familiar, but still I drove to it, bad idea notwithstanding, because I was a shell of myself and I no longer cared about propriety.

I showed up. I knocked on the front door, he let me in, and we did the deed. Post-coitus an hour later, after I had put myself back together, I left, and—instead of going straight to my parked car—I went next door and rang the doorbell.

The door opened, and I was greeted by my childhood piano teacher.

Because I don’t often revisit my hometown, I’m sometimes asked to look in on her. As I took a seat in her living room, I looked around—two grand pianos side by side, a couple of dogs, a few cats—and recalled all the years I spent in that very same room, oftentimes a welcome reprieve from my quarrelsome parents. She was a fierce, blunt instructor who hailed from Beijing and possessed a strong streak of kindness. She taught me more than just music theory: her home was where I learned how to regularly interact with pet dogs and cats, and it was where I had my first taste of (my now-beloved) oxtail. After one instance of my childhood self breaking down in tears as a result of her tough reprimands, she softened her approach with me and we developed a good rapport.

I hadn’t seen her since I graduated college, so we had a lot to talk about. I told her about my life in New York and that I was in town to attend a wedding, which prompted the evergreen question of when I myself would be getting married. I wasn’t quite in the mood to come out to her at that moment, so I explained to her my ongoing breakup with my “girlfriend.”

She admonished me, telling me not to give up. She told me to go back to “her” apartment every day, with flowers and gifts, until “she” either shooed me away or, God willing, took me back, because that’s what a man does when he’s truly devoted to his partner.

I merely nodded along. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d spent months sending “her” red roses and apologies between New York and Singapore, that I’d bawled my eyes out every night, every week, that I grieved the disappearance of the one person out of all my past lovers I ever wanted to marry, that I was functionally a zombie because I’d lost my better half forever. Thus, I listened to my piano teacher and pretended to agree that I would go back to New York and make all my amends. By then, I already knew that “she” wasn’t ever coming back.

My teacher switched topics to idle gossip. I updated her on the activities of my immediate family; she talked about her neighbors. Interestingly, there was one neighbor in particular who she’d known since he was six years old. Now in his thirties, he was openly gay and still lived in the same house. She’d installed security cameras all over her property and even once called the police to investigate the strange men coming and going from his home…because he lived right next door.

After our visit ended, I drove to a random plaza, where I sat on a nondescript bench and mulled my thoughts over a blended taro slush drink and pan-fried soup dumplings, alone. She’d told me not to give up, but I knew I had to; I was certain that I needed to move on.

As I ate, I pulled out my phone—with its battery at less than five percent—and began another listen of my 2022 playlist.