#but this is the new version and i’m so pleased with it

[i2sunric]

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 (p.sh)

PAIRING: sunghoon x pregnant!reader (f)

SUMMARY: when the two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test, the life you had so meticulously built crumbled. but sunghoon gathered the pieces back together, shaping a new life with your two babies.

WARNINGS: pregnancy, suggestive and mentions of sex (no smut), angst (if you squint?), fluff, crack by the end, sunghoon is so caring, their love makes me puke, description of labour and a c-section (i gathered my knowledge from grace anatomy), reader worries a lot, sunghoon works hard, twins (yohan and haneul), bed rest, a little complication with one of the babies, happy ending, pet names (babe, baby), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 3rd March 2025

WC: 6.5k

TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @enhamonsterghoul @star-hoon (oneshot) @starry-eyed-bimbo @saphiranishimurashan @jkslvsnella @vrusha01 @notcamii @deluluscenarios @m1kkso @youngheejay @lovingvoidgoatee @motherscrustytoenailclippings @sukisvr @yoonzns @kayjiguki @12e45 @irahina @geniejunn BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

NOW PLAYING: Unconditionally by Katy Perry.

a/n: i hope y’all like this, please REBLOG to share and stay tuned for the other members’ fics. <3 sorry for any grammar error, i’m sleep deprived. anw, do you think i should make a small drabble when the twins are older too? lmk.

You hadn’t planned for this. No one really does, do they? 

One month ago, you were just a college student, studying hard, dreaming of the future, with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, by your side.

The two of you were inseparable, sharing classes, meals, and the occasional late-night walk around campus when life felt too overwhelming. 

You thought you had time. time to grow, to figure things out, to live freely before settling into something serious.

But life had other plans.

When you found out you were pregnant, it hit you like a train. 

You remembered sitting on the cold bathroom floor of your dorm, clutching the positive test in your trembling hands, staring at it until the lines blurred from your tears. 

The first thing you thought about wasn’t yourself but Sunghoon. 

What would he say? What would he do? Would he be scared, angry… relieved?

He wasn’t any of those things. 

When you told him, he just pulled you into his arms, held you so tightly you thought you’d break, and whispered over and over that he loved you. That he’d take care of you. That you’d figure this out together.

But love wasn’t enough to stop reality from crashing down.

The college didn’t offer much sympathy. 

As soon as you dropped out—because there was no way you could keep up with tuition and prepare for a baby—they kicked you out of the dorm. No exceptions.

You weren’t a student anymore, so you didn’t belong. It didn’t matter that you’d lived there for years.

You packed up what little you had, stuffing clothes and textbooks into worn-out suitcases while Sunghoon silently paced the small room, phone pressed to his ear as he tried to find somewhere — anywhere — for the two of you to go.

By some miracle, he did.

It wasn’t much. A tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city, far from campus, far from everything you knew. 

The rent was low because the building was old and falling apart, but it had four walls, a roof, and running water. It was home.

Sunghoon tried to stay strong. He was a student, just like you had been, with assignments and exams and his own dreams. 

But those dreams had been put on hold— at least, the version of them he once had. Now, instead of studying in the library with his friends, he was filling out job applications. 

Instead of thinking about internships or grad school, he was wondering how to pay for diapers and formula.

He landed a part-time job at a convenience store after a week of searching, and though he came home every night exhausted and smelling like instant noodles and cold air, he always kissed you softly and asked how you were feeling, if the babies were okay.

Babies. Plural.

That had been another shock, one you’d gotten at your first ultrasound: Two little heartbeats. Two little lives. 

You’d cried then, too. Half out of fear, half out of something that felt a little like awe. Sunghoon had cried with you, holding your hand so tightly his knuckles went white, whispering that it would be okay.

And you believed him. For a little while.

But things were hard. 

The convenience store paycheck wasn’t enough, not when rent, groceries, and prenatal visits drained it so quickly. And even if your parents managed to send you their savings, it still was too little for prenatal vitamins and all the things you had to buy for when the twins would be born.

Sunghoon started losing sleep, staying up late to study after work, waking up early to make it to class, and somehow still managing to hold you when you couldn’t stop crying because your body was changing faster than you could handle, because you felt like a burden, because you were terrified.

You wanted to find a job too. You tried.

But no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman, not even when you were only two months along. 

You didn’t even look pregnant, not really but employers seemed to know, somehow. They’d glance at your belly, at your tired eyes, and find a reason to turn you away.

“We’ll call you,” they’d say. They never did.

It was unfair. You were competent, you had your high school diploma. You could work, you could help. but no one would let you.

Sunghoon told you it was okay. That you should rest. That you were doing enough by taking care of yourself and the babies.

But you saw the way he clenched his jaw when he checked his bank account. You saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the frustration he tried to hide.

One night, after a particularly long shift, he came home, threw his keys on the kitchen counter, and just… broke.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, leaning against the wall, head in his hands. “I’m trying, but it’s not enough… it’s never enough.”

You’d never seen him like that before. Sunghoon was always calm, always steady, the one who grounded you when you felt like you were falling apart. 

But now he was the one unraveling, and you didn’t know how to help.

You went to him, kneeling beside him on the cold tile floor, and took his hands in yours “We’ll figure it out,” you whispered, echoing the words he’d once said to you. “We’ll find a way.”

He just shook his head. “I don’t want you to worry about this, you shouldn’t have to.”

“I already do,” you admitted, your voice soft but firm. “I worry every day, about you, about the babies, about what’s going to happen to us. But we’re in this together, Hoon, you’re not alone.”

And maybe that was what he needed to hear.

Because he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, and for the first time in a long time, you both let yourselves be scared.

And somehow, in the middle of all the fear and exhaustion, there were moments of happiness. 

Late-night talks in bed, Sunghoon’s hand resting on your belly, feeling the faintest flutter of movement. The way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world, even when you felt anything but.

It wasn’t the life you’d imagined. But it was a fresh start, and you were going to make it work.

⪩⪨.

The chemistry between you and Sunghoon didn’t die, not even with the exhaustion, the stress, or the growing weight of reality pressing down on you both.

If anything, it seemed to shift into something deeper, more intimate. 

Perhaps it was the hormones, or maybe it was the way Sunghoon looked at you— like you were made of glass and fire all at once. 

There were nights when you’d reach for him, despite everything, when your body burned with a desperate, aching need that you couldn’t ignore. 

It was embarrassing at first — how could you think about sex when there was so much to worry about? But Sunghoon never made you feel ashamed.

Even when he was exhausted, after long shifts at the convenience store and nights spent studying, if you whispered his name softly enough, he’d turn to you, his tired eyes softening, and touch you so gently it made you want to cry.

“You sure?” he’d ask, voice husky with sleep, his thumb tracing circles on your hip.

And when you nodded, needy and aching, he’d love you slowly, sweetly, like you were something precious. 

His hands, rough from work and cold from the night air, would warm against your skin, spreading goosebumps as they moved over your growing belly, your curves softening into something maternal and foreign to you both.

“I love you,” he’d whisper, over and over, like a promise.

And when it was over, he’d hold you, tracing patterns on your back until you fell asleep, his hand never leaving your stomach, like he needed to feel all three of you were still there.

Still his.

⪩⪨.

You hated feeling useless. No matter how many times Sunghoon told you to rest, to take care of yourself and the babies, the guilt sat heavy on your chest; a constant reminder that while he was out there working himself to the bone, you were at home, waiting.

So, you kept looking for a job.

And eventually, you found one.

It wasn’t much: a small corner café, tucked away in the older part of town. 

The owner, a kind older woman named Mrs. Park, had taken one look at you and seemed to understand without you having to say a word.

She didn’t ask about the pregnancy, didn’t ask why you were looking for work so urgently. She just handed you an apron and asked if you could start the next morning.

You said yes before she could change her mind.

The hours were short, just enough to bring home a small paycheck without overworking yourself. Between morning sickness, aching feet, and the constant hum of anxiety, you managed. 

The work kept your mind busy, and the extra money, small as it was, helped. anything to lighten the weight on Sunghoon’s shoulders.

The best part was the way his face lit up when you handled him your first paycheck, small and wrinkled from being folded into your pocket all day.

“You didn’t have to…” he whispered, holding the check like it was made of gold.

“I know,” you said, leaning up to kiss him softly. “But I wanted to.”

He didn’t say anything after that, just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly enough that you felt the tremor in his hands.

Money was still tight.

You became an expert at stretching every dollar, buying second-hand things for the babies: clothes, a crib, even a stroller someone had listed online for half the price. 

You cleaned everything, scrubbed it down until it looked new, and though it wasn’t the Pinterest-perfect nursery you’d once dreamed of, but it was enough.

⪩⪨.

The fifth month of pregnancy crept up on you quietly, like the tide rolling in, soft and inevitable, until one day you looked in the mirror and saw someone entirely new. 

Your belly had grown, round and firm, stretched with the weight of the two tiny humans inside you. It was impossible to hide anymore.

You were blooming.

Despite the morning sickness that still lingered some days, and the exhaustion that settled into your bones like a permanent guest, there was something undeniably radiant about you now. 

Your skin glowed, cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue, and your hair became somehow shinier and thicker.

Even your eyes seemed brighter, though you chalk that up to getting more sleep now that you weren’t balancing school and work.

“Wow, pregnancy looks good on you,” Mrs. Park had said one morning at the café, handing you a fresh cup of chamomile tea instead of the coffee you so desperately wanted.

You had laughed, shaking your head, brushing flour off your apron. “I feel like a beached whale.”

“You look like a goddess,” she insisted, patting your arm gently before returning to the kitchen.

It wasn’t just her, either. Customers complimented you more often now, commenting on your “glow,” asking when you were due, if you knew the genders yet. 

Some people even touched your belly without asking, which drove you insane, but you bit your tongue and smiled through it, knowing they meant well.

Still, no amount of glowing or compliments could change the fact that you were tired. 

All the time.

Your body ached in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Your back throbbed almost constantly, the strain of carrying twins becoming more obvious with each passing week. 

Walking more than a few blocks left you breathless, and your feet… Lord, your feet.

They swelled like balloons by the end of every day, tight and aching, even when you sat down as much as possible at work.

You’d become clumsy, too. You knocked things over more than once at the café, sending cups crashing to the floor, apologizing profusely as you bent down (with great effort) to clean up the mess.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Park always said, shooing you away. “Go sit down for a minute. You’re carrying two humans, for heaven’s sake.”

When you got home from work, you always tried to clean the apartment before Sunghoon came back. 

It was small, but you wanted it to feel like a home, not just a temporary place you were stuck in. You’d make the bed, wipe down the tiny kitchen counters, and vacuum the living room—all while trying not to collapse from exhaustion.

Sometimes, you’d manage to cook dinner too, though more often than not, you just ordered something cheap and easy, feeling guilty but knowing you couldn’t push yourself too hard.

Sunghoon never complained.

When he came home, usually around sunset, the door would creak open, and you heard the familiar sound of his keys hitting the small bowl by the entrance.

“Babe?” he called, voice soft but tired.

“In here,” you answered from the couch, where you’d usually ended up, legs propped up on a pillow to help with the swelling.

He appeared in the doorway, still in his uniform from the convenience store, black slacks and a button-up shirt, a little wrinkled, smelling faintly of coffee and instant ramen. His hair tousled from the wind, dark eyes warm but weary.

Without fail, he smiled the moment he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, crossing the room to kneel beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your belly. “How are my girls?”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile came anyway. “Or boys.”

“Or one of each,” he teased, hands gentle as they splayed over your bump, feeling for any kicks.

“How was work?”

He sighed, leaning his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. “Long… some guy tried to shoplift again, i’m starting to think I should charge admission fees for all the chaos.”

You laughed softly, fingers brushing through his hair, knowing how much he hated that job but how hard he was trying to keep it for you, for the babies.

“I made dinner,” you said, though ‘made’ meant heating the leftovers you had in th fridge.

“Mhh,” he murmured, already half-asleep against you. “I’d rather eat you. Cheaper and more delicious.”

You smacked his head lightly “You’re almost collapsing, go eat, Hoon.”

“Alright,” he kissed your cheek and got up, moving towards the kitchen “But I’ll have you as a dessert!”

⪩⪨.

Nights were the hardest.

Your body ached more at night, your back screaming every time you tried to find a comfortable position in bed. 

You’d toss and turn, sometimes getting up to walk around the apartment because lying down just hurt too much.

Sunghoon always noticed, even when you tried to be quiet.

One night, around three in the morning, you were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking water and rubbing your lower back, when you heard him shuffle out of bed.

“Babe?” His voice was thick with sleep, hair sticking up in every direction.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Without a word, he walked over, stood behind you, and began to massage your shoulders, his thumbs pressing gently into the knots that seemed permanent these days.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

His hands were warm and firm, working down your back slowly, easing the tension until you melted against him, sighing softly.

“You okay?” he asked after a while, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes closing as you leaned into his warmth. “Just… tired.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his hands never stopping their slow, comforting motion. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I feel like a whale.”

“You’re beautiful,” he insisted, his voice so sincere it made your throat tighten. “You’re carrying our babies, that’s… incredible.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to brush your lips against his. 

It was soft, warm, and lingering, a kiss that spoke of gratitude, of love, of something deeper than either of you had words for.

“Come back to bed,” he whispered.

And when you did, he wrapped himself around you, one arm under your belly, supporting its weight, the other tangled in your hair. His body was warm, steady, grounding.

You fell asleep like that, safe and held, and for a little while, all the worry, all the exhaustion, all the fear melted away.

⪩⪨.

By the seventh month, everything changed.

Your doctor had been gentle, but firm, when she sat you down after your check-up, her eyes soft with concern.

“I’m putting you on immediate bed rest,” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Your body is straining too hard, and with twins, that’s dangerous, iknow you’ve been trying to push through, but if you keep this up, there’s a high risk of preterm labor —or worse.”

“Worse?” you had repeated, barely above a whisper.

The idea of something happening to your babies was too much to comprehend.

You felt your chest tighten, your hands instinctively cradling your belly as though you could protect them from the world with just that small gesture.

“I’ll give you a list of things you need like vitamins and supplements, carrying two is an enormous strain, and I want you and the babies safe.”

You hadn’t argued. You were too scared to argue.

You’d complied immediately, even though it meant using some of the money you and Sunghoon had saved for the babies. money that was supposed to go toward diapers, formula, a proper crib. 

Instead, you’d bought the prenatal vitamins your doctor insisted on, the ones you’d been avoiding because they were expensive and you thought you could get by without them.

When you told Sunghoon, he didn’t complain.

“We’ll figure it out,” he’d said that night, after helping you into bed, his hand warm and steady against your swollen belly. “You’re not going to worry about money right now, i’ll pick up more shifts.”

“But—”

“No.” his voice was gentle but firm, leaving no room for protest. “I mean it. I’ll handle it… for them.”

He always said ‘for them,’ and that was all it took to silence your guilt.

Even Mrs. Park, kind as ever, had understood. When you called to tell her you couldn’t come to work anymore, your voice shaking with apology, she stopped you before you could even finish.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare apologize. You’re having twins! Focus on your health, and don’t be afraid to ask if you need anything.”

You’d cried after that call,not out of sadness, but out of gratitude.

A week into bed rest, you found out the genders.

The ultrasound revealed it clearly— one boy and one girl. You hadn’t realized how emotional you’d be until you saw their tiny forms on the screen, moving, kicking, their hearts beating strong and fast.

“They’re healthy,” the technician had said with a smile, pointing out their little hands, their spines, the curve of their heads.

In the cab ride home, you and Sunghoon sat in stunned, happy silence, hands clasped tightly together over your belly.

Later that night, lying in bed, you’d brought up names.

“I want their names to match,” you murmured, your head on Sunghoon’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, your own hands tracing the curve of your belly.

“Like… rhyme?” he asked, sounding a little amused, his fingers lazily playing with your hair, “Not rhyme, just… sound good together, you know?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, uhm, Do you like Yohan?”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Yohan?”

“Yeah. For the boy.” You let the name roll around in your mind, “I like it,” you whispered.

“And for the girl?” he asked, looking down at you, waiting.

You thought for a long moment. “Haneul.”

His lips curved into a soft smile. “Yohan and Haneul.”

“Yohan and Haneul,” you repeated, the names fitting together like puzzle pieces, like they were always meant to be spoken side by side.

“Perfect,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “They’re going to be perfect.”

Bed rest, however, was not perfect.

You knew it was necessary, you wanted to do everything in your power to keep your babies safe, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Sitting on the couch all day, only to move back to the bed or the kitchen chair, made you restless and bored out of your mind. 

You felt horrible, especially knowing Sunghoon was working harder than ever to keep everything together.

He had picked up more shifts at the convenience store, working late into the night, coming home exhausted but still smiling, still touching your belly and asking how “his little ones” were doing.

You tried to keep the apartment clean as best you could from your limited range like folding laundry from the couch, wiping down surfaces slowly, feeling winded even from that.

One evening, Sunghoon came home to find you trying to sweep the floor, your back screaming in protest, your belly making it hard to even bend slightly.

“What are you doing?” he asked, immediately taking the broom from your hands.

“…cleaning.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I can’t just sit around all day, Sunghoon.” You snapped, harsher than intended.

He sighed, setting the broom aside, and took your hands gently in his, guiding you to sit back on the couch.

“You’re growing two humans inside you,” he reminded you softly, kneeling in front of you, his hands warm against your knees. “That’s not useless, that’s… everything.”

You blinked, your throat tight, feeling tears threaten to spill over. 

Damn pregnancy hormones.

“I just… I hate seeing you do everything,” you whispered.

“I don’t mind,” he said, and you could tell he meant it. “I love you, I love them.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he leaned into your touch like he always did, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment of peace.

“I’m so tired,” you admitted softly.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss t your belly. “I know, baby.”

⪩⪨.

The pain came fast and without warning.

One moment, you were shifting uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing circles over your swollen belly, trying to ease the dull ache in your back.

The next, a sharp, unbearable pressure shot through you, like your entire body was twisting in on itself.

You gasped, hands flying to your stomach. 

The next contraction came even harder, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your vision blurred as panic set in.

Your phone. Where was your phone?

With trembling hands, you fumbled around the couch cushions until you found it, barely able to press the call button before another wave of pain wracked through you. 

The dial tone rang endlessly in your ears before Sunghoon’s voice finally cut through.

“Hey, baby, what’s—”

“Sunghoon,” you choked out, voice shaking. “It’s happening.”

Silence.  “What?”

“The babies—” You couldn’t even get the words out properly. 

You were panting, your whole body trembling, the pain stretching and pulling in ways that made you want to scream. “You need to come home, please.”

“I’m on my way,” he said immediately, his voice tight. 

You could hear the sound of his chair scraping back, the muffled voices of his classmates as he grabbed his things in a rush. “Stay on the phone with me, are you in pain?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as another contraction hit.

“Baby, you need to breathe,” he said, his voice urgent but gentle. “In through your nose, out through your mouth, you remember what the doctor said, right? Just focus on that until I get there.”

You tried. You really did. But the pain was overwhelming, and all you could do was grip the armrest of the couch, gasping through each agonizing wave. 

Minutes stretched into eternity before you finally heard the sound of the front door slamming open.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice was frantic as he rushed to your side, immediately crouching down in front of you. 

His hands found your face, your belly, anywhere he could touch to ground you.

“I can’t—” You broke off, biting back a sob. “It hurts, Sunghoon.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his own breath shaky. “But we need to go, okay? Can you stand?”

You nodded weakly, though your legs felt like jelly. Sunghoon slipped an arm around your waist, practically lifting you off the couch as he guided you toward the door. 

Each step sent another sharp wave of pain through you, and by the time you reached the car, you were sobbing into his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he kept whispering. “I’ve got you,.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur of pain and panic. 

Sunghoon gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, running every red light, ignoring every honk and shout from passing cars. Every few seconds, he’d glance over at you, his face lined with worry.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he kept saying, even when you were barely holding yourself together. “We’re almost there. Just hold on for me, okay?”

When you finally arrived, nurses swarmed around you, wheeling you through the halls while Sunghoon ran beside the gurney, his hand never leaving yours.

“She’s having twins,” he told them, his voice strained. “She’s in labour, please, you have to help her.”

They nodded, moving quickly, and before you knew it, you were in a hospital bed, strapped to monitors, IVs in your arm, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling your nose. 

The contractions were coming faster now, sharper, stronger, making your whole body arch off the bed in pain.

“It hurts,” you sobbed, gripping Sunghoon’s hand so tight you were sure you’d break his fingers.

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispered, pressing frantic kisses to your damp forehead. “You”re doing great.”

The doctor came in moments later, her face grave. “You’re not dilating fast enough,” she said. “And with twins, we can’t risk waiting, ae need to perform a C-section.”

Your heart stopped.

“No,” you gasped, shaking your head. “I— I don’t want—”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon whispered, his forehead pressed against yours. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to be cut open,” you sobbed. “Sunghoon, please—”

His hands cradled your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I know, I know,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “But we have to do what’s best for them, okay? I promise I’ll be right there the whole time.”

You searched his eyes desperately, finding nothing but love, worry, and unwavering determination.

You nodded, swallowing down your fear.

They prepped you quickly, the spinal anesthesia numbing you from the waist down, but the fear still clawed at your chest.

Sunghoon was right beside you, wearing scrubs over his clothes, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

You barely felt it when they made the incision, but you felt the pressure, the pulling, the strange sensation of something being moved inside you.

And then—

A cry. Loud and strong.

Your heart clenched as they lifted Yohan into the air, his tiny fists flailing, his lungs filled with life.

“A boy,” the doctor said, smiling. “A very strong little boy.”

Tears blurred your vision as you watched the nurse wrap him in a blanket. He was perfect. Tiny, but perfect.

But then—something was wrong.

Haneul wasn’t crying.

Your breath hitched. You turned to Sunghoon, his face pale with fear.

“Why isn’t she crying?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice.

The doctor was already working, her expression serious as she cleared her airway, checked her vitals.

Seconds stretched into eternity before… A weak, but definite, wail.

Your entire body sagged with relief.

“She’s small,” the doctor said. “She needs monitoring, but she’s here.”

“She’s here,” Sunghoon echoed, his voice breaking.

By the time they stitched you up and wheeled you to recovery, it was just the four of you.

You were exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open, but you watched as Sunghoon cradled Yohan in his arms, his eyes filled with pure love.

“She looks like you,” he whispered, glancing at Haneul, who was wrapped up in a tiny incubator beside your bed.

You let out a weak laugh. “She looks like you, too.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving me them.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you reached for his hand, squeezing weakly.

“I would have never made it without you,” you whispered.

⪩⪨.

The first few days were harder than anything you could have imagined.

Your body was broken, stitched together but still aching, bruised, raw. 

Every movement sent sharp, burning pain through your abdomen, making even the simplest tasks feel impossible. And yet, you had no choice, there were two tiny humans depending on you.

Two.

The weight of it was crushing. You were a mother now, not just to one baby, but two. Yohan and Haneul. 

They were small, fragile, barely able to hold up their own heads, and they needed you every second of the day.

But you were exhausted. 

Completely, utterly drained.

The moment you stepped foot into the small apartment, holding Haneul while Sunghoon carried Yohan in his arms, you felt the overwhelming urge to collapse onto the bed and sleep for days.

Except you couldn’t.

Because the twins were already stirring, their tiny mouths opening and closing, their bodies wriggling in search of warmth and nourishment.

You barely had time to lower yourself onto the couch before the wailing started. 

First Haneul, her tiny lungs stronger than you would’ve expected for how fragile she looked. Then Yohan, following his sister’s lead as if he had to compete for who could cry the loudest.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, pressing a hand over your face. “How are they so loud?”

Sunghoon, looking just as exhausted, stared down at Yohan with wide eyes. “Do we… do we rock them?”

“No, let’s just leave them to cry themselves to sleep,” you deadpanned.

Sunghoon shot you a look. “Alright, alright, picking them up now.”

He rocked Yohan awkwardly, bouncing him slightly, but the baby only cried harder.

You tried to do the same with Haneul, wincing as you shifted to hold her properly against your chest. Your stitches screamed in protest, and you had to bite back a whimper of pain.

“Shh, baby,” you whispered, rubbing her tiny back. “Please, just a few minutes of peace.”

Breastfeeding had been one of the most painful surprises of motherhood.

 You had read about it, heard stories, but nothing prepared you for the sheer agony of tiny mouths latching onto already sore and swollen breasts.

Haneul latched on first, her tiny hands pressing against your skin. Yohan squirmed in Sunghoon’s arms, waiting for his turn impatiently.

“God, they eat like they haven’t been fed in years,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting beside you.

You snorted, adjusting Haneul in your arms as she sucked greedily. The pain was unbearable at first, but after a while, you barely noticed it, you were too tired to care.

Once she was done, you carefully passed her to Sunghoon, who traded her for Yohan.

Yohan latched on immediately, his tiny fingers curling into your skin.

Sunghoon stared at the two of you, his eyes soft. “You’re amazing, you know?”

You huffed. “Tell me that when I don’t feel like a cow being milked.”

He chuckled, gently rocking Haneul in his arms. “I mean it, you just gave birth a few days ago, and you’re already handling both of them.”

You wanted to tell him you weren’t handling anything. That you were barely holding yourself together, that you felt like crying every second of the day. But you just leaned against him, exhaling slowly.

“We’re trying,” you murmured.

“We’re a family.” he retorted.

The days blurred into an exhausting, sleepless cycle: Feed. Change diapers. Cry. Repeat.

Bathing them was a whole new challenge.

“We don’t even have a tub,” you groaned, staring at the two tiny and stinky babies.

Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck. “We could… fill the sink?”

You stared at him. “You want to bathe our newborn babies in the kitchen sink?”

He lifted his hands defensively. “It’s clean! And small enough for them.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Fine, Just don’t drop them.”

Sunghoon grinned. “I would never.”

Ten minutes later, he almost dropped Yohan.

“Sunghoon!” you yelped, catching the baby before he could slip further into the water.“I had him!” Sunghoon insisted, looking guilty.

“You did not have him.”

He cleared his throat, adjusting his hold on Yohan. “Maybe this is a two-person job.”

“No shit.”

Together, you managed to get both babies cleaned, even if it was a messy, wet, and chaotic experience.

By the time they were wrapped in towels and back in your arms, you felt ready to pass out.

Sunghoon flopped onto the couch beside you, letting out a heavy sigh. “I think we deserve a medal for that.”

“You deserve a lecture,” you muttered. “Honestly, I don’t know if I should trust you with our children.”

He pouted. “That hurts, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned against him anyway, watching as Yohan and Haneul drifted off to sleep in your arms.

Sunghoon kissed your temple, his voice softer this time. “We’ll get better at this.”

“We have to,” you said. “They depend on us.”

“And we depend on each other.” He squeezed your hand. “We’re in this together, baby. Always.”

Always.

⪩⪨.

The twins were finally asleep.

You exhaled a deep, shaky breath as you slumped onto the couch, every muscle in your body aching from exhaustion. It had taken forever to get them down, rocking, shushing, feeding, changing diapers, starting over again when one cried and the other followed. But now, for a few precious hours, there was silence.

Sunghoon collapsed beside you, his head tilting back against the cushions. He let out a low groan, rubbing a hand down his face. “Holy shit, that was brutal.”

You huffed out a weak laugh. “I thought we were gonna die.”

He turned his head to look at you, smiling softly. “We can’t possibly be defeated by two itty bitty humans.”

You let your head fall against his shoulder, your eyes closing for a moment.

Your body reminded you of the pain you were still inn with a dull, persistent ache in your abdomen.

Sunghoon felt your wince before you even said anything. He shifted, glancing down at you with concern. “You okay?”

You swallowed, opening your eyes. “Scar still hurts.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and without a word, he helped you sit up.

“Let’s take care of it,” he said. “Come on.”

The apartment was small, barely enough for the two of you before the twins arrived. Now, it felt even smaller, cluttered with diapers, bottles, and tiny clothes drying on a rack in the corner.

But somehow, Sunghoon still made it feel like home.

He guided you to the bathroom, his hands careful and steady as he helped you undress.

You hesitated when your shirt lifted, revealing the healing incision across your lower abdomen. The skin was still angry and red, the stitches tight. It wasn’t pretty.

Sunghoon didn’t even blink. He just crouched down, his fingertips ghosting over the area as if touching too hard might hurt you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not,” he said, his voice firm. He kissed just above the scar, lingering for a moment before looking up at you. “This is proof of how strong you are, I love it, I love you.”

You felt something in your chest tighten, an unexpected warmth spreading through you.

“Stop making me emotional,” you muttered, blinking back tears.

He grinned, standing up again. “Can’t help it. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sunghoon washed your hair, fingers massaging your scalp with a tenderness that nearly made you melt. He was careful around your scar, using light touches to clean the area before wrapping you in a warm towel.

You felt better when you stepped out. Not great, not healed, but better.

He sat you down on the closed toilet seat, kneeling in front of you to apply the ointment the doctor had given you. His hands were warm, his touch featherlight.

“Still hurts?” he asked softly.

“A little,” you admitted. “But it’s better when you do it.”

His lips quirked up. “Guess I’ve got the magic touch.”

Once he finished, he helped you into a fresh set of pajamas, sighing when he noticed the stains on your old shirt.

“Your boobs are leaking again.”

You groaned, rubbing at your eyes. “I know… I feel like a damn cow.”

Sunghoon chuckled, helping you put on a fresh nursing bra before tugging a clean shirt over your head. “You’re not a cow, you’re an amazing mom.”

You gave him a look. “An amazing cow mom.”

He pinched your side gently, making you squeak. “Shut up and get in bed.”

You let him guide you back to the bedroom, sighing as you sank into the sheets. He pulled the blankets up to your chin, tucking you in like you were the fragile one, not the twins sleeping soundly in their shared bassinet.

Sunghoon sat beside you for a moment, brushing your hair back from your face.

“You should get some sleep,” he murmured.

You blinked at him,realizing why he hadn’t changed into his pyjamas snd wasn’t under the covers with you “You need to get ready for work.”

“I’ll leave in a bit,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay first.”

You reached up, curling your fingers around his wrist. “I don’t want you to go.”

His expression softened. “I know, baby. But we need the money.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “I hate this.”

“I do too.” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “But we’ll get through it.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did.

But when exhaustion pulled you under, all you could think about was how hard everything was. How much you missed just being you and him.

How much you missed having him next to you, instead of leaving every night to work while you lay awake, waiting for the next time the twins would cry.

Sunghoon stayed until your breathing evened out, pressing one last kiss to your cheek before slipping away to get ready for work.

Even if he hated leaving, he had to. For you. For Yohan and Haneul.

For the life you had built together, not perfect, but beautiful.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 23 - desperation

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, mentions of alcohol

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

"i thought it was you."

those words hung heavy in the air, like a slap to the face.

you blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “what?”

rafe exhaled shakily, his fingers twitching at his sides. “i- i was wasted, y/n. i could barely stand, top said i was mumbling your name all night and then when this girl came up to me, i thought-” his voice cracked, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “i didn't see her face, she just came up to me and pulled me in. i thought no one else would do that but you. i thought it was you."

you stared at him, your breath caught in your throat. “that's bullshit.”

rafe shook his head quickly. “it’s not. i swear to you, y/n, i wasn’t thinking. i wasn’t there.” his voice was desperate now, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “i closed my eyes, and in my head, it was you. it was always you.”

you sucked in a sharp breath, something inside you fracturing. “do you have any idea what it felt like?” your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to keep going. “to wake up, check my phone, and see you with someone else? to have everyone sending me that picture? you made me feel like i was so easy to let go of. like everything between us meant nothing."

he flinched, his whole body tensing.

“because that’s what it felt like, rafe.” your voice finally broke, and the tears spilled over before you could stop them. “you made me feel like i was worth nothing."

his face crumbled. “you're not nothing y/n. i hate myself for making you feel that way. i hate that you think that's how i see you."

you wiped your cheeks, shaking your head. "then how do you see me rafe?"

"i see you as my everything," he took a step closer, "i see you as the most beautiful girl that walks in any room. i see you as the girl who can cheer anyone up in seconds. i see you as the person who makes me a better version of myself. i see me only with you."

you avoided his gaze, not allowing him to see that he was getting to you, “i needed you. i needed you to fight for me, to show me that i wasn’t crazy for loving you.”

rafe took another step closer, eyes pleading. “you were never crazy for loving me.”

“i needed you." you choked out.

his face twisted in anguish. “i’m so fucking sorry.” his voice cracked, a tear slipped down his cheek. “tell me what to do. tell me how to fix this. i'll do anything.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache in your chest. but then you heard it—his voice, barely above a whisper.

“y/n… please don’t shut me out.”

you swallowed hard, nails digging into your palms.

he hurt you. he broke you. he let you walk away and didn’t come after you.

but he was here now.

and for the first time in weeks, you weren’t alone in this pain.

your resolve cracked, just a little.

“i don’t know how to do this without you.” his hands twitched at his sides like he was dying to reach for you.

you let him.

his fingers grazed yours, hesitant, like he was scared you’d pull away.

you should have.

but the moment his skin met yours, a shiver ran through you, and every wall you had spent weeks building started to crumble.

rafe’s breath hitched, his grip tightening just slightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on. every touch more intimate than anything you'd experienced before.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice thick with emotion. “i’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.”

your throat burned, the weight of everything pressing down on you. “i don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, swallowing hard. “then let me earn it.”

you searched his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the rafe that was yours. the one who used to make you feel safe. the one who used to play the guitar and sing to you to help you sleep. the one who looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing. the one you fell in love with.

you should walk away. you should tell him it’s too late.

but instead, you did the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do.

you let him pull you into his arms.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: sorry this one isn't much smau, but i worked really hard on the writing for this so i hope you guys don't mind

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes@judesgfirl@4urvalidation@chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover@yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld@blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy@bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @kittenjujusblog @bambii1i @thesunflowersociety @wtfdudesblog @voidangxls @jjmaybankmylovee @munsoncultedits @emmiesummers @darlingstarkey @sassyvillaintrophy  @pogueprincesa @stylestarkey @sodapopwaldor

[gf2bellamy]

hi lovely :)!

I have a Spencer Reid x Reader req

(I’m new to requesting, and I also completely understand if you don’t want to write this)

Reader has been working at the bau for about less than a year, and hasn’t gone to hang out with anyone outside of work. Eventually one day she gets invited over to Garcia’s house for a team party, and to everyone’s surprise (especially Spencer’s) she dresses completely different outside of work, almost like a hyper manic pixie dream girl straight from the movies. Spencer complements her, and it leads to some budding romance and silly flirting :)

you can make any adjustments you’d like, I really don’t mind.

thank you!

- 🐞

dreamgirl — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing a/n: hiii 🐞 !! this request is so cute !! i loved writing this <3 also the pictures r just here for the aesthetic not necessarily representing readers outfit :) and i did a bit of research on hyper manic pixie dream girsl and i hope it's what you were thinking of ( i mostly took inspo from jessica day😭 )

The scent of vanilla frosting and freshly baked cake filled Garcia’s apartment as Spencer Reid carefully poured a bag of chips into a large glass bowl.

At the counter, Garcia was meticulously decorating a cake, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as she attempted to pipe a perfect heart in the center. “Ugh, this won’t work,” she muttered under her breath, squinting at her creation. 

Spencer glanced at her before the sound of the doorbell pulled his attention. 

“Can you get that?” Garcia asked, not looking up. “My hands are kind of full—literally, full of frosting and frustration.” 

He placed the half-empty bag of chips down and made his way to the door. As he pulled it open, his mouth fell slightly open, words momentarily escaping him. 

Standing there, holding a neatly wrapped box of cookies, was you. 

You, who always dressed in neutral tones at work. You, who usually blended in with the professional, serious atmosphere of the BAU. 

But this? This was a whole new side of you. 

You were wearing a vibrant, oversized cardigan covered in mismatched patterns—flowers, stars, maybe even a tiny dinosaur if he looked closely enough. Underneath, a pastel pink t-shirt featured a giant, cartoonish strawberry in the center. Your bag, also pink, was slung over your shoulder, covered in pins and keychains that jingled softly as you shifted on your feet. 

“Hi, Spencer!” you greeted cheerfully, eyes bright. “I’m so glad I found the right place.” You let out a small, nervous laugh. “I got lost, like, five times.” 

Spencer was still standing in the doorway, staring at you , trying to process what he was seeing. This was not what he had expected. 

Before he could formulate a response, a voice piped up behind him. 

“Boy genius, are you going to let her in, or are we just gonna leave her standing out there ?” 

Garcia appeared behind him, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel before stopping in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she took you in from head to toe. 

“Oh. My. God,” she gasped dramatically, hands flying to her chest. “This outfit is everything.” 

You laughed, cheeks warming under the attention. “I usually tone it down for work.” 

Garcia shook her head in mock disappointment. “Such a shame. We’ve been robbed of this fabulousness for months. But not tonight! Come in, my little pastel dream!” 

Spencer finally blinked, stepping aside to let you pass, still visibly processing the contrast between your work self and—this. 

You smiled at him as you walked by, completely unaware of the way he was still watching you, fascinated by this entirely new version of someone he thought he already knew. 

Garcia linked her arm through yours as she led you toward the kitchen. “Okay, we need to discuss this transformation immediately. Where do you shop? How do I get a cardigan like that? And—” she gasped dramatically “—please tell me you brought something sugary in that little box.” 

“I did,” you confirmed, holding up the cookies. 

“I knew I liked you.” 

Spencer lingered near the door for a moment before closing it behind him, a small, curious smile tugging at his lips. 

Half an hour later, nearly everyone had arrived, the team had been nothing but warm and welcoming. You’d lost count of the number of compliments you’d received—Emily had gushed over your cardigan, JJ had called you “adorable,” and even Derek had thrown in a playful “Look at you, all cute and colorful. Who would’ve thought?” 

Even Hotch—stoic, serious Hotch—had cracked the smallest hint of a smile and simply said, “It’s good to see you here.” 

Now, you found yourself drawn to one of Penelope’s many shelves, admiring the collection of trinkets she had displayed. Tiny figurines, colorful glass bottles, and an alarming number of cat-themed items covered nearly every inch. 

As you reached out to gently poke a ceramic cat with oversized eyes, a familiar presence appeared beside you. 

“It’s so cute,” you murmured, turning slightly when you realized Spencer was standing next to you. 

Spencer, who had been staring at you practically all night. Spencer, who had endured teasing remarks from both JJ and Derek about his obvious interest. 

He cleared his throat, glancing quickly at the figurine as if he hadn’t been watching you the whole time. “Yeah,” he nodded, a little too fast, trying (and failing) to act casual. 

A small smile tugged at your lips as you noticed his gaze lingering—not on the cat, but on you. More specifically, on the colorful hair clips securing small sections of your hair. 

“Do you like them?” you asked, amusement dancing in your voice. 

Spencer blinked, caught off guard. “What?” 

“My hair clips,” you clarified, tilting your head slightly. “You keep staring at them.” 

A faint pink dusted his cheeks. “Oh. Yeah—yeah, I do,” he admitted, a small, sheepish smile forming when he realized he’d been caught. 

Your smile widened. “You can borrow them if you want.” 

That made him huff out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t think I could pull them off.” 

You playfully squinted at him, pretending to assess. “I don’t know, Reid. I think you could totally rock the look.” 

His lips quirked at the teasing tone in your voice, but before he could respond, he blurted out, “I like your outfit.” 

It came out too quickly, like his brain had tried to filter it, but failed at the last second. His eyes shut briefly, as if he was mentally kicking himself for how awkwardly it had slipped out. 

Your heart skipped slightly at the unexpected compliment. “Yeah?” you prompted, tilting your head. 

He nodded, gaze flickering to yours before quickly shifting to the shelf again. “It’s... really different from how you usually dress at work. But it suits you.” 

“Thanks, Spencer.” You nudged his arm lightly, lowering your voice just enough to make him glance at you again. “I like your outfit, too.” 

His brows raised slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. “This?” He glanced down at his usual button-up and cardigan combination. 

You grinned. “Yeah. Classic Reid. Wouldn’t change a thing.” 

He exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. But you could tell, from the way his lips curled at the corners, that he liked hearing it. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then , you leaned a little closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, if you ever want to borrow the cardigan, I wouldn’t say no. I think you’d look... interesting in pastel dinosaurs.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and then he let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to my usual look, thanks.” 

“Suit yourself,” you said with a shrug, your grin widening. “But just know, the offer’s always open. You might surprise yourself.” 

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” he said quietly, his tone warm. “I like it.” 

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his voice, and you looked down at the ceramic cat again, pretending to examine it more closely. “Well, maybe I’ll have to surprise you more often.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away, but when you glanced up, he was smiling—a small, genuine smile that made your stomach do a little flip. “I’d like that,” he said simply. 

The moment lingered.

And then, as if on cue, Garcia’s voice cut through the room. 

“Reid! Stop hogging my guest and come help me with this cake!” 

Spencer blinked, startled out of the moment, and you laughed softly. “Duty calls,” you said, nudging him again. 

He hesitated, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he nodded. “Yeah. Duty.” 

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your fingers brushing against the ceramic cat one last time.

[chdarling]

Frequently Asked Questions

Hi friends, I've decided to turn my ask box off for a while. This is not in response to any specific ask or any drama, I just can't keep up right now, and I continually feel guilty receiving asks I don't have the energy to answer. I've decided that guilt is not so great for my mental health right now, so I'm taking a wee break and figured I'd post some answers to some of the questions I receive the most.

Snippets and Spoilers can be found here.

***

When will TLE3 be released?

I don't have an exact date, but it probably won't be in 2025. I am giving myself the space and time to write TLE3 at my own pace and pleasure, and I plan to have a full draft finished before I start publishing on AO3. I promise when it's ready, you'll be the first to know.

***

Can I print TLE?

Please do not print TLE using any commercial printing service, as this is not legal (at least in the US, which is where I am). If you are printing and binding it yourself solely for personal use and in a manner that is 100% in compliance with copyright law – aka no one at any point in the process can make any money off of it – then I personally am fine with it (and very honored!). However, I cannot give approval for anything that infringes copyright law in any way. Thank you for understanding! I don't want to be sued!

***

Can I translate/create a podfic/create fanart for TLE?

I would be so unbelievably honored! I give a blanket approval for translations, podfics, and fanart, and I'm so, so touched that you would take the time to do this. I just ask that you ONLY post to AO3* and to please mark it as a related work so it's linked to the original. I may be slow to approve the AO3 email linking the fics, but I promise I will! Thank you!!

*except fanart, obviously. Do whatever you want with that. Although if you post it on tumblr, I would LOVE to see it. <3

***

Are you on any other social media sites?

No. I am ONLY on Tumblr, AO3, and the TLE discord. I don’t even use social media in my personal life, so don't try to find me! I'm not there!

***

Do you have fanfic recommendations?

I’m sorry, but I am not a good resource for this. I haven't actually read much fanfic as I spend most of my limited free time writing it. However, I always recommend checking out @jilyawards for a fantastic collection of the incredible talent in this fandom over the years.

***

Do you take requests for one shots/other fics?

No, sorry. I have my hands more than full with TLE.

***

Do you take suggestions for the plot of TLE?

No, sorry. I have the story pretty tightly plotted from beginning until the (very) end, and while I occasionally swerve down new creative alleys, I’m very committed to sticking to my original plan.

***

Is [super specific spoilery thing] going to happen in TLE?

You are of course welcome to ask, but I am almost certainly going to shout “SPOILERS!” and run away cackling.

***

You say this is a canon fic but [super specific thing that I don’t agree with] is included. What gives?

For the purposes of TLE, ‘canon’ means the original seven books. Everything else is dressing. I do include as canon a lot of the lore JKR provided in interviews while the books were being published (for example, James being a Chaser), however I tend to view all post-book authorial additions as mostly optional. I do use a fair amount of Pottermore in my story, but I do not keep up with new HP material, so it’s impossible to stay up to date with everything. For example, I tweaked the Animagus process somewhat to my liking as opposed to what is described in Pottermore. This is partly because I already had my version sketched out before that was published, and mostly because I did not like what was given on Pottermore.

I do not consider any of the films canon. If this alleged HBO show happens, I will not consider that canon. Video game? Not canon. I also simply do not know what the words ‘Cursed Child’ mean, as I am pretty sure this is from an alternate timeline in which I do not exist. Tra la la. :)

All of this to say: The seven books are the framework. However, I feel pretty strongly that within that framework there is room for many, many interpretations – particularly with regards to the Marauders era, about which we know so little. Just because my headcanon or characterization is different from yours (or vice versa!) doesn’t make it less canon. Similarly, just because something is not explicitly described in the seven books, doesn’t mean it is against canon for it to have happened in the background, unnoticed by Harry, or before the timeline of the seven books starts. See: Wolfstar.

***

Wait, there’s wolfstar in TLE?

Yes. There will be wolfstar in the series. I did tag it from day one, please stop sending me shocked and horrified messages! (lol) Because people have such strong feelings about this ship, I always feel the need to give my little disclaimer: There will be wolfstar. Personally, I love it and am excited to write it. However, if you are a fan of exclusively fluffy, happy wolfstar, you might be disappointed. If you are interested in exploring the fraught, occasionally toxic relationship between two angsty, repressed, and deeply traumatized young men during an escalating war…strap in, gird your loins, etc. We're gonna have some fun.

***

Why do you have two blogs?

Because I'm dumb. Because I didn’t know how tumblr worked when I started this whole nonsense and thought that a side blog sounded like a good idea…aaaaand then pretty much immediately regretted it. This was back before you could reply from a sideblog, so everything was a mess. I'm an archivist at heart, so I can't bring myself to delete @chdarling-tle but I almost exclusively use @chdarling these days. Feel free to only follow that one, unless you only want chapter updates and none of my silly reblogs, in which case @chdarling-tle is here for you. Otherwise it's pretty dead over there.

(ok, confession: this actually isn't a frequently asked question at all, but I shoved it in here anyway because the two blog thing annoys the shit out of me and I wanted to give some context for my disorganization. I meant well, once upon a time!!!)

***

Do you have a Patreon?

I’m amazed and flattered that I’ve been asked this enough to include it in an FAQ, but no, I do not. While I am so appreciative that people want to support this project, TLE is a work of fanfiction, created entirely out of and for love, and is in no way a commercial endeavor. I do not make a penny off of this project. I almost certainly lose pennies to this project. But that's okay! Because of the aforementioned love! And, once again, my deep and enduring desire to not be sued!

(One day I do hope to share some original writing, and if you feel so compelled, you may absolutely pay me for that, but I'm not quite there yet. 😉)

***

Ok but seriously when will TLE3 be released?

(sorry I couldn't resist)

***

Ok that's all I can think of right now. Thank you so much as always for your enthusiasm and support. My closed ask box is in no way a commentary on my appreciation for this community, I'm just very, very tired.

lots of love, CH

[hbyrde36]

One Bat Short of a Belfry

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Pop Up event, celebrating our beloved Stranger Things Fanartists!

@devondespresso Dev, I loved this piece from the first time I saw it! It's adorable, and since you enjoyed my silly tags screaming about it, here's a little play on that idea 💜

Steddie | R: G | WC: 1009 | AO3

It was times like these that Steve had to remind himself that they were lucky.

Lucky Eddie had gotten out of the Upside Down alive.

…Mostly alive.

Lucky they were able to be here together at all. 

Okay, maybe he was being a little dramatic. It wasn’t that serious, and it’s not like those things were ever far from his thoughts anyhow. Steve thanked whatever deity controlled the universe every single day for the fact that he and Eddie had gotten their second chance, their happy ending. 

But, it was hard to feel lucky when that little fucker was intent on getting on his last nerve.

“Eddie, quit it,” Steve muttered for the fourth time since he’d started filling out the application for their—hopefully—new apartment.

Eddie had been restless for days, stuck in his human form practically 24/7 while they began to pack, and made all the other boring and tedious preparations needed when you’re about to move. Steve’s precious blood-sucking boyfriend just wanted to stretch his wings for a while, he could understand that! And yes, they were a bit more co-dependent than your average couple, but did Eddie have to dig his little claws into Steve’s back while he indulged in his other nature?

Eddie squawked indignantly, annoyed at being ignored for so long. He climbed up Steve’s back, small talons leaving pin-sized holes in Steve’s favorite polo, no doubt, and peered over his shoulder at the small stack of paperwork, tiny nose wrinkling in his periphery.  

They hadn’t exactly worked out a code or anything for communicating when Eddie was in this state, but at this point Steve knew him well enough that he could guess what Eddie was trying to say based on his tone and unusually animated expressions.

Unusual for bats, anyway, very usual for Eddie.

“I know, okay? But this is important,” Steve said, tapping his pen on the page in front of him, squinting at the next row of questions. Fuck, he’d have to submit a bank statement, or get together at least six months of paystubs.

Okay, no problem. He could do that.

Eddie’s long tongue darted out, licking at the delicate and very ticklish skin of Steve's throat.

Steve giggled involuntarily, shoulders shrugging on instinct against the touch, which only served to put his cheek within nuzzling distance, a fact his very affectionate boyfriend took full advantage of.

“Oh I see, trying to sweet talk me into playing, huh?”

Eddie let out a pleased chirp, continuing to press his cool nose into Steve’s skin.

“Just let me finish this first, and we can—”

A high-pitched shrieking screech cut him off, followed by a half-dozen loud clicks.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I’m almost done.”

Eddie swung his head in a circle, his version of rolling his eyes, and skittered back around and down to wedge himself between Steve’s poor back and the chair, resuming his high-kick routine.

The Rockettes would have been proud.

Steve did his best to go back to ignoring it, and he really was almost done save for a few places where he needed Eddie’s co-signature, when a sharp searing pain stabbed at four distinct spots on his lower back.

“Ouch!” He shouted, sucking air through his teeth as he shot up from the chair. “Jesus Christ, Eddie! I think you drew blood that time, and not in the fun way.”

When he whirled to scowl down at Eddie’s small form, he was slumped in the middle of the chair, bottom lip jutted out and huge round eyes shining like black diamonds. 

“Oh, no you don’t.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, feeling a warm trickle running down his back, dangerously close to his ass crack. “Don’t give me that look.”

Those fucking eyes were lethal weapons no matter which form Eddie wielded them in. Steve was convinced it was some kind of dark magic.

“I’m sorry—okay? But Mrs. Johnson almost saw you last month—again—and you know how she is. She would have called the landlord in a heartbeat. Hell, she probably would have called 911! Animal control!”

Eddie released a screeching cry loud enough to make Steve’s ears ring, and turned away to face the other side of the room.

Thank god they were already working on moving, there was no way someone hadn’t heard that. Steve almost said as much, but he realized suddenly that this wasn’t just Eddie begging for his attention anymore, this was Eddie acting out when he thought he’d done something wrong, that something was his fault. And here Steve was, yelling at him, probably making him feel ten times worse.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” 

Eddie slumped further down onto the seat cushion, until he was back-down-belly-up like a starfish, letting out the softest, most pitiful little squeaks.

Steve stepped closer, kneeling down to Eddie’s eye level. “Y’know, I never liked this place anyway. Stuffy in the summer, drafty in the winter. The new apartment has twice the windows, and a brand new central air system.”

Eddie rolled over, dragging himself wing-over-wing to the edge of the chair until they were nose to nose, a single chirp lilted up at the end crossing his petite mouth.

Steve smiled, huffing a laugh. “Yes, really. And they allow exotic pets, I checked. So, no more having to worry about getting caught.”

Trilling sweetly, Eddie loosed his tongue again, running it softly across Steve’s lips.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled, and I should have known you were having feelings about all this. But trust me when I say I don’t mind. I’d do anything to keep you safe and happy.”

Steve scooped Eddie up, cradling him in his hands as he stood. “Now, what do you think about driving over to Hopper’s cabin so you can fly through the trees for a while?”

Eddie flicked his ears back and forth, practically purring with happiness, and nudged the top of his head against Steve’s thumb three times. 

“I love you too, baby.”

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @sidekick-hero @firefly-party @bookworm0690

@wonderland-girl143-blog  @goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

@hitlikehammers

Thanks to @pearynice for the quick beta!! 😘

digital doodle from like a week ago as a break from an irl painting, bat eddie my beloved 🥰

<< original/reference below the cut >>

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 3

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Shitty family, amazing found family, new friends, supportive friends, Nick Fuckiiiiiiiiiiiin Cage, wedding fluff. Summary: It's time to get married! And that reality is so much sweeter than you ever could have anticipated. Notes: I just...really really love weddings, guys. You all know that by now 🧡🧡 This week, please enjoy a gorgeous view of the Breakers from the ocean!

Friday, April 4, 2025 T-Minus One Hour Until the Wedding

Javi had helped you tote everything back inside Hazelwood House. It's unbelievable that you're actually allowed to be sitting in the room reserved for brides preparing for their special days. It's just one of the house's guest bedrooms but it is outfitted with plenty of non-historical seating and a large vanity for sitting at to do hair and makeup.

Moira had rushed home to change into her favorite purple off-the-shoulder dress and sparkling ballet flats and now the two of you are doing your hair and makeup at that vanity that normally you only see pictures of on the museum's social media accounts afterward.

“Knock, knock.” There’s a polite tap at the door and then two women with huge rolling bags come in. “Hi! I’m Tracy and this is Tandy. We are hair and make-up, so we thought we could come give you a hand? If you want?”

"Oh!" You almost jump even at the gentle intrusion. "Oh my god, really? I—" You glance at Moira but she's already glowing. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. That would be incredible

They both squeal in excitement and come wheeling into the room, careful to close the door behind them. “I looooove soulmate weddings!” Tandy gushes, an exact copy of her twin sister except she has a star tattoo behind her right ear that is visible with her hair put up.

"And this one is going to be gorgeous." Moira declares, practically giggling as she shifts away from the mirror to let you sit directly in front of the vanity.

You are sitting in a dressing gown, which is perfect. Tandy smiles as she stops behind you and examines your hair. “Do you have any ideas for your hair?” She asks.

"Um...Javi picked out a hairpiece," you tell her, severely downplaying the fact that your soulmate chose a literal tiara for you to wear. Instead, you simply take out the box that Cindy had packed it in and open the lid to show the other women.

“Oh my Godddddddddd!” The screeches from all the women are ones of pure joy. Every woman loves a tiara, even if they didn’t want to wear one. And this one is gorgeous.

"The whole look together is fairly spectacular," you admit, your warm cheeks and sheepish expression making you look all the more excited – because you are.

“So obviously, the tiara is the star of the show?” If the headpiece is this beautiful, the dress must be breathtaking. “What about a sleek style that weaves the tiara into your hair?”

"I defer to your expertise," you tell Tandy honestly. Normally you don't do too much to your hair besides take care of it and put it into the same simple style every day. "I just want to look like myself when all is said and done. I guess...today really is the best version of myself I could hope for."

“Natural.” Tracy smile as she moves over to Moira. “I believe in just enhancing your beautiful features with make up.” She promises before she looks at your maid of honor. “May I work on you, gorgeous? You have such beautiful eyes.”

“I guess the look we’re going for is natural.” Moira grins at you and looks back at Tracy. “I do…have a favorite lipstick, though.”

“Oh yeah.” You light up and start nodding. “Clinique Pink Honey. Makes her look like a movie star.” At that, you and your best friend both laugh. “I mean…I guess she’ll just fit in perfectly with the crowd that way.”

“Don’t be too intimidated.” Tandy tells you. “All of them are just as normal as you and me. They just have higher profile jobs.”

"I don't think it's a matter of being intimidated." Which is not what you expected to feel, all things considered. You would have expected that you would feel that way. Maybe it just hasn't really hit you yet. "I'm mostly just surprised."

“It has to be a shock.” Tracy agrees as she starts to pull palettes of colors out of her unzipped bag. Trays and trays of makeup, all nearly organized. “Just suddenly discovering your soulmate by chance.”

"It's a beautiful surprise, but it was definitely a surprise." You and Moria sit up straight in your chairs to let the twins artists set to work. "It's not like I've been checking Mate Marks for matches or anything, ya know? It just...happened."

“Do you know why he wasn’t on Mate Marks?” She asks curiously, pondering over that. She’s never assumed a screenwriter would need anonymity.

"Some people aren't." You shrug slightly, realizing you never even thought to ask. "Some people want to find their soulmate naturally. Out in the wild, if you will."

“Either way, you have found each other and now you are getting married.” She hums. “And it will be beautiful.”

"He's beautiful." A fact which has you practically giggling. "It's been such a whirlwind."

“He is very attractive.” Tandy admits with a smile. “His accent.”

"Is to die for." Another round of giggles ripple through you, and you stand by your opinion wholeheartedly. "I will very happily listen to anything he has to say."

“And he’s so clever.” She adds. “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is one of my favorite movies. It the reason I wanted to work on this movie so badly.”

“That was one of his?” Moira’s eyes widen.

“Yep.” The pride on your face is unmistakable. The universe gave you a soulmate you can be truly proud of and you don’t mind having those bragging rights at all. “That was his first movie.”

“What a way to break into Hollywood, huh?” Tandy snorts. “That movie was like number one at the box office for months.”

"It was incredible." Tracy agrees with an air of absolutism. "His characters are gorgeously complex."

“So this is going to be incredible.” Moira hum. “You are marrying a genius.”

"I love that way of thinking about it," you agree with the broadest grin.

Everyone continues to work and giggle, passing snippets of information. The twins efficient and chatty at the same time.

“What do you think of this?” Tracy asks Moira. “Or do you want a little more dramatic touch? Even though it looks dark in person, a heavily coat photographs better.”

"My best friend's wedding?" Moira glances over at you and you grin at her in the mirror. "I think it calls for a touch of drama, don't you?"

“Definitely.” Tandy hums in agreement. “You won’t look like some old matriarch who’s still got her foundation on from 1920, but you’ll look amazing.”

The laughter that comment earns is loud and genuine, so much so that you almost don't hear your phone ringing in the pocket of your robe. When the most important people in your life are all already in this building, you frown slightly – but it's your father's cell phone that pops up on your caller ID. Moira's jaw drops open, but you shake your head at her concern. "I called him from the boutique before we came back, and left him a voicemail. I figured they should at least know."

After all, they're still your family. Which is why you pick up now instead of sending the call to voicemail like you might have otherwise. "Hi Dad."

“Surprised to get your message.” He doesn’t greet you, ask you how you are. It’s just not the way your father does things. Straight to the point and often unavailable, that’s him. “You need money?”

"No, Dad, I don't need money." You roll your eyes at Moira and smother a sigh. "And I'm well, thank you. I only wanted to let you and Mom know that I'm getting married tonight."

"Married?" His voice is shocked, astounded actually, and he clears his throat. "This is a prank, right?" He huffs. "Like that time you said you were going to go to art school?"

Controlling your breathing is a feat of fucking strength right now, but you aren’t going to spoil the night with another argument about how you had to withdraw your acceptance at Parsons because your mother refused to release the small amount of money they had allotted for your education if you threw it away, in her words. “This is not a prank,” you inform your father coolly. “I met my soulmate and we’re getting married. I just thought it was appropriate to let you know.”

He sputters for a moment. "Soulmate? Who is this soulmate?" He sighs and you can imagine that he is rubbing his eyes right now in that condescending manner to was meant to convey frustration and disappointment at whoever he is dealing with. "Please don't tell me that you just met this man?"

“I met him two years ago.” Technically true. “And I didn’t call to ask for permission. Or to ask for anything at all. This is merely information.” Fucking hell, you can’t wait to change your name.

"You planned a wedding without inviting us." He huffs sounding hurt for a moment and then there's the shuffling the phone and he murmurs something that you can't make out. Having a conversation with someone in the background that takes precedence over your call. The shuffling stops and he comes back on the line. "Well, you let us know. We'll send a card." With that, he hangs up the phone.

“And that is why I wouldn’t have told you anyway.” You huff at the phone, tossing it onto the vanity in a flourish of annoyance. “Well, I told them. That’s all they’re entitled to anyway.”

Moira sighs, very familiar with the disappointment that flashes in your eyes and is quickly suppressed. After all the hurt, all the chances you’ve given them, you try to pretend you don’t want the Hallmark happy family you watch on tv. “Some people don’t deserve to be parents.” She reminds you. “You have me and your other friends.” She waves her hand dismissively to make you laugh because she always tells you that she’s the only friend you really need. “And now you have him. Your soulmate.”

“Well…” Sitting back and letting your eyes shut temporarily, you reach over and give Moira’s hand a squeeze. “At least my kids will never have to quiet about being treated equally. No Golden Children in my house. No favorites. Ever.”

“None.” She promises and gives a little laugh. “Black sheep, all of them.”

“Loved no matter who they are.” You insist. That’s the key.

“Babe, you were born to be the best mother.” She agrees. “You will love every quirk and passion they have.”

“Yes. Yes I absolutely will.” There are so many wrongs of your own childhood that you will right with your own children, but the first step to getting there is getting married tonight.

“Now, forget about them.” She could possibly be talking about a bug or some gum on her shoe rather than your parents. She knows if she ever had the misfortune of meeting Cruella de Vil and her husband, she will be giving them the ass chewing of a lifetime.

"You're right." There is no reason to ruin your special night thinking about your awful family, and you're not going to let it happen. "You're absolutely right. Now." You relax back in your seat as Tracy and Tandy switch places. Your tiara is secured into place and it's starting to feel real all over again. "Moira, my love. As maid of honor I think it's wedding law that you have to take somebody home tonight.

“Yes please.” She immediately agrees with a wicked grin. “I’ll take both Jason Grant and Alex Powell home.”

"Somehow I think Alex Powell needs to be the center of attention at all times," you hum, smirking slightly. "Not that I dislike him. He's actually been really nice. But you've had that crush on Jason Grant for ages now."

“He’s hotttttt.” She huffs, slightly embarrassed about it but she can’t help but preen. “Did you see that ass? You could bounce a quarter off it.”

"I'm not saying you're wrong." Laughing right along with Tracy and Tandy, all four of you end up in a giggle fit. "I'm just saying...he's here now. You could actually talk to him. Get to know him. Even make a move?"

“Like he would want me.” She snorts, giving you a horrified look. “And I’m not lucky enough that my soulmate is a hot actor.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna get some fucking CPA.”

"Six hours ago, if you had told me Javi was my soulmate, I would have laughed at you." In fact, you're pretty sure she might have suggested it once and you did laugh. "You never know. That's all I'm saying."

Rolling her eyes, she blows a raspberry. “Now you’re all ‘the sky is blue and the birds are singing.’ She teases. “It must be love.”

"Maybe." The grin on your face grows quickly into something wide and unapologetic. "Maybe it is."

****** Nerves has Javi nearly jittery at the flower covered arched trellis that leads to the informal gardens. That is where your boss said that you had always gotten dreamy eyed when you saw wedding set ups so that’s where she had decided to set up.

“You doin’ okay, Jav?” Nick chuckled under his breath, already knowing the answer as he waits beside his friend in front of the small group of assembled guests.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming.” Javi turns towards Nick with a plea in his eyes. “We aren’t drunk in my pool, plotting and laughing. I’m here. I’m in this moment and I’m marrying my soulmate.”

Nick laughs the way only Nick can, because it is full of boundless affection for his tenderhearted friend. "No, buddy." He assured Javi, shaking his head. "You're not dreaming. This is your fairy tale."

He shivers, his face alight with pure joy and his eyes sparkle. “Do I look okay?” He asks, knowing he looks good, but wanting the reassurance. “Thank you for remembering a belt. It matches the shoes too.” He adds, looking down at his loafers proudly.

“You look fantastic.” Nick assures him. One comforting hand on his shoulder squeezes tightly and Nick’s eyes wander momentarily to where Olivia is sitting with Addy in the front row usually reserved for family. Because they are Javi’s family. Javi is the closest thing to a brother Nick has ever had and he understands the sheer joy of finding your soulmate. Of course he wants that for his brother.

“Have I showed you the ring?” He has, but he’s already pulling it out of his pocket again. Partly to reassure himself that it hasn’t disappeared in the forty-five seconds since he had tapped the pocket to make sure that it’s there.

“It’s beautiful, Jav.” Nick knows he’s proud, and is about to nudge him a little about starting work back up on the house when the music starts.

“Oh god, it’s time.” Javi is shaking as he shoves the ring box back in his jacket and straightens his shoulders. Immediately hearing the commanding voice of his father as he scolds him to stop slouching and look proud. He is a Gutierrez.

You can tell that Moira picked out the music as soon as you step out of the house. I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You pours through the speakers hidden throughout the garden, and your best friend grins at you as she takes her place ahead of you to walk down the aisle.

Of course Nick starts to hum along with the song. One of his earlier movies was playing Elvis and he’s been obsessed ever since. Like Javi had been obsessed with Nick. Javi swallows and shuffles as he sees your friend, itching to get a view of his bride.

With a nod from you, Jason slides into place beside Moira to escort her down the aisle after passing off two beautiful bouquets of fresh and vibrant Gerbera daisies. For Moira the bouquet is petite and playful, for you it is big and bold and beautiful. They're so momentarily distracting that you almost miss the soft, affectionate expression on Alex's face as he steps up next to you.

“You make a beautiful bride.” He has intuition about people, reading them easily. He knows that you and he will be good friends. He’s a serial flirt, a little bit of a playboy, but he’s also a very loyal friend. His suit is immaculate and he offers you his arm proudly. “May I have the honor of escorting you to your soulmate?” He asks seriously, even as he smiles that blinding white toothed smile that melts hearts and panties.

“As a matter of fact?” You take his proffered arm with ease. “I insist upon it.”

“You insist.” He peps up even more at that and rolls his shoulders back to straighten up taller. His hand covers yours protectively. “He’s waiting impatiently, so let’s not keep him waiting longer than he has to.”

Moira and Jason make their way down the aisle and the actor deposits her opposite Javi and melts into the crowd of secondary cast and production crew that have all obviously changed into whatever nice they had on hand and are all sitting happily as if they have known you forever.

The music changes as you and Alex step up to the end of the path that will take you up to Javi. It's surreal in a way you'll never quite be able to describe. From Elvis to Etta James, the music now proclaims that you have found each other as you make your way toward your soulmate under the watchful, joyful eyes of assembled friends. Some are old, some are new, but all of them are watching as Alex brings you up to Javi at the end of the aisle and sets your hands into your soulmate's.

“Hi.” He gushes, eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears as his smile lights up his entire being. “You look…una diosa, mi diosa.” He murmurs, tongue tied for a moment. “My goddess.”

"Hi." If you were breathless with excitement before, it is doubled now. "How did you get even more handsome since I left you an hour ago?"

“I changed.” He jokes, making Nick chuckle beside him.

One simple moment of laughter eases some of the nerves that have been holding you tight in your grasp, and you squeeze Javi's hands in yours as Tamara gently clears her throat to get everyone's attention.

“We are gathered here tonight to unite these soulmates in a blessed union.” She smiles as she addresses the crowd.

Tamara’s speech is short and witty, as charming and silly as she is with a reverence for the romance of the moment. If you manage to remember to ask her for a copy of it later — if she even has it written down — you’ll add it to a photo album of beautiful snapshots of tonight.

Javi is practically shaking in excitement and turns towards you as he holds both of your hands. “Ready?” He asks.

“Ready.” And if you make it through your vows without crying, it will be a miracle.

“You are beautiful.” He whispers with a shy smile before he has to look back at Tamara again and nod for her to proceed. “We are ready.”

“For these two soulmates.” Tamara beams, smiling at you and Javi and then out at the crowd. “Love swept in like a fairy tale. A fairy tale that began right here at Hazelwood House with their first meeting and will continue for many endless years to come. As bold and unique as they place they first met, these two soulmates have the potential for an adventurous and boundless life of joy ahead.” There is no questioning, in her mind, how absolutely true that is, and she smiles again. “It doesn’t take more than a few minutes in their presence to know that this is the kind of love that makes the rest of us believe in the true power of soulmates.”

Javi shivers at her eloquent words. He hopes beyond hope that this is that kind of love. Nick reaches out and clasps a hand on his shoulder in steady support. Smiling into your eyes, he feels like he is staring into your soul. His soul.

"Javier." Tamara smiles encouragingly. "We'll have you start the vows."

Javi takes a deep breath, making you smile and giggle slightly. It’s not a heavy sound, it’s nervous. Murmuring your name is accompanied by stroking the back of your hand with his thumbs. “From the moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. To your beauty, your kindness. That sweet smile.” He tells you. “I had to talk myself out of coming back every day for a week so you did not think I was a creep.”

That draws a sweet laugh from the crowd and another giggle from you, but you squeeze his hands back affectionately. "I looked for you," you admit, not minding interrupting him to say so. "Every single day."

“You did?” He perks up even more, happy that you seem just as enchanted with him as he is with you. “That’s good. And I thought of you. At random times, I could not get you out of my mind.”

"Neither could I." A fact which makes tonight so much sweeter. But you'll have your turn to make your vows to him in a moment. This is Javi's time.

“Every time I saw you after that, I became more ravenous for time with you. Hating to leave your side and now, I do not have to.”

An audible aww! comes from the crowd, and you break out into another wide grin when you recognize Tandy's voice. The twins, it seems, are just as involved in this love story as the rest of the cast and crew became today.

Javi glances at the crowd and then right back to you. “I want to be a good soulmate. A good husband.” He vows. “To make you feel special and appreciated every day.”

Tamara nods for you to go next, clearly smothering a watery smile at her microphone.

"Javi, I..." You have to remember to breathe so that you don't cry, but your eyes are watering with happiness before you even begin. "I still feel like I'm dreaming," you admit, and laugh softly when a ripple of coos and chuckles wash through your assembled friends. You're so glad that you talked through what you wanted to say to him with Moira before coming down from your dressing room. "I feel like I must have dreamt you up in a bedtime story that I told myself years ago and brought you to life through wishing. I can't wait to learn with you, and grow with you, and build our future together."

Javi can’t help himself. Lunging forward, he presses his lips quickly to yours before he is pulling away with an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry.”

A ripple of affectionate laughter rolls through the crowd and Tamara’s smile grows wider and softer in response. “Let’s get those rings,” she says, looking to his best man and your maid of honor.

“Rings…..rings.” There’s a moment of pure panic on Javi’s face as he blanks out for a split second on where he put them. Nick steps forward quickly before he can freak out. “Jacket pocket, buddy.” He whispers in Javi’s ear and steps back just as quickly.

Moira has Javi’s wedding band for safe keeping, and she passes it to you along with a lovingly weepy hug. Your best friend has always been a softie, after all.

“Here it is.” Javi pulls out your ring with a flourish. Smiling happily as he stares at it for a moment.

"We exchange rings," Tamara goes on, starting to get a bit choked up. "As a symbol of everlasting love. Once it exists, it never ends, and to have a physical reminder of that love each day can be as soothing for the soul as anything else in the world."

Oh yeah, she is absolutely about to cry, you think but you really can't blame her. You're there yourself.

"Javi, repeat after me as you present your soulmate with her ring." It's so very simple but so beautifully felt. "I present you with this token of my love and devotion. A symbol of our partnership for life." And then, of course, the traditional icing on the cake. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Javi holds your left hand as if it were made of glass and has the ring ready to slip onto your finger. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” He says clearly. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Even though you just bought the beautiful platinum band three hours ago, it still feels like magic when it slips onto your finger perfectly. It doesn’t feel real. Like anything this perfect has to be a dream.

Your fingers grip his tightly for a moment and you blow out a shaky breath before repeating the vow under Tamara’s direction. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” The beautiful band you hold at his finger slides on so easily. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“It fits.” He huffs out happily, like he didn’t just try it on hours ago. He had already shifted his pinky ring to his right hand, wanting his wedding ring to be the only ring on this hand. “I will never take it with the intention of putting our vows aside.” He vows seriously. He will have to remove it at times, but it would never be removed for any nefarious reasons, that he can promise.

“I can promise you the same.” There are a hell of a lot of people in this world who couldn’t — or wouldn’t — say the same and you won’t be one of them. Not when it feels like you’ve been searching for him your entire life.

“Do you take each other,” Tamara definitely sniffles this time. She can’t help it. “To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for the rest of your lives to come?”

“I do.” Javi’s words are clear, direct. Meant with every fiber of his being. He nods and smiles. “I do.”

“I do.” Your heart pounds with it and sings its tune.

“Then,” Tamara beams, sounding almost as excited as you and Javi. “By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“It’s allowed this time.” Nick chuckles and that makes Javi start to laugh, pulling you close and dipping you down as he presses his lips to yours like it’s the most romantic of romance movies.

The whirlwind moments that follow – running up the aisle together and back into the house, wrapping your arms around each other in the Great Hall after you've practically scampered through the open doors that let the warm, evening air into the house. There is a table waiting nearby with the paperwork to make your marriage official nearby, and the cameraman that is filming the wedding has followed at a respectful distance to capture the utter joy that is you and Javi kissing each other silly as you wait for your witnesses to join you inside.

“We are married!” He can’t believe it, even as he signs his name. “My middle name is Mateo.” He realizes that he’s never told you that. There’s so much for the two of you to learn about each other. He signs his complete name to the form and smiles up at you.

You tell him your middle name, too. The small things stack up on top of each other as you begin this crazy journey together. Including the second form that Tamara hands you, because Moira told her to make sure there was a copy. It is the form to file for changing your name now that you are married, and you nearly bite your lip as you start to fill it out. "I've...always figured I would take my husband's name," you tell him nervously. Wondering why the hell you're nervous. "Is that okay with you?"

Javi nods eagerly. “Perfect.” He agrees, knowing that the rest of his family legacy might be shameful, but this family he is starting with you will not be. “I— I would love for you to have my last name. Our family name.”

"Our family." You like the sound of that very, very much. It's so much better thinking of the family you'll make together than the one that has never even tried to understand you.

“Our family.” Both of you seem to melt at the idea. Unable to stop simpering as you close the gap between you and kiss again. Aware that you are being a little dramatic, Javi doesn’t even care.

Your friends let you indulge – it's your wedding day after all – but in these first few moments of wedding bliss, you barely have any concept of who is in the room with you. Moira is there, chatting with Tamara, and Javi's best man is interjecting in the conversation as well. It's all a whirl of joy that swirls around you until you finally tune into the conversation a few feet away.

"Um...sweetheart?" You pull back with confusion on your face, looking at Javi with furrowed eyebrows. "Is your best man Nick Fucking Cage?"

Javi looks at you in an equally confused fashion. “Um….yes?” He answers, tilting his head as he hears Nick laugh and starts to smile, looking back at him and then towards you. “You didn’t notice him before now? I called him with you in the car. He brought me my suit.” He reminds you.

"You called your best friend Nick in the car and...you told me separately about having Nick Cage come to your birthday party." Now you're laughing as you see that it should have been obvious. "I just...I didn't put the pieces together! And I was not paying attention to anyone but you just now."

“I see.” He chuckles with you and leans into kiss you. Turning, he guides you over to where Nick is talking with an obviously star-struck Moira. “Nick.” He hums happily. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my wife.” He grins, remembering how shocked Nick had been when he had facilitated his reunion with his own soulmate a few years ago. “Sweetheart, Nick Cage.”

"Hi Nick." In this moment you barely know what to do besides shake his hand, but this is your brand new husband's best friend, so when you end up hugging him it shouldn't really be a surprise.

“Nice to meet you.” Nick replies with a smooth smile and a sparkle to his eyes when he draws back and his own soulmate joins him at his side. “Honest to god, I’m glad to meet you.”

"Considering the circumstances?" You glance over at Javi and beam. "I'm very glad to be met." A shared laugh ripples through the group. "And obviously I'm very glad to meet both of you, too."

“Olivia.” Nick’s wife offers, reaching up and brushing his lapel lovingly. “It was a beautiful ceremony and it reminded me of our own wedding vows.”

"i am really looking forward to getting to know both of you." If you had been told yesterday that this conversation would be happening ever in your life, you would have called bullshit. But here you are, and you're beckoning Moira over to your side in the process. "Moira Whitney. My best friend in the entire world and an absolute angel of a human."

“Hi again.” Moira smiles, almost shyly but she’s still a little awestruck that she had a conversation with Nick Cage about your wedding.

"Why don't we go grab a drink?" Olivia suggests, knowing things like photos have to happen and the other guests will be filing up onto the terrace for cocktail hour.

“Absolutely.” She beams at how nice she is and nods before she looks at you. “Love birds? Would you like a drink?”

"Don't you worry about that." Scott appears with the camera man and your official wedding photographer, as well as Leslie. Your boss a tray of crystal-clear blue and bubbling glasses ready to go. "The caterers had a suggestion for a signature cocktail and I thought you'd like it," she confesses. "They're usually called Tiffany Mimosas, but for tonight, they're called The Something Blue."

Javi can see that you are absolutely over the moon at the idea. Melting and cooing at the light blue drinks. "Something blue?" He asks, tilting his head. "Right. The things a bride needs."

"She's also a sucker for anything Tiffany-themed." Moira tells him with a sly grin. "We threw her a Tiffany tea party for her birthday last year. Not like anything there was Tiffany at all, but we watched Breakfast at Tiffany's and had blue everything and everybody dressed up."

"Tiffany's." He nods seriously, making a note of the famous jeweler.

"Javi, that isn't necessary." You insist, knowing your best friend has just given him a lifetime of ideas. "Let's go and take photos, shall we?"

"Photos." Temporarily distracted, he pulls you close and hums as he presses his lips to yours. "You look so beautiful, you must have all the photos taken of you. To remember tonight. This moment."

"Where would you like to take them?" Leslie asks. An indulgent smile lights up her face that only grows wider when you light up. "Anywhere in the house. I know you both must have favorite rooms."

“The green marble room.” Javi immediately answers. “Where we met.”

"The billiard room. Absolutely." It's a perfect choice, of course, and a romantic one to boot.

"And the library?" Leslie asks, grinning. She knows it's your other favorite part of the house.

"And the cliffs?" Javi turns towards you to see what you think. "Unless you don't want to risk your dress?"

"Why not the bench?" You suggest, remembering that second day you met him with such affection. "We can take some photos out at the bench with the cliffs and the ocean in the background."

"Yes." He lights up. "I would love that." He smiles. "I wanted to ask you to dinner that day. At the bench."

"What stopped you?" The whole group of you start to move over to the billiard room together, and you hold Javi's hand with intertwined fingers as you go.

"I lost my nerve." He admits sheepishly, blushing slightly. "I did not think that you would accept."

It doesn't bear pointing out that you absolutely would have accepted, or that you might have known you were soulmates much sooner if he had gone out onto that limb. There is no use dwelling on what might have been when what lies ahead of you is so bright. "Well," you hum, tapping your sparkling champagne glass against his. "We will have a lifetime of dinners ahead of us."

“Yes.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his champagne. “Dinners and breakfasts. Movie nights. Even premiers.”

"It's all very Disney to me," you admit, and smile when he gives you a slightly confused look. "It's a whole new world."

“Ariel? No, no that is Jasmine.” He corrects himself quickly. “Aladdin.” It has been a long time since he’s seen the movie, but he’s proud of being able to recall it. “You like Disney?”

“Love it.” You’re practically floating at his side as you walk, just talking and holding his hand as you go. “I grew up on Disney and it always just stuck with me.”

“Then why don’t we go tomorrow?” He asks, smiling softly. “Spend our honeymoon at Disneyland? I have never been to one.”

“You wouldn’t think that was silly?” It sounds sweet and fun to you, but you wouldn’t do just about anything with him and it would seem perfect right now.

“No, I don’t think that there is anything I could do with you that would seem silly.” He admits with a small smile.

“Maybe we’ll collect ideas all through the night and decide tomorrow?” You feel positively light about the whole thing, not worrying about the logistics of anything for this night. Just wanting to bask in the glow of being a newlywed. At being with your soulmate.

“Perfect” Javi glows under the knowledge that you just want to be with him. That anything and everything is on the table. “Pictures, sí? For our children? When they ask how we met and married?”

"We will have more pictures than they can stand," you predict. Happily setting your glass down so that the photographer can shuttle you into whatever pose he sees fit.

******

Craft services pulled out every trick up their sleeves. Javi can’t believe all the finger foods and little bites they managed to prepare. And someone had managed to go out and get cases of champagne. He presses another glass into your hand as you are animatedly chatting to Olivia and Nick, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your pulse. “Wife.” He murmurs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume.

Married is your favourite word right now, and it's no surprise to you that Javi's seems to be wife. "Thank you. husband," you beam at him. Your cheeks are aching from smiling so much tonight. "Olivia and Nick were just inviting us to dinner next week. Dinner and a movie?" Apparently it is a Cage family tradition to do once during the week, and Javi was usually included in that, too. It seemed to make sense that you should start to join them as well.

“Would you mind?” He asks, looking ecstatic that you are considering it. “Nick’s library has grown tremendously over the years and now he will even watch his own movies with us and give us the behind the scenes commentary. Those nights are especially fun.”

"I would love to." If it were nothing more than an invitation from some nice, new friends, you would already be excited to accept. But that these are Javi's best friends? It turns the whole thing around and makes it probably the most important invitation you'll get all night. "But I insist on helping with dinner somehow. It's the least I can do."

“Oh, we normally order in.” Olivia tells you with a grin. “But if you want to help me come up with some themed menus for movies, that could be a lot of fun.”

“Absolutely.” Your eyes light up in delight all over again. These are definitely your kind of people. “I love a themed dinner.”

“Oh shit.” Nick huffs, although there’s an indulgent smile on his face. She has been hinting about wanting to do this for some time and she’s found a partner in crime.

"Your soulmate and I are turning out to have lots in common, Javi." Olivia tells him, enjoying Nick's near-exasperation that she has finally found someone to indulge in these ideas with.

"Oh...hardly." You shake your head and wave off that idea. "You have had an entire career with fashion, Olivia. I have a passing interest."

“Well, passing interest is still interest.” She hums. “And we can make sure that we get some fabulous designers to dress you for red carpet events. Sherry was telling me that Javi needs to attend these things.”

"You...would want me to go with you?" Somehow that thought hadn't yet occurred to you, and your eyebrows raise practically to your hairline in surprise when you look up at your husband.

Javi’s face immediately twists into something that could only be described as a pout. “You would not want to go?” He understands that it might not be your favorite activity, you might normally be more introverted than your job allows you to be when giving tours, but he had hoped to share this with you. He would want his soulmate by his side for everything, good and bad. Sharing the successes and lamenting failures.

"No, I would love to go." He looks so much like a puppy when he pouts like that, it might really be the sweetest thing in the world even though you never want him to be sad. It means you have your arms around his waist in less than a second to reassure him. "It never occurred to me that you would bring me with you. It just....hadn't dawned on me yet."

“You are my wife.” He huffs, almost insulted but placated by the notion you just hadn’t thought of it yet. “My soulmate. I want to have you with me for everything.”

"Then I'll be there for everything." Everything is suddenly a much larger notion to you, but it's still amorphous enough not to be daunting. The most important piece of it is him, after all. "Cross my heart."

“And I want to be there for you.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you passionately. Unable to believe he can do that whenever he wants now. “For everything.”

"I don't think," you giggle softly when he finally pulls back and you remember how to breathe again. "That the museum is going to have anything as big or flashy as a red carpet for you to fuss over."

“Then we should have the red carpet event here.” Javi suggests, lighting up at the idea.

"Oookay buddy." Nick chuckles, clapping Javi on one shoulder. "We don't have to plan another party all in one night, right?"

“Sorry.” He chuckles self-consciously as he shoots you a grin. “We should focus on our wedding before anything else.”

"There's no harm in being excited about the future." Though you see from Nick's handling of it and Javi's sheepish reaction that this may be a recurring reaction from your soulmate. He gets very excited about things and maybe gets carried away.

“See?” Javi grins at Nick, making the other man roll his eyes. “My soulmate likes it.” Nick had oftentimes teased Javi that his soulmate would have to be of the opposite disposition to put up with his somewhat free and spontaneous nature.

"I think getting excited for things is well worth it," you admit. "Maybe because there hasn't been too much to get excited about before, who knows. But a book release is the event of the year for me, usually."

“Book releases are important.” Javi agrees sagely. You must have a nice collection of books and it makes him wish he still had the library in Mallorca. You would have loved it.

"You really are my soulmate," you hum, delighted to hear that he likes to read as well.

“Is there any doubt?” He asks playfully and hums as he pulls you closer. “Should we dance? You look like you should dance.”

"We should definitely dance." It is the easiest thing in the world to be drawn away by him, and you won't apologize for the way it makes your heart take wing in your chest. Tonight really is just a perfect dream and he keeps making it better.

He knows the cameraman is still walking around, filming. Parts of this day will end up being in the bonus scenes and he really doesn’t mind. Sweeping you out to the dance floor, he agrees that your dress is perfect without the train. “Have we missed anything you wanted today?”

"Everything has been perfect." Even the sting of not having your family care about tonight has been soothed away by the appearance of this new family knitting together around you, and you hold him as happily close as possible as you move around the ballroom with him. "What about you? What else would make tonight perfect?"

“I cannot think of a single thing.” He admits softly. “Other than figuring out where we would like to spend tonight.”

The question warms you through and makes his hand on your waist feel all the more weighty and important. “Did you have a special idea? Or a preference?” For a moment you wonder if he, like you, has been living an implacably solo lifestyle. There is no way your little studio will be big enough for two.

“I have a little cottage.” Javi admits. “But maybe we can get a suite at a hotel? Make it special?” He wants you to be comfortable, to feel like you had more than just a rushed experience.

“A cottage?” The idea sounds so sweet to you that you almost sigh. “We could…stay at yours tonight? And plan the rest of the weekend over breakfast tomorrow?”

“Are you sure?” He’s a little shocked that you would want to stay in his little cottage rather than in a four star hotel with round the clock room service.

“Well, I would bring you home with me but there’s no way we would both be comfortable,” you reason, not thinking about the luxury for a second.

“I understand.” He nods, aware that you might not want him in your space. “I was just making sure you did not want room service?”

“Room service is fun.” You’ll never deny that. “But all I care about is walking up next to my soulmate tomorrow morning.”

The smile is slow as it spreads across his face, he’s shocked that his cheeks don’t hurt from how much he’s been smiling today. Just another miracle of finding you, finding his other half. “Okay.” He agrees softly. “I will show you my cottage. It’s—” he hesitates. “Temporary.” He promises. “Now that you are my wife, you can help me plan the building.”

“The building?” You ask, but he is already swept up in the music again and humming as he twirls you around the floor, conversation forgotten in favor of so much joy.

The night is perfect. The mood is so joyful that he believes every movie should be kicked off with a wedding. Or maybe it just bodes well for the fate of this movie.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

[mango-dot-yum]

I know I’ve been posting a lot of hate recently… but I’m working on a doll of Pearl so I’ve been looking at a bunch of her costumes, so I need to talk about my least favorites😭😭 to balance it out, I’ll also talk about costumes for Pearl I like.

Disclaimer: these are all just MY opinion. If you like these costumes I’m happy that you do. I just don’t.

First off, I hate this ugly Las Vegas/Tour costume. I already posted a rant about all the coaches’ costumes a while ago, but I’m going to restate some of it here. My main issue is definitely the removal of the front panel of the skirt. When I think of Pearl, I think of her spinning and removing the front panel makes the spinning a lot less cooler looking. The part covering her bust being removed makes the neck thing look a lot more random and out of place and honestly, bad. She also just looks weird with no leggings, and I don’t like the blonde hair. The design feels too mature(there’s definitely a better word, I just can’t think of it rn) for Pearl. Pearl is either portrayed as innocent and really naive who is well intentioned in the end, or she’s a sucky person with no regard for others and just pretends to be nice, and this design doesn’t fit either. This costume is genuinely so ugly that I’m only putting one example photo of it.

A costume I do like is the Broadway costume for Pearl. This is probably the most iconic/well-known costume for Pearl since it- and barely unchanged versions of it- were used until 2018. It’s metallic and sleek which goes well with Pearl being the brand-new girl. The “OBSERVATION” panel and the “PM” on the skirt makes it feel a lot more like someone dressing up as a train instead of just someone dressing up, and I like the more square shoulder things instead of the more rounded ones used originally. There’s definitely a reason this costume went unchanged for so long.

Another Pearl costume I don’t like is probably one unsurprising- Bochum 2018. The costume itself is practically the exact same as it was before the 2018 changes, save for the “OBSERVATION” being changed to “FIRST CLASS” and the obvious color change. I do not like the all white costume because it makes a lot of the details blend together and makes the costume too same-y. Other costumes had variation with different types of pinks, silvers, and whites, but this only has the white. It also has a slick, straight ponytail, which is not what o think of when I think of Pearl. It reminds me of how Hatsune Miku has gotten smaller and smaller pigtails throughout the years. To me, Pearl’s hair has always been one of the staples of her character, and this was such a dramatic change. This costume just feels so much more conservative and sophisticated in a way that doesn’t feel like Pearl. Pearl has always been frilly and girlish- and while I understand why they might want to change that- it’s also so deeply engrained in her character that removing it almost makes her another character.

Lastly, a costume I do like. The original London production is beautiful, and it’s a shame that elements from it were never brought to other versions of this character. The costume has quite a bit of black in it- something that other productions never really saw. Pearl has a puffball skirt and the only pink that’s used in the main part of the costume is the belt she has on. I also like the wig and how it’s multicolored with black, pink, and white, something that also solely remained with the London production. The voluminous hair is something that stayed with Pearl for many years, but I wouldn’t say any wig looks fluffy like this one. I really do wish the black stayed with the costume.

At the beginning I mentioned making a doll of Pearl, so if anyone wants updates/progress of that as I go, please let me know :D I’m in the planning stage right now but have the fabric, paint, clay, and all the other materials that I’ll need. And if anyone wants my opinions on Starlight Express characters, costumes, or anything, send me an ask about it! I like sharing my opinions about it, even if most people don’t care

[morbethgames]

Love In Stasis - Chapter 4

Hey everyone, the story wasn't getting quite the amount of feedback or traction just on my Patreon, so I'm gonna be releasing at least a few more free chapters here. The Patreon version is currently up to Chapter 16, which is the chapter that really puts the sapphic into this sapphic romance mystery. So, if you're enjoying this story, please consider supporting over there, and I'd love to hear your thoughts and what you think about this story!

Patreon : Love in Stasis Chapter 1 :

Love in Stasis Chapter 2 :

Love in Stasis Chapter 3 : The Bureau Current Demo

4:23am - Police Station

Luz could be seen through the one way glass window from the other side of the interrogation room. Two men were standing there, arms crossed. One of them was a taller, dark-skinned, muscular man with a goatee and connected mustache. The other was an older white man, a little shorter than his six-foot-two counterpart, with a graying beard. The taller man had a perturbed look, while the other was more stern. 

“It doesn’t look good, Andre,” the man with the gray beard said.

“Yeah, I know,” Andre sighed heavily through his nose, then turned his head towards his captain. “But she didn’t do this, Crane.”

Captain Crane looked back at him sympathetically, but still not losing that sternness he was known for. “It’s not about whether I believe that. It’s about whether you can prove that.” He looked back into the room where Luz was sitting. She brought a hand up to her face and rubbed her eyes, wiping a stray tear away from one of them. The image of her ex-girlfriend’s lifeless body on the ground was no doubt continuously flashing through her mind.

The detective furrowed his brow, “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“That’s still applicable. Always will be.” Crane nudged his head towards Luz, “But if you can prove she’s innocent now, then we won’t have to keep her in our pool of suspects.”

Andre ran a hand down his goatee, then pointed towards Luz, obviously frustrated. His voice was calm in spite of that, “I’ve known Luz since she was a little girl. I’m tellin’ you, there’s no way she did this. It’s her job to search out crime that’s happening on that campus.”

“And it’s our job to consider all the possibilities, Andre. C’mon, you know that.” Captain Crane shook his head and sighed, “Look, I gave this one to you as a courtesy. Because I know you care about her. Just tell me right now if that was a mistake, because I’ll call someone else in here.”

There’s a pause as Andre turns to look into the interrogation room. He thinks about it, albeit briefly, then says, “No, I’ll handle it.”

“Good,” Crane said, opening the observation room door. “Then do your job, Detective Johnson. Keep me updated.” The police captain reluctantly looked towards the front of the station where the news reporters and cameras had gathered, before looking back. “I have a media frenzy to cull.”

A few more minutes go by, and at this point Luz is just sitting there, stuck in her own head. The cool metallic surface of the table is chilling against her skin as she leans her arms on it. At the very least, they gave her a clean set of clothes and let her wash her hands and face. Thanks to that, most of Mel’s blood was cleaned from her body, but she could still feel the weight of it. That viscous feeling on her palms still hadn’t gone away.

Her hands clenched as her face contorted into anguish and anger. What if she hadn’t spaced out? What if she hadn’t looked down at her phone? What if she had been just a minute sooner to the scene? She could’ve saved her. She could’ve been there, like she promised she always would be. Even after they broke up, she told Mel she’d always have her back. Well where the fuck was she this time? 

Why couldn’t she just be thirty seconds faster?!

The door opened, making her look up, momentarily freeing her from the guilt-ridden thoughts. She wiped an arm across her face to wipe away the tears that began to fall. “Andre…” 

The detective didn’t speak. At least not until the door behind him shut all the way. Then he let out a sigh and walked towards the table, staring down at her sympathetically. “Hey, kid.” He sat down on the edge of the table with a file in his hand, “How’re you holding up?”

Luz bit her lip, looked away and shook her head. The movement obviously meant to indicate ‘not well’. 

Andre nodded, taking another deep breath and placing the folder down onto the table. “You okay enough to answer a couple of questions?”

Luz sniffed, giving a half-shrug, half-nod in return. 

“Good, because Luz,” he paused, purposefully waiting for her to look at him. Which she did, slowly. “They have you as their lead suspect for this.”

Her eyes widened, and a look of rage came across her face. “What?!” 

“Luz-”

“I’m the one that fucking called it in!” She slammed a fist down onto the table, “She used to be my fucking girlfriend!” 

“And that, and your home life, is why they’re looking at you for this,” he replies calmly. 

Luz scoffed in disbelief, “My home life?! No, you mean my dad!” She stood up and leaned forward, putting her hands flat on the table. “Y’know, when you guys would answer those calls of drunken disorderlies down at the bar, and you’d let him off with a warning or have him spend a couple nights in jail, who the fuck do you think was getting the worse end of it when he was allowed to go home, huh?” Her voice raised to a shout, “And then you wanna use that to pin this shit on me?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hey hey, kid-” Andre put up a hand, keeping an even tone and trying to de-escalate the tension. “-I’m not tryin’ to pin anything on you. Remember who the cop was that put your old man away in the first place.” He pointed to his chest, then let his hands rest in his lap. “The higher ups just care about making this all go away, but I’ll be damned if I let them-” he pointed to the door, “-pin anything on you, alright?” 

She stared him down and tears began to well up in her eyes again. So many emotions could’ve been contributing to them. Anger, frustration, sadness; it was too difficult to pinpoint the exact cause. Detective Johnson continued, “So you can stand, or you can sit, but do us both a favor and simmer down a couple notches. Because you’re angry; I get it. I would be too. Only a handful of people in the entire world know what you’re going through right now, but I really need you to keep a calm head and help me get you through this, okay?”

A tense silence settled in the room. There was nothing more infuriating than knowing that the people out there wanted to use their failures to pin her for a crime she didn’t commit. The murder of her friend. But ultimately, that wasn’t on Andre. If there was one person in this building she did trust, it was him. He was like the father figure she never had growing up, and probably the main reason she’s practicing criminal justice in the first place. 

So she let her legs give out and sat back in the chair, “Alright.”

“Good,” Andre leaned back to a more neutral position and continued, “So, tell me what happened. Where were you from two-thirty to three-fifteen this morning?”

Luz’s voice lost all defiance. All fight. Mostly because she felt secure enough with Andre to actually drop it. “I’ve been working all night. Patrolling around campus. At two-forty-five I stopped by Ellie’s Diner to grab a coffee. Then I took the car and went to sit in the Grayson Library parking lot until my break was over. I noticed someone on the green, but they took off as soon as I shut the car door.” She balled her hands into fists, “I should’ve gone after them.”

“You couldn’t have known, Luz.” Another pause enveloped the interrogation room before Andre continued. “Did you get a look at them?”

Luz shook her head, “No. Anywhere from five-foot-six to five-foot-ten. Wearing a baseball cap or something. I couldn’t see’em. It was too dark.” She started to bounce her leg, trying to hold it together. “After that I went to investigate where they’d been. And that’s when I found-” she stopped herself and grit her teeth. If she didn’t, she’d have broken down yet again. “I, uh… c-called it in after that. After I…” Her bottom lip quivered, “After I found her…” 

“Okay, hey-” Andre reached out his hand and leaned forward, putting it on her shoulder. “This is good, kid. You did good.”

She looked up at him, a single tear running down one of her cheeks, and waited for him to continue. 

“The fact that you were in your patrol car means they’ll be able to track the GPS back to everywhere you went tonight and know how long you were there for. They scoured the scene of the crime, searched your clothes, and searched your car. They didn’t find a murder weapon. Since you didn’t have it on you, and you didn’t have time to dispose of it in an area away from the immediate crime scene, there’s no way you could’ve done this.” He looked her in the eyes to make sure she understood what he’s saying, “You hear me? You’ll be outta here in a couple hours.”

Luz nodded, then looked down at the table.

“That bein’ said,” Detective Johnson said, “I do need you to sit tight for a couple of hours while we get the data from your work, okay? I’ll drive you back to your dorm room after we sort it all out.” He pats her shoulder a couple of times. “Hang in there kid.” Then, he stands up and begins walking to the door. 

“Hey, um, A-Andre…” Luz’s voice nearly gets caught in her throat, but it’s enough to make Andre turn around as he’s grabbing the handle to leave. “I, um,” she taps her fingers on the table. The words are difficult to push through due to the enormous amounts of bottled up emotions. But the grief is just too much. She was in front of someone she trusted and respected, and she just couldn’t keep holding it in any longer. “I don’t- I don’t know… what to do…” 

Andre’s shoulders visibly sulk as he sees the girl he’s tried so hard to protect lose all sense of innocence she had left. It wasn’t enough being knocked around at home, the world had to go and put this on her too. Not just the weight of a loss, but the guilt that came with it, too. It’s something he’d asked himself a number of times on the job.

What if I was just a little faster?

Luz closed her eyes and tears began spilling out in full force. She kept looking down and shook her head, her hair swaying from side to side as she spoke through strained cries. “I don’t know what to do…” 

It was almost enough to bring Andre to tears too. “Kid…” His voice was gentle and cautionary. He walked over towards her, and she immediately got up and turned to hug him. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him when she did, though. She felt weak, and for some reason ashamed. 

He hugged her back, putting a hand behind her head and letting her cry on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” He rubbed her back comfortingly, “It’s not your fault, Luz.”

11:25am - Madeline’s Dorm Room

As Madeline opened her eyes, she saw the familiar, yet blurry, walls and furniture of her dorm room. As her sight started to return to normal, she groaned and began sitting up.

“Hey, she’s awake.” The deeper voice said. 

“Oh, thank god.” A higher pitched voice said. 

“Where-?” Madeline began to speak, but her mouth felt extremely dry. She coughed and saw a figure come into view. 

“Easy there, Mads. Take it easy. Here,” Darrel handed her a cup of water he had kept on the desk at the foot of the bed. He tilted it up to her lips, letting her take a couple of sips before pulling it away. 

“Maddie?” Angie, one of the R.A.'s, was standing behind him, “How are you feeling?” 

“My head hurts.” The exhausted woman managed to prop herself up against the headboard, groaning as she answered the question, slowly reaching up to place the palm of her hand on her temple. She looked at both of them, who each had extremely concerned expressions on their faces. “What happened?”

Darrel looked away for a second and then stepped back, allowing Angie to come forward and take her hand. “Maddie, sweetie,” she gave it a gentle squeeze, “you were drugged at the bar last night.”

Her eyes went wide, and she put a hand over her mouth. Fear immediately came over her and she had assumed the absolute worst. Before that fear had time to fully set in, however, Angie leaned forward and continued. “Hey, that’s all that happened, okay? Darrel came along and caught you before it could fully take effect.”

She looked over at the physical trainer, still frightened, but less so now. She seemed more horrified that a guy was in the room while this conversation was happening. It was humiliating, especially in front of a man. She couldn’t even put into words why. It just made her feel a little more uncomfortable. That, in turn, made her feel guilty, because from what she was just told, he’s the one that got her to safety in the first place. 

Thing is, Darrel also seemed uncomfortable in the situation. He was looking away, and pretending as if he wasn’t hearing any of their conversation. Mainly to try and help Maddie feel more comfortable. “After the paramedics left, we both stayed here for the night to keep an eye on you.” 

Madeline held up a hand, looking confused. “Woah woah, wait- paramedics?” 

“Um, yeah,” Angie looked back at Darrel, who shared her look of concern, then turned back. “The paramedics got here shortly after you guys got back to the dorm. They woke you up as much as they could and had you take a couple tests.”

Maddie shook her head and her breathing started to speed up, “I don’t- I don’t remember. Last thing I remember was being at the bar.” She looked under the sheets, in a paranoia that everything wouldn’t be alright, then swiveled her head from left to right to look around the room. “W-what did they do? I- I don’t-”

Darrel came over and placed a hand on her shoulder, speaking softly. “Maddie. Maddie, it's okay. I promise, nothing happened. You weren’t assaulted or anything; I wasn’t ‘bout to let you stay at that place and risk letting that happen. When the EMT’s came in, I left the room for a bit-” he made sure to specify that part, “-then they took a urine sample, and a blood sample. They checked your eyes and, well, did other shit to make sure you were safe to stay here and sleep it off. We should get notified about what was used in a couple of weeks or so, they said.”

Madeline stared at him, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “I just wanted to have a good time.” Her bottom lip quivered and she crossed her arms over her chest, gripping near her shoulders.

Darrel wasn’t sure what to do at this point. He looked over to Angie, who was equally as concerned. “Do you,” he paused, drawing out the end of the last word a little, “want me to call Mel?”

All Madeline did was nod her head yes while she quietly cried to herself for a bit. 

He got up and reached over to her phone, but just as he opened the contacts and started typing in Melody’s name, there were a few hard knocks on the door. He turned his head to look at Maddie, seeing Angie sitting with her now and making sure she was being taken care of. So, he figured it was alright to answer the door first. 

He put the phone down on the desk and went to answer it. When he peered into the hallway and saw who it was, there was an immediate sense of dread. Not because of the aforementioned who, but because of how rough she looked, “Luz?” 

She looked awful. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. She’d barely had anything to eat since dinner time the previous night. Not to mention her eyes were extremely bloodshot from all of the crying she’d been doing the past eight or so hours. 

Luz looked just as surprised to see Darrel opening the door as he was to see her on the other side of it. A bubbling sense of jealousy built inside her, but was luckily numbed by the news she came here to give Madeline. Still, the confusion was prominent in her tone, “Darrel? The hell are you doing here?”

He looked back into the room and took a deep breath, before looking back at Luz. “Better question is, what happened to you?” He stepped out into the hall, letting the door close most of the way behind him. “You didn’t sleep last night or somethin’?”

She looked off to the side and cleared her throat, “No.” Luz paused, controlling the urge to just push her way into the dorm room. “You mind giving us some time alone? I have something I need to talk to Maddie about.” She was dreading it, but it still had to be done.

Darrel shook his head, “Look, Luz, I don’t know what you got goin’ on, but it’s not really a good time right now.” He side-eyed the door before returning his gaze. 

Luz furrowed her brow in frustration, “Look, I don’t fuckin’ care what you two had goin’ on last night, you can give it a rest long enough for me to talk with her, alright?”

Darrel glared down at her, “You best tone down the venom, homegirl. I don’t appreciate the third degree-”

The woman attempted to just push her way past him, “I don’t have time for this shit. Just-” 

“Luz-” Darrel put a hand on her shoulder and pushed against her, which she shrugged off angrily and prepared to push back in retaliation.

“Hey- don’t fuckin’ touch me man!” 

“Maddie was drugged last night.” The words left his mouth sternly, but still in almost a whisper. 

She stopped in her tracks and her eyes went wide, “What did you just say?”

Darrel let out a heavy breath, “Maddie was at a bar last night and I saw her start to, y’know-” he held his hand flat, tilting it back and forth. “So I walked over to see if she was alright.” His eyes drifted down, “She wasn’t.”

Luz’s head was spinning with a million different thoughts. A thousand different emotions. Did someone take advantage of her? Was she awake now? Did she get help? Who slipped her that drink? Who was she going to go beat the shit out of and probably get expelled over? Did Maddie know? Should she even tell her right now if she doesn’t?

She was flexing her arm and clenching her fist so hard out of anger that her hands were shaking. Her throat was strained and she was actively holding back the need to throw a fist at the wall as hard as she could. Depending on the answer she got to this next question would be the answer to whether or not she followed through with that impulse. 

“Did they-” she grit her teeth, “Y’know-”

Darrel held out his hands and quickly answered, seeing where her head was at, “No- fuck no. I got there before anyone could lay a fuckin’ hand on her.” 

Both of them released a sigh as a vast majority of the tension simmered down to a palatable amount. “Trust me, I was askin’ myself the same question when I first saw her. I was ready to knock someone on their ass, too. But no, I took her here as soon as I knew what happened, and Angie and I have been with her all night since then.”

Luz nearly started crying again right then and there, only out of relief this time. “God-” she put a hand up to her forehead and took a deep breath. Then she took a step forward and pulled Darrel into a tight hug. “Thank you, man. I mean it. Thank you so much.”

From this point, Darrel is taken completely off guard. He’s never seen Luz like this in his two years of knowing her and hanging out with her. She’s always either acting tough, or joking around, or brooding. But he’s never seen her emotional like this. He cautiously wrapped an arm behind her in response. 

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” There was a pause between the two where they just held the hug for a bit before Luz pulled away and took a step back. “Luz, are-” he lowered his voice a little more, “are you alright?”

She shook her head, having to take a deep breath before responding in order to hold it together. “No. I know it’s not a good time, but I still need to talk to her.” She looked him in the eyes, her gaze pressing and her tone was desperate, “Please.”

The door opened behind him and both he and Luz looked to see Angie’s head sticking out. “Darrel, what’s going-” then she saw Luz and nodded as a form of greeting, “Luz, hi. Sorry, Maddie’s not taking any visitors right now. I can give her a message if you-”

“Mel’s dead.” Luz interrupted, quietly. The words left her throat like she had to push them out. 

Both Angie and Darrel’s faces dropped. Their eyes went wide in disbelief, and Darrel was the first one to speak up. “What the fuck do you mean she’s dead?” He looked back to Angie, who had a hand up covering her mouth and the beginnings of tears started to form.

Luz closed her eyes and talked through clenched teeth, trying to get through a quick explanation. “I found her body on patrol last night on the green outside the library.” She looked back up at Darrel with the same pleading expression, “Please, man, I need to be the one to tell her. Alright- look she’s my friend, and she was Mel’s best friend, and Mel was my-” She choked on the words, and wasn’t able to get the rest of them out without breaking, which she couldn’t allow herself to do out here in the hallway.

A tear rolled down Angie’s cheek and quietly spoke through her hand, “This can’t be happening.”

“Please, Darrel.” Luz’s voice snapped him out of his disbelief, “Maddie can’t learn about this from the news, or some email the school sends out. It’s gotta be from me.” She pauses again, letting the words sink in. Letting the realization of what hearing it by a third party like that might do to her. But Luz was so hellbent on being the one to tell her because, in a way, it was one of the last things that she could do for Melody. To be there for her best friend on probably the worst day of her life. “Please.”

Darrel stares at her for a moment, then subtly nods his head, his gaze much more mournful than it previously was, “Alright. We’ll get outta here. C’mon, Ange.” 

Angie wasted no time fast-walking out the door and down the hall. The tears that had already escaped were only the first of many. One could only imagine that an R.A. felt somewhat responsible for the students in their building. In a way, she might have felt like she failed Melody too. 

Darrel took a couple steps out of the room and held the door for Luz, who put a hand on it to stop it from closing and began walking forward. “And Luz,” Darrel said, causing her to stop where she was and look back at him, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for your loss. If you need anything,” he paused again, letting his sentence trail off. He and Luz weren’t the touchy feely kind of people. They didn’t show their emotions on their sleeve. So when he simply left it at that, all she had to do was look at his face and she knew what he meant. 

“Thanks. I will.” 

Darrel nodded to her and walked down the hallway to try and catch up with Angie to make sure she was alright. 

Which left Luz standing there, holding the door to the dorm room open. She turned her head to see what little of the inside she could from this angle, trying to gather enough willpower to take those first steps in. With a deep breath, she gathered the strength to move that first foot and steeled herself for one of the toughest conversations of her life.

As she heard the door close, Madeline looked up and saw who it was. Her eyes widened a bit and she instinctively pulled the covers up towards herself a little more, “Luz?” For some reason, she was the last person Maddie wanted to see right now. Because of the shame. The humiliation. Because she felt so unbelievably stupid for letting something like this happen in the first place. None of these thoughts were warranted, and logically, it wasn’t her fault at all. But if logic had a say in trauma responses, no one would need therapists. 

She couldn’t figure out why she felt this way with Luz though. After all, she was-

“Hey, Maddie.” Luz spoke softly, interrupting her train of thought and sitting on the side of the bed, close to her. “Heard you had a rough night.” Madeline’s head sank and her expression fell. “How are you holding up?”

Maddie shrugged, “Dunno. I feel-” she had to stop to think of what to say, “Stupid, I guess.”

Luz immediately scooched a little closer and put a hand on one of her legs that was currently covered by the blanket. “Hey, stop that. It’s not your fault some asshole decided to slip something into your drink.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve been more-”

“Maddie,” Luz rubbed her leg, interrupting her thought process before she could finish, “it’s not your fault. Don’t victim blame yourself, okay? All you did was go out to have a good time. This isn’t on you.”

Madeline looked up at Luz for the first time since she sat on the bed. She didn’t know if forgiveness towards herself would come anytime soon, but having someone here to reassure her and remind her not to blame herself was a step in the right direction. 

When Maddie did look up, though, she saw what kind of state Luz was in. “Luz,” she leaned forward a bit, “you look like hell. What happened?”

Luz looked down and attempted to keep it together. Because Madeline would need her to. She needed to be the strong one out of the two of them, at least for right now. 

“Luz?” Madeline asked softly, moving one of her hands just a little closer to Luz’s, but not so much that they were touching. 

“Mads, I um,” she cleared her throat again and looked Maddie in the eye. The concern was already palpable, “Melody. She’s-” Luz’s eyes became glassy and she found it more difficult to speak. “She’s dead, Mads.”

Madeline just stared for a couple of seconds. 

She blinked, and a small smile came across her lips as she tried to reassure her friend. “Luz, I was just with her last night. Melody’s fine.”

But the longer Luz continued to silently stare at her, the more unsure Madeline got. The silence was all that filled the room. From the look on the taller woman’s face, Madeline knew Luz was sure of what she said. And so her own expression became more irritated, and she retracted her hand. “Luz, you’re wrong.” 

Another couple seconds of silence. 

Luz shook her head. 

“Or you’re lying. You’re wrong or you’re lying, Luz, and I really don’t fucking appreciate it.” Madeline nudged her head towards the desk, “Go grab my phone. I’ll call her right now. Come on, go get it.”

“Mads,” Luz talked softly, and tears were dangerously close to escaping at this point. “I found her body on the green this morning.”

“No-” Maddie held up a pointer finger. Tears began to form in her own eyes now as her breath sped up. “No, Luz-”

“I ran over but I was too late. I couldn’t help her-”

“No! You’re lying!” Madeline pushed forward in an attempt to shove Luz away. To shove the harsh, bitter reality that was being presented to her away. 

Luz’s voice broke a little and a single tear dropped down her cheek. “I didn’t want you to find out through social media or the news-” she shook her head again, almost in a pleading gesture. Pleading for her friend to forgive her for even having to be the one to tell her this in the first place. “Mads I’m so sorry-”

Madeline threw a hand forward as she screamed at the top of her lungs with tears rushing down her face. “NO!” The first one managed to hit Luz in the side of the face, which surprised the woman. But she quickly recovered and was able to restrain Madeline’s wrists by her sides, pulling the distraught woman closer towards herself. 

Maddie began getting dizzy again. The hysteria was in full effect, and the fact that she wasn’t fully rested from just being drugged at the bar last night only made things worse. “You’re lying!” She screamed out again, then collapsed forward into Luz’s shoulder. 

After a couple of seconds, with Maddie uncontrollably crying into her, Luz swiftly released her wrists and wrapped her arms around her, letting tears of her own begin to fall. One of her hands rested on Madeline’s back, and the other on the back of her head. Luz only felt her emotions take an even bigger nose-dive when she could feel Maddie noticeably shaking. The news wasn’t just catastrophic; it had sent her into a form of shock. It was one of the worst pains Madeline had ever felt, and would ever feel, in her lifetime. 

“MEL!” She sobbed, drawing out her best friend’s name as some sort of plea or bargain to try and get her back. “No, Mel!” Maddie continued shouting similar things into Luz’s shoulder in between her heart-wrenching sobs. 

Luz rubbed the back of Maddie’s head, trying to comfort her as much as she could. She swallowed the lump in her throat and sniffed, trying and succeeding to talk clearly past her own tears. “I’m so sorry Mads. I promise you, I’m gonna find out who did this. I’m gonna take care of you.” She began rocking subtly left and right, “I promise.”

At that moment, with both of them so stricken by grief, neither of them really knew exactly what those words meant. They would have time later to reflect on them, but for the time being, they both needed each other to mourn. Nothing would ever be the same again. 

Entire worlds have crumbled beneath the weight of feelings like this. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything that was once right in the world seemed to be a never-ending spiral of horrid, suffocating truths. A downward cascade of events that, when put together, made a reality that no sane person could ever be content with living in. The only way anyone could get through it all… was together.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Do you think Louis has Stockholm Syndrome?

I mean I want to say no, because I think this isn’t really the appropriate use/meaning of Stockholm Syndrome, but I’m not trying to be pedantic about it and I understand what you’re asking LOL. 

Being completely transparent with you here, I’m not into Loustat so I don’t have the most generous opinion of them sdgka and this is one of the areas of VC where I feel really critical of the way Anne Rice wrote it in the second half of the series. And not like in a pearl clutchy way like wAHEEHHHH DONT ROMANTICIZE IIT but in like a “please show Louis some respect as a character because he would be so much more interesting if you allowed him to have a personality and to stand up to lestat” 🥸🥸🥸

But really I think like, especially in the IWTV era, it’s just a pretty straightforward unhappy and abusive marriage. I think we could even use the term “trauma bond” to describe the way Louis loves Lestat (at least back then) but there’s something to be said about like, any of the ways in which Louis had loved Lestat anyway, which he didn’t openly admit to in the book. It always begs the question of which came first—the love which then allowed him to stick around and be patient through all the bullshit, or the trauma which then subliminally caused him to become attached?

Something I think people don’t always understand about abusive relationships is that you don’t usually fall in love with someone who treats you like shit from the beginning. You love them for other reasons and then stay around after their masks come off, or after they deteriorate for whatever the reason. You stick around for the sunk cost fallacy, because there’s potential in there somewhere and you stay in love with the idea you have of who the person is and who you wish they were. 

With Louis, we have to READ BETWEEN THE LINES as Lestat says, like. The Loustat shippers have discussed to death that Louis was a repressed homosexual and so like there must have been attraction there and there must have been SOMETHING. But Louis’s story and character is so dictated by Catholicism and penance that his commitment to immortality as a means to punish himself also treats the symbolic marriage to Lestat as a curse. 

We’ve also discussed to death in fandom for decades like, what’s the most true version of events and which of the two of them are being more truthful? I’ve always sort of taken Louis’s side, because there’s some sort of objective things Lestat did (like turning a 5 year old 😂) that are undeniable, were witnessed by others, and which really tell us a lot about the person Lestat is. But I think Louis can tell us an objective series of events and still be dishonest about his own culpability or his own sincere feelings of love. 

So like I think, as fans, there’s a few version of the story that you can pick at. I tend to read IWTV as a story about a man moving from abusive relationship to abusive relationship, and I read the New Orleans era as an abusive marriage, but whatever love was there doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a trauma bond. 

Lestat keeps him trapped by withholding information, and then babytraps him with Claudia. There are times where Louis worries for Claudia’s safety. Louis definitely stays, at least at times, out of fear. 

But I do always wonder how much love was actually there. It sneaks out from time to time. And like, does Louis reallllllly give a shit, like could he have left if he really wanted to? Maybe. I wonder a lot, too, about how close they actually were during their marriage — we know that Louis never drank another vampire’s blood at least until Merrick, so their marriage was essentially sexless, unless Lestat drank from Louis while Louis just lied there waiting for it to be over. Who the fuck knows lol. 

Ultimately VC is a series about loving and being loved, like love and forgiveness is the ultimate virtue in this universe, and it makes sense as part of the sort of Catholicky world building. Deeply faithful Anne Rice WOULD think that forgiveness is the most divine option. So no matter how ugly someone's past is, they can usually find peace eventually. Louis and Lestat have an extremely ugly first marriage, but when Lestat is in danger in the 1980’s Louis is able to put it behind him and be there and they can try to work through it.

There’s something that shows up in VC about like, even contentious relationships can be so special if it’s someone who’s always been there. (Thinking about Marius & Mael or Lestat & Armand.) So no matter how unhappy they were or how badly Lestat was behaving in IWTV, Louis can soften to him by way of “you are the only constant in my whole wretched cursed immortal life.” 

So like, again we have to ask which came first: the trauma bond or the genuine love? And I’m not a Loustat fucker so I can’t really answer that. I could see either version existing, for whatever reason you need to build the case today. If it’s for meta or for a fic or whatever, there’s not just one single way to approach. 

Either way, where both paths converge is that the second half of the story is so much about grieving an abuser and how complicated it is. Louis feels guilt for how everything went down, but he’s also grieving. And when you grieve an abuser it’s like what I said earlier—sometimes it’s more about the version of them that you wished you’d had. Louis grieves a version of Lestat, and that feeds into the guilt! It’s a snowball! And it’s easy, when you’re away from the abuse, to remember the good things! Louis’s guilt will eat him alive because he remembers all the good things about Lestat, and all the things he could have been!! And it’s hard to make sense of it!  It's also the religious & forgiveness thing that in death your slate is wiped clean, so perhaps in death Lestat has paid for his sins.

It’s really such a poignant book about grief and abuse to me! It even repeats with Claudia—she frees him from Lestat, but becomes cold and abusive herself. He’s miserable with her, and he fears her, and yet the moment she’s gone he reverts to thinking of her as his little daughter that he’s lost.

Anyway.

I’m not sure if this is the answer you were looking for LMAO. Asking me, famously a Lestat Hater, if I think Lestat was a fucking douchebag during their relationship—yes of course!!!! But I recognize that we can frame IWTV in a few different ways to fine tune these points. 

Admittedly, it’s not my area of expertise within VC LOL but this is my reading of it as a layperson!!! 

[viivenn]

the bear and the maiden fair.

[novelconcepts]

[deathsmallcaps]

Captain America: Brave New World (CABNW) analysis

This movie is all about themes of rehabilitation, hope, and not allowing your past to define your future.

Sam is redefining the mantle of the shield, and reclaiming his independence. Since reaching adulthood, he has worked as part of the military, or in a major team, and always besides super powered people (not that he was the only regular human in the Avengers, but you know). And now Sam gets to herald a new age of modern values of rehabilitation.

Steve was also a man of hope, but he (as a white man) fought the Other: fascists and aliens. AKA, unredeemables (in the short term) and nonhumans. He was from WWII; while the full truth of the matter is that the USA did not join the war out of altruism and a wish to save oppressed peoples, I personally feel glad that the USA was able to help out in those matters. I feel our part in the war was justified when it came to stopping multiple genocides. Many people also feel this way, and hold WWII up as this bastion of ‘justified’ wars. Many feel it’s okay that Americans went to Germany and Japan and started killing people, because they were doing it first.

Same thing with alien invasion storylines. I love Steve, but the only person he is MCU-canonically pursuing rehabilitation for is Bucky. He has different values as both a survivor of WWII, a witness to the explosive growth of fascism in the early 1900s, and a white man. Sure, Steve grew up disabled and Irish(-American) in the early 1900s, but he was also a blue eyed blond haired American man who shows no trace of an Irish identity on screen. Steve is a hopeful, principled and angry man.

Meanwhile, Sam grew up being othered as a Black child and then man, joined a war that was never justifiable (never confirmed what war he was in but no war the USA has perpetuated in the 2000s, if not even earlier, has been justifiable), and then continually had to be an examplar wherever he went. Except for possibly War Machine (I’m not sure where he fits in), Sam was the ONLY Avenger of Color. Ever. (And the only one from a more rural area)

And yet Sam always chooses hope and kindness. He has it rough - as the only Avenger of Color, he had to always choose others needs over his own. He and Isaiah Bradley (another person restored by Sam’s rehabilitative justice <3) discuss the weight of that. Bradley points out time and time again that Sam doesn’t owe the world his kindness, his willingness to be a hero, his health and well-being. After all, Bradley got fucked over for doing the right thing, a Steve-type thing, in a Black body. But Sam decides to push on anyway.

I’m not saying Sam isn’t angry. He deserves to feel angry, he has as much right to the emotion as any other human being. But every single goddamn time he can, he chooses to be kind. He chooses to believe that people can find worth again. And that takes a strength of will that is frankly insane. PLUS he does it without a consistently optimized body.

And he chooses to be kind to Ross, of all people. Ross, who is clearly trying to be a changed man in the events of the film - but still a man who imprisons innocents and whose first instinct is to pick fights with nations who own nuclear weapons.

But Sam still reaches out to him. Still helps Ross meet Betty while Ross is in prison. Is the better man, every goddamn time.

Hell, they even represent what changes Sam could herald for the fate of the United States, and even the world, visually. In Ross’s panic as the Red Hulk, he destroys the White House*, a symbol built by slave labor. And under Sam’s tenure as Captain America, it will be rebuilt - along with what a hopefully better United States of America.

I love Sam Wilson, and I am SO excited to see his future as Captain America.

*and possibly also the Washington Memorial? I know he goes by but the detail slipped my mind. It also was built with slave labor. Some might quibble and try to claim that the obelisk was built by skilled stonemasons, but many many many enslaved people were extremely skilled laborers. So there is a huge chance that the stonemasons were enslaved. And even if they used completely white/free Black stonemasons, the quarried stone was mined by enslaved people. So yes, it was built by slave labor.

(Also I think it’s cool that Sam’s getting his own villains like Serpent and Leila Taylor made an appearance? She was basically his only canon love interest EVER**, and she hasn’t appeared since the 1970s. I think it’s still possible that he might be given a male LI or they just never pursue that angle of the character, but at least she and Sam have a relationship built on at least some respect and personal chemistry. Unlike Steven and Sharon.

Personally I’m more of a fan of Samsteve or even SamJoaquin than SamBucky, but that’s just mostly because while he’s grown on me in the last few years, I’m not really a Bucky fan. Samsteve probably won’t happen because of the stupid time travel thing (though who’s to say they didn’t at least have a fling? Plz?) but SamJoaquin could happen! I wasn’t sold on Joaquin right away - his sunny personality was tripping my betrayal alarms in my movie expectations brain - but I am glad to be wrong. I’m excited to see him as Falcon again once he heals up!

**There was a werewolf princess lady? But she literally never came back. Which disappoints me because I thought she was funny (I read her issue) and really unique. She was human but had a device to specifically control werewolves? And they do exist in the MCU, thanks to Werewolf by Night…

I LOVED the dogfight scene. Great body work on Anthony Mackie’s part, interesting background, awesome moves (cutting through a plane with a wing? Punching and pulling a pilot out of their plane and letting the rest of it just fall?? Sam and Joaquin together???) and fucking BOMBSURFING

[steamedlotusroot]

I translated Lego Monkie Kid’s Cantonese Extended Opening

In the tags of my first post I said I wanted to translate the lyrics of the extended OP of the LMK Cantonese dub and I did it :D

Translation notes: (some translations are wonky bc either the og lyrics are ambiguous, I didn’t have enough space to translate the phrases fully, or my Cantonese is rusty)

“All reveal your true forms to me immediately!”— 現形 means to appear/reappear. I personally interpreted it as the spirits/demons showing their true forms when SWK is fighting them, but simply “reveal yourselves to me” works too

“I truly can’t help how popular I am these days.”— One of my wonky translations I think. The og lyric is more like “really, I’m trending right now, I can’t stop it even if I wanted to / even if I tried.”

“But now I have to hide away,”— The lyric for “hide away” 神隱 very specifically refers to gods/immortals/spirits going into hiding

“From now on, keep the Golden Staff with you at all times,”— In the original JttW text, SWK’s staff is called the 金箍棒 “gold-hooped staff/rod”, but in Cantonese the staff is more commonly called the 金剛棒, which doesn’t have the “hoop” character. It’s just a gold stick 

“Only rely on having enough audacity,”— I think it’s supposed to be “have a lot of/enough courage” but it can also mean “audacity”, and since this song is about SWK and MK I think the word “audacity” fits them much better haha

“I will reach the peak for a competition of skill.”— This is an instance of Cantonese being so compressed and concise that I have no idea how to structure the sentence in English

“Endure for the sake of loyalty,”— 捱義氣 means doing a favor out of personal loyalty that you might not want to do (eg. you help your friend clean his car when you hate cleaning cars cuz he’s your bud!). I think “endure for the sake of loyalty” is a goofy way of translating this but I dunno what to write instead

“Assemble surprises.”— I have no idea what this is supposed to mean. This is a very literal translation

“The me today,”— Longer version: The me I am today

“Chock-full of abilities.”— OG lyrics 一身本領 go a little bit like “the whole body is full of skills/abilities”. I wanted to just write “full of talents” but “talent” isn’t quite accurate. I went with “chock-full” cuz it sounds funny

“Clash with fire in a duel,”— I like to think that this line refers to Red Son and I like Red Son :]

“Carrying an endless mission,”— I originally wrote “shouldering” instead of “carrying”, but because 懷 means “embrace/chest” or “harboring”, I thought “carrying” sounds less grueling and more accurate than “shouldering”

“Eyeballs looking around,”— “eyes staring wide and round” probably fits 眼仔睩睩 better, but hopefully “eyeballs” sounds wide and round enough?? And I wanted to turn it into an action so I described the eyes looking around like they’re on guard!

“Grappling arduously with the enemy,”— Lots of ways to translate 搏命: fighting for your life, wrestling for your life, blah blah blah. I hope “grappling” is evocative enough 😭

“Quick-witted actions, be clever,”— I’m not sure if it’s “quick-witted, actions sharp and clever” or “quick-witted actions, be sharp and clever” 💀 靈活 means “mentally flexible”, sharp醒 means “smart, clever, alert, quick-witted”, something like that

“It’s called the NSoFFM,”— The lyric lacks a pronoun in Cantonese so I’m not sure if it means “call me/you the NSoFFM”, “call for the NSoFFM”, “you’re called the NSoFFM”, or something else. I interpreted it as SWK listing a bunch of traits and saying “someone like this will be called the NSoFFM”

“Skyrocket to ascension / I rise at Flower Fruit Mountain.”— 飈升 means shooting up really quickly/suddenly. I’m not sure what “shooting up” means in this context so I kept it as vague as possible. I also translated 飈升 in two different ways “skyrocket to ascension” and simply “rise” even though both lyrics mean the same thing in Cantonese. “Skyrocket” is most accurate IMO, but it sounds weird by itself

“I always strive for self-improvement,”— The og is just “I forever self-strengthen”, which sounds weird to me so I expanded it

“When I wedge into the crack,”— No idea what this means?? I’m guessing it’s supposed to evoke the image of SWK jamming a weapon into a crack? Also I wanted to write “wedge into the fissure” but when I googled “fissure” it showed me results for anal fissures and I was so put off by it I just used “crack” instead, even though “crack” sounds much sillier than “fissure”

“Demons please relax, lest you lose control.”— Nothing to note, I just really like the original lyric. It’s so cocky and badass and SO Wukong (or MK!) /pos

“Use kindness as the mark of recognition,”— Not sure what this really means? I interpret it as “kindness is my goal/principle”, but 記認 means both “marking” and “recognize/remember” so uh

“Evildoing is difficult to regard as the elder brother,”— The og lyric sounds fine but trying to understand it is?? It’s not “evildoers”, it’s “the way/path of evildoing”, but then it says “it’s difficult to be an older brother (non-familial)” like who is it difficult for??? Also “brother” here means a fellow disciple/classmate under the same teacher/master/school, so like the relationship between SWK and the other pilgrims (except their master, of course)

“I can’t be beat to death, swim carefree at the edge of the sky.”— The most egregious lyric IMO. I have absolutely no clue what it’s supposed to mean so maybe I’m just not that good at Cantonese??? It could be “I can’t beat to death swimming carefree at the edge of the sky” or “I can’t be beaten to death, swim carefree at the edge of the sky”. The swimming part lacks a pronoun so idk who’s swimming? What is happening in this sentence?? Help??

“Risk your life when taking action,”— 拼命 either means “as hard as you can” or “risking your life”. I’m only assuming it means the latter because I interpret this as SWK lecturing MK on how to be a hero

“And the battle lineup is again full of wit,”— I can sorta grasp what this means, but idk how to write it in English. 陣容 means the appearance/formation of your battalion and can extend to mean the array of abilities in a certain lineup. Not sure how to actually describe this though 😭 also I used “clever” for sharp醒 earlier but changed it to “wit” here so it’d be a noun and sound like an ability or something

[yonderghostshistories]

….

…..Michael, darling,……you’re gonna be the death of me financially.

[toomanyteefs]

So this is totally unrelated to Star Wars, but I’m just so excited by how the art for it I did turned out that I decided to put it up anyway. One of the original stories I’m working on is about angels and demons, and the angels in particular are beings made of pure celestial fire, but to interact with anything outside the heavenly realm they have to use a special vessel made of stone so they don’t destroy everything they touch, and the type of stone their vessel is made of reflects their place in the hierarchy of heaven with the strongest seraphim vessels being made of ruby and sapphire. (Corundum, which is the mineral rubies and sapphires are made of, is lower on the Moh’s hardness scale than diamond, but diamonds are actually relatively fragile in comparison as they shatter easily when struck from the right angle, so overall corundum is a tougher stone.)

Anyway fallen angels keep their vessels, although they do change slightly to reflect the fallen angel’s new demonic form, thus I did some art of a fallen seraph, Zethael, who is one of the main characters of the story.

[lukadarkwater]

Waiting (Im)patiently for the 1.6 update for Stardew to appear on my Switch