#can all share emotions and anger and joy and thoughts and questions

[thelingering]

brain tired from Latin so have an appreciation post for humanity

[crisiscutie]

Inside Out AU

Inside Out has been on my mind lately, and I thought to myself, why not do an Inside Out AU featuring Fluffy Sephiroth from my Domestic AU? I think this makes sense as within the Domestic AU, Sephiroth is not only exploring fatherhood as a major faucet of his life but also exploring new parts of himself that he never had the chance to do when he was Shinra's ultimate weapon. So for this, it's a great thing that his emotions are prepared to navigate him in this new life!

So, here's an introduction to Sephiroth's emotions!

Joy: Sephiroth's joy represents the happiness he feels, particularly from his family and the happiness he gets from doing what he loves. Joy is incredibly protective of Sephiroth's happiness since he didn't get very much (honestly, hardly anything) during his time in SOLDIER, which can lead to her making rather questionable decisions and go out of line against the other emotions. Joy always tries to make the best out of anything, even during Sephiroth's darkest moments.

Anger: Sephiroth's anger manages his sense of justice (which is carefully watched by other emotions so it doesn't become vengeance). He also shares the disciplinary father role with Pride and his protective instincts with Fear. You can always expect anger to step up to the console whenever Sephiroth's family is threatened in some way, old enemies making themselves known to him, or the triplets being wild and overbearing. Sometimes Anger goes overboard, but thankfully, he's usually tempered by Sephiroth's Joy and/or Love.

Sadness: Sephiroth's sadness helps him empathize/sympathize with others and also reflects on his past. This is incredibly important for Sephiroth as he had little opportunities to be vulnerable before his time with Domestic Darling. Sadness also ensures that Sephiroth stays grounded and true to himself. Once he was a weapon, but now, he's a free man and a loving father. Also, she is necessary to remind Sephiroth to make the most of the good moments by reminding him of what he didn't have before.

Fear: Sephiroth's fear is responsible for his survival instincts and vigilance. He makes sure that Sephiroth is always aware of the ways to protect himself, his family and their peace. If Sephiroth overhears a conversation between villagers about Shinra sending a survey team to the nearby reactor, fear is immediately hitting a button on the control panel to make Sephiroth look around and order the children to get going on their way home. Fear is usually right in knowing what's best for Sephiroth's safety: because you could never know when Shinra will raid the village looking for two of their First Class SOLDIERS or one of the kids opening a door to see the turks before them.

He keeps Sephiroth's anger in check (which may or may not fail) whenever his territorial or protective tendencies get provoked, often reminding him of what could happen if he goes too far.

Disgust: Sephiroth's disgust is responsible for filtering anything that could threaten Sephiroth's collected exterior and also, along with Pride, helps Sephiroth maintain his gracefulness. If his triplet boys are causing total messes in their rooms or the kitchen, you can always expect Disgust to know what exactly needs to be cleaned and how, all while making Sephiroth express disdain for it. She also tries to prevent from Sephiroth from engaging in antics that are far beneath him.

Pride: The purpose of Sephiroth's pride is that he is proud of his accomplishments and achievements, whether they are past and present. He keeps sadness in check to ensure that Sephiroth doesn't dwell too much on the past and doesn't have low self-esteem.

A good way to describe his outfit is to imagine Sephiroth's military ball outfit. He also makes sure Sephiroth is a stern but fair teacher to his children and also shares the protector of the family role with anger. He often guides Sephiroth's actions during sparring times or helps anger when Sephiroth is fighting a threat (with some guidance from fear.)

Love: The last but not least. Sephiroth's Love was once his weakest emotion, starting off as a fragile and sickly girl who was mostly in Joy's shadow, but as Sephiroth bonded more and more with Domestic Darling, she became stronger. Now, as a tall and powerful woman, perhaps one can argue in that she is the lead emotion in Sephiroth's mind. After all, he only ran away with Darling in the first place out of love for her.

Love handles Sephiroth's connection to darling and his children, nurturing those connections at any opportunity. She guides every move of Sephiroth during intimate moments with darling as well, though other emotions certainly try to get in on it as well at times! 😂

An important difference from Joy is that Love is more tender and reserved, but still every bit of confident and strong.

Any ideas, thoughts or questions? Let me know! Next, maybe I could share his Islands of Personality and other emotions!

[bored-storyteller]

Warning: slight angst, angst/comfort, blood mentions, Leona licks you, some may not like it so you are warned.

Author's note: It was supposed to come out on his birthday but that's okay, it's a reworking of something I've already written in the past.

Twisted Wonderland, Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Nightmare

Leona always thought that becoming king would be the greatest joy he could ever get in life. To be acclaimed by his people, loved, respected, seen for the wonder that he truly is. All his problems disappear before his merits, finally recognized.

You're proud of him, aren't you?

He looks at you next to him, he sees your smile. You know you will share his privileges with him.

You love him, you told him in many ways.

So why that sharp pain in his stomach, that death throb under his side?

You smile happily as you hold the bloody sword in your hands. His blood, dripping on the ground, on the royal robes, flowing amidst the laughter of jubilation at the deliverance from the dying king. Ruggie celebrates too, and Jack, and Epel, and even the brats of Heartslabyus cheer in victory. You didn't even bother using magic, just a sharp blade was enough.

His hand grips the wound in a vain attempt to survive.

But if he survives, what's he ever going to do with your hate on his shoulders?

Leona closes his eyes, and for a moment he asks for everything to end soon. But then he realizes from his gasp that it doesn't have the traits of death. The pain in his stomach is suddenly gone: he's awake.

He finds himself sitting between the sheets of his bed in the dark room.

All is calm, only the pale moon is watching him. His hand is wet yes, but only with the sweat of his torment.

It's just a nightmare, he tells himelf, and Leona Kingscholar is no longer a puppy afraid of nightmares. But even as he says it, his chest hurts, a primal dread scrapes the edges of his mind.

He feels so alone in that bed. It’s not the solitude that he claims, to which he is accustomed. It's a loneliness that asks him questions that he never wants to answer, it's a real loneliness, not the one he pretends to want.

Tomorrow everything will be easier with the sun, he thinks, yet he is downstairs outside his room.

He feels cold, his bare toes starting to bother him, but he's stronger than that.

His knocking on your door is insistent and arrogant, but effective.

When you open the door, a thousand emotions pass through your eyes: concern and confusion prevail.

He stands there like a grumpy tousled cat, cuddled up and nose wrinkled as your eyes alternate between him and the time on your phone's glowing screen.

“Leona…is it…quarter past three in the morning?”

“It seems.”

He sees you flutter tired eyelids: “What's going on? Did something catch fire? Is anyone sick? Hurt?”

Leona awake during the day is already a special event, but at night it is definitely a sign of misfortune.

But he snorts: “Nothing like that. Will you let me in?”

You smile at him, stepping aside: “Well, it's the practice, right?”

He doesn't moan or huff, he just walks past you looking for the first place he can sit down. Your expression saddens.

"Leona..." You call him softly, you kneel in front of him but his eyes escape you. His ears hang over his head and for some reason his general appearance of him brings you a melancholy that doesn't usually come from him. The boredom and pent-up anger that is usually your issues with him are dissolved into an existential sadness.

“What happens?” You investigate again, as gently as possible. What on earth could have hurt the prince so much as to reduce him like this? And what can you do, little creature, in front of something like that?

Leona remains immersed in silence for a period of time that you cannot quantify, but when his green eyes finally look at yours and you can hear his voice, there is no answer waiting for you: "Do you hate me?"

That question comes out to him in such a strange tone, feeble and wounded, that it scares even him. The big bad lion is not brave enough to face his inner monsters.

You're shocked, you almost think it's a joke, or you're dreaming, because such Leona is unthinkable.

“Do people hang out with those they hate at your home?” You ask with a hint of a smile that just wants to reassure him, even if you aren't sure either. Your hands slide over his, you take them meekly as if they were wet little birds: "Why on earth should I hate you, Leona?"

His mind suddenly comes up with more reasons than are actually real, and at the same time he seeks an answer within your gaze.

Then, suddenly, his eyebrows furrow in tension as he sights something that had gone unnoticed up to that moment.

“What did you do?” He asks as his thumb brushes the edges of what looks like a dry cut on your forehead near your left temple.

“What? What is it?” You ask confused at first, as your hand goes up to his.

“Oh, no, it's nothing!” Then you laugh, relaxing “A small accident during the alchemy lesson a few days ago. Nothing serious."

A few days ago. Nothing serious.

He hadn't noticed. Even though you'd been around him most of the time, he hadn't noticed at all. You had been hurt and he hadn't noticed.

He must have let you down, and he feels humiliated. Someone looked after you so well that you didn't even feel the need to tell him – or maybe he didn't listen to you?

He bites his lower lip in an unconscious punishment, while he feels his swollen heart become heavier in the new awareness of being useless to you.

“Come here.”

His dragging you into his lap feels rough, but you sense that something has changed in him, something that had remained unknown until then.

“Leona?” You call him quietly, but he silences you with a soft whisper. You're not sure what his behavior responds to, whether it's a puppy's need for affection, the care of a lover or a primordial protective instinct that resides in the animal part of him.

His tongue slowly caresses your wound with mechanical and slow movements. They are of no use now, yet they speak of his need to have you near, to be worthy of having you.

It's a prayer for forgiveness he'll never say in words, but what's the need for words?

Your palms rest patiently on his shoulders, and his hand gently holds the opposite side of your face as he continues that primal ritual.

How many hidden sides does your magical prince have?

“You should do this more often.” You tell him, while you hug more to his chest.

“Don't get your hopes up.” He answers you, but in the meantime he feels your body abandoned in his hands, all your need to receive the love of your loved one.

Your hand rests on his neck, caresses him, then goes up his cheek, up to his sensitive ear. Leona meekly bows his head to let himself be cuddled. For once, in the middle of the night, with you, he can afford it.

You still love him, it's a relief. A relief that deserves his invaluable commitment, not to make you leave.

[bravetimetravellingaussie]

And it feels like home

Chapter 2

Summary: Peter Parker makes a friend

Warnings: foul language, mention of injury? Not graphic or anything though

Again, possible spoilers for Spider-man: No Way Home

Days blur together when each day is the same, when there is no one you can share those days with, but unlike his coworker, who'd been stuck in a loop of shock, Peter's brain was finally knocked out of the loop.

For the past couple of months all that had really brought Peter joy was getting into bed and enjoying his few hours of peace, any inner turmoil didn't have a chance to keep him up at night when he was a second away from nodding off at all time. He'd been walking around a zombie for a while now, avoiding everything by filling his time and pushing himself to the limit and beyond, but now he felt something different, something good, even if it was just the itch of curiosity in the back of his head.

It was something.

This strange man with the weird costume and the many, many wounds, which he seemed completely unperturbed by, was a walking question mark, a puzzle to solve. Peter had forgotten how much he loved a good puzzle, how good it felt to scratch that itch of curiosity by getting answers.

When Peter put on his suit that night, he didn't even think about the possibility of throwing some punches, all he could think about was how he was going to find the man in red.

The temporary lack of bone deep emotional anguish and the replacement of exhaustion with excitement should have been enough warning for Peter that something was going to go wrong.

Peter had barely just swung out of his apartment when he ran out of web. A street light broke his fall. It also broke one of his ribs.

All of a sudden he was lying on his back staring at a starless sky and wishing he could stay like that forever. He couldn't hold his breathe forever though, and even though he tried to move as slowly as possible he felt a stab of pain in his chest.

Shit.

Peter gritted his teeth and felt his eyes welling with tears. Pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic. Every part of him was tense with burning hot rage. I am motherfucking spider-man, I have a job to do and-

The anger faded and all that was left was pain and tears. I am Peter Parker and I want answers. Peter sobbed quietly as he felt the pain, the pain he'd been feeling a long time now. There are so many answers I will never get but goddammit I am going to get this answer if it fucking kills me.

Peter took a deep breath, a mistake really. He waited a minute for the pain to die down before slowly getting up on his feet. He leaned against the lamppost and held out an arm to hail a taxi.

Once inside Peter slumped in his seat.

"Where to-" The driver glanced back at his new passenger.

"Take me to [insert street name here] or I'll-"

"No need for that! I'm a big fan of your work, spider-man," the taxi driver said with a smile, offering Peter a handshake, an offer Peter accepted. "My name is Dopinder."

"Nice to meet you, Dopinder." Peter felt a surge of something other than pain in his chest. It felt good.

"I'm happy to offer my services as an amateur mercenary to you any time, Mr spider-man, but I have to ask, why are we going to a high school?" Dopinder asked as he drove away from the curb.

"I uh," Peter hesitated for a second before giving up with the scepticism, he was too tired and lonely to refuse a chance to talk to someone. God knows it had been too long since the last time he'd had an honest conversation with someone. "I borrow their lab supplies sometimes. To make my web fluid."

"Ohh, so you don't make it naturally?"

"I mean I don't, I used to know a guy who did though."

"Right."

Dopinder tapped the steering wheel in time with the music playing on the radio.

"So what inspired the spider theme?"

"I got bit by a spider?"

"Oh." Dopinder was quiet for a bit, as if in thought. "My cousin got bitten by a spider once. It was one of the happiest days of my life."

"O-oh, okay."

The rest of the drive was quiet and Peter felt only mildly awkward.

"We are here, that'll be-"

"Yeah, I have no money."

Dopinder nodded.

"Somebody needs to start giving superheroes decent pockets in their super suits," he said with the tired tone of someone who encountered this problem frequently.

"No, I just- I wish I could pay you but I literally don't have any money." A little sheepishly, Peter added, "I was going to threaten you to take me here, and then run off."

Dopinder shifted in his seat to look at Peter. "I've always wanted to know what it feels like to fly."

"I'm a bit injured right now, but next time I see you I'll give you a ride spider-man style, does that sound good?"

"Yes."

"Well then, it was nice meeting you, Dopinder." Peter carefully got out of the car, wincing slightly at the movement.

"Anything else I can help you with? I've always wanted to break into a building under the cover of darkness."

"I'll be alright, thanks." Peter chuckled slightly. "Unless of course you know a guy who wears red leather and seems to be immune to pain."

"Oh. You mean Mr Pool?"

[thenadnerb02]

Inside Out Emotions Theory

I just spent some time at Disneyland, and after riding the Emotional Whirlwind I started thinking about Inside Out and its upcoming sequel.

For anyone who doesn’t know, Inside Out 2 will involve Riley suddenly gaining new emotions now that she’s a teenager: Anxiety, Embarrassment, Envy, and Ennui.

Now, I know I’m not the first one to point this out, but these new emotions don’t exactly sound like they’d be fully distinct from the main 5, do they?

Let’s start by looking at the dictionary definitions of these new emotions:

There's some overlap, isn't there?

The way I see it:

Envy involves Anger and Disgust

Fear is inextricably baked into Embarrassment

Anxiety has shades of Fear, Sadness, and (from my personal experience) a little bit of Disgust in a self-deprecating way

Ennui may involve Sadness as well as Disgust at life, but it’s a bit different than the other three (I’ll get to that later)

Anyway, I think I may have mentally stumbled upon what could potentially be the big reveal of Inside Out 2 – the five main emotions directly, albeit unknowingly, influence the actions of the four new ones.

We can even see this demonstrated in the teaser! All five of them are freaked out, so naturally Anxiety is running at peak performance. At a different time, she might not be as anxiety-ridden as she is here.

Therefore, these new emotions have all previously existed on some level, they’re just physically manifesting for the first time.

Embarrassment is the most prominent one — that’s experienced by people of all ages and Riley is no exception. It’s explicitly shown when she interacts with her parents…

Additionally, the emotions react to her introducing herself in school as if it’s an embarrassing moment, and Fear’s tiny outburst beforehand really seems like an anxiety attack.

Riley definitely shows envy when Meg tells her she’s been replaced on the hockey team back in Minnesota, with the exact combo I mentioned earlier (Anger & Disgust) contributing to that reaction.

And as for ennui, that honestly just became her default state when Joy, Sadness, the core memories were gone.

Really, the multicolored memories were just the first step toward these multifaceted emotions manifesting. And who’s to say these four will be the only ones? Joy and Sadness could theoretically combine into Ambivalence, or Anger and Fear into Stress, etc.

And for a movie that already raises in-universe questions on whether or not free will fully exists, it would add a whole new layer of existential dread if some of the emotions themselves aren't fully in control of themselves either.

(Is now a good time to mention how the emotions themselves experience emotions too? Joy’s utter despair in the Memory Dump is the most blatant example but there are some other, more subtle ones, like Fear displaying disgust while on Dream Duty.

But honestly, digging into the emotions’ emotions is opening up a can of worms I’m not ready for right now, so I’ll just end that "train of thought" here.)

Of course, I could be completely wrong about all of this, and after June 14 this post will look like Charlie Kelly came up with it.

But regardless of whether I’m right or not, one thing I can guarantee is that this influx of negative(ish) emotions will single Joy out from the rest even more…

At least until Riley gets a few years older and Joy finds herself influencing a new emotion…

(Please share this post and comment on it. I really wanna know what everyone thinks!)

Continued Here

[gaysindistress]

Fine Line

summary: Forgetting his first love is easier said than done as memories of his best girl are the only things that Steve thinks about during the days leading up to his wedding. Not once did he think of Peggy even as she walked down the aisle or when they were pronounced husband and wife or when she refused to let him go throughout the celebrations. He hoped that with time she would leave his every waking thought but time would prove to be a cruel mistress and would not grant him such luxuries. A decade and one failed marriage later, she still hasn’t left his mind.

pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

warnings: angst, the feels

word count: 3.3k 

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom​

Dial Drunk - part 2 & Cocaine Jesus - part 3

a/n: SURPRISE! I’m not fully back but I missed you guys so I’m giving you Fine Line early. Everything else will resume on 7/7 like planned. Also I’m torn between making this a series or keeping it as a one shot. What are y’all thinking? 

masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Falling in love was supposed to be the greatest accomplishment for a person. The rush of emotion, the butterflies in one’s stomach, the flush when one’s lover is near, the feeling of complete joy and fulfillment. Falling in love was supposed to be the happiest moment in one’s life. It’s meant to last forever, the eternity that a couple walks on this earth. It’s meant to persevere through any and all hardships that life throws in their way and strengthen the bond they share. Love, true love in its purest form, is meant to be the greatest healing force that nature has to offer and will provide a couple with an endless supply of cures for any ailment. Love is the one thing that people seek out the most in any and all forms but the love that is found in the arms of a lover is the most sought-after. Love is meant to be a good thing until it is not. 

When love sours and turns into resentment, hatred, pain, and angst, it destroys. It becomes the ruination of once strong and powerful people. It becomes a weakness that anyone can expose, one that anyone can exploit when needed. When love fades away into nothingness, the hole that is left is permanent. It will never be filled, will never shrink, will never heal. The hole that loves leaves is a stark reminder of what was meant to be and what actually happened. It’s filled with what-ifs and theories of what could’ve been, questions left unanswered and will continue to go unanswered. When love is lost, the two lovers change and something new becomes of them. In the case of Steve Rogers, an entirely new man was forged from the fires of lost love. 

At barely 22, he was faced with a decision he’d hoped would never come. Being the son of a crime boss and the natural next pick to lead, it was his duty to pick a suitable partner to support him when his time came. Of course, some standards and stipulations accompanied his decision but he quickly learned that there was a predetermined pick already in place. He had no choice, no free will to decide his own future, and with that, he would have to leave behind the love he had known since they were children. 

“You can’t be serious, Dad,” Steve’s hands shook with anger as he held back the urge to smash something, anything at all. 

“The Carters are very good friends of ours and Peggy is a sweet girl. She’ll make for a lovely wife,” Joseph Rogers, the current leader of the Rogers crime syndicate, explains while not batting an eye at his son’s aggression and continues to eat the roast his wife made. 

“You can’t just force me into this. Mom,” he turns to Sarah who is sitting quietly at the kitchen table, “please there has to be something else, anything else.”

She only shakes her head, eyes downcast on the dark wood of the table where they’d been eating dinner as a family moments ago. Joseph spares her a very brief glance to ensure that she isn’t going to give in to her son’s pleas for help. 

“What’s done is done. You will marry Peggy Carter at the end of the week and that is the end of this conversation. I do not want to hear another word about it, am I clear?” The authority in his tone forces both his wife and son into a quick nod and ‘yes sir’ as the only other sounds that fill the room are those of him cutting the meat on his plate. 

Another stern look from his father has Steve returning to his seat but not without one last question, “What about…”

Joseph slams his hand on the table, rattling nearly everything and everyone as he cuts Steve off, “I said not another word and as for that girl, you will break it off and forget about her.”

Easier said than done as the thought of his best girl and leaving her are the only things that he thinks about during the days leading up to his wedding. Not once did he think of Peggy even as she walked down the aisle of the grand catholic church in her expensive white gown or when he briefly pressed his lips against hers as they were pronounced husband and wife or when she refused to let him go throughout the celebrations. Not once did Steve stop thinking of his true beloved his entire wedding day or night when he begrudgingly commenced their marriage. He hoped that with time she would leave his every waking thought but time would prove to be a cruel mistress and would not grant him such luxuries. 

She inhabited every corner of his mind for the next 15 years and nothing could shake the memory of her tear-stricken face when he told her that they were done. To spare her the real pain of the truth, he lied and said that he had been seeing Peggy the entire time they were together. Whether or not a cheating revelation was really better than an arranged marriage was lost on him and he regretted every word the moment they slipped out. Of course, she hadn’t believed him, he would never do something so horrible as cheating on her. She knew him better than that, she knew him better than he knew himself so lying to her would never be successful. Yet she accepted it and didn’t pry any further, knowing that if he was lying, there was clearly something far worse happening. 

He watched all love drain from her face and tears wet her skin when the lies filled her head. Everything they had built together over the last year had been ruined with two sentences; It’s over. I’ve been cheating on you with Peggy and we’re getting married. 

15 years later and only God knows he would be able to make up for those lost years and cruel parting words. Rain storms around him and soaked his thick black outer coat as he stands in front of the blue door. The thunder drowns out the sound of his blood pulsing in his ears as nerves start to take over him. Should he really be here? Would she open the door for him? Hell did she even live here anymore? All sorts of questions scatter any rational thought he has. However lucky for him, the door opens and reveals her standing there and everything completely leaves his brain at the sight. 

“What are you doing here?” her voice is calloused and devoid of all emotion as she stares up at him. 

“H… Hi,” he stutters, his chest constricting as it works to breathe. In and out, in and out. 

“What are you doing here?” she repeats. 

“Can I come in?”

“It depends. Is someone dead or are you just here to reminisce?”

His hand strays from his pocket to scratch the back of his neck, an old nervous habit his father had tried to break for years. 

“Either way, I don’t want you here so leave,” she says, going to close the door on him and everything that might blossom from this moment but the stray hand blocks that from happening. 

“Please, I just want to talk.”

“No. Just go,” she tries again to push on the wood alas she is no match for the strength he has built up over the years and she lets out a defeated sigh. 

“5 minutes. That’s all I ask.”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

The smile she had only dreamt of for years finally becomes real again as it stretches across his short stubble covered face, “Not a chance in hell, honey.”

The woman steps back but only enough for him to squeeze past and invade her no longer safe space. She knew when the sleek silver car pulled up that any sense of safety would go. His showing up at her front door made her a target for any and all of his enemies after she’d spent years trying to erase any memory or sign of him from her life. 

He glances around the room, taking in every detail it had to offer from the various books that lined the brick walls to the pictures of family and friends on the countertops. One, in particular, halts him. It’s a small polaroid from the first night they’d since each other since childhood tucked into the corner of a mirror that’s amidst the books. In it are two much younger versions of them smiling drunkenly with fireworks in the background. 

It had been the fourth of July the year he moved back from college. Sarah, his mother, insisted that they throw a late welcome home of July party since this was the first time in four years he had been back. The college had been an escape from the greed and foulness of his father’s world but his tranquility had to be shattered when he was presented with the prophecy of him taking the Rogers family business. Sure he knew it was going to happen but being faced with the reality of it proved to be too much for him. He’d spent the afternoon sneaking away to take shots in between his beers because he needed to be drunk to not remember a thing to survive this night. 

It was probably around the 5th secret shot when his sweet honey had shown up, stumbling upon him looking for the bathroom. There she stood in her cutoff Levi shorts and white tank top that showed off the red bikini top she’d worn to the lake earlier. He should’ve heard her coming down the hallway given that she was wearing flip-flops but the deafening effect of the alcohol must’ve kicked in. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she stutters, frozen with embarrassment, “I’m sorry but where is the bathroom?”

Coughing from nearly choking on his shot, he wipes at his mouth both physically and metaphorically, “Um it’s across the hall.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she whispers while closing the door. 

“Wait how do you know my name?” his voice halts her and she cringes when she hears it. 

“Oh uh… I guess you don’t recognize me,” she says, pushing her hair back, “I’m Y/N L/N.”

“Oh, OH,” it suddenly all clicks into place and he feels immensely guilty for all of the thoughts that had run through his head, “I should’ve known. It’s been uh… a crazy week.” “It’s all good. I’m sure your parents have paraded you around like a circus animal. Ya know, the prodigal son returns and all,” the sound of far-off laughter has her checking over her shoulder, “Anyways I should go. It was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah it was nice seeing you too,” he trails off, too caught up gawking at how short her cutoffs were and how if anyone dared to look her way, he’d been cut their eyes out. 

He’d made it his mission that night to watch over her and make sure that no one got close to her. Of course, this was unbeknownst to her and any attractive guy that showed up quickly disappeared, refusing to even go near her. About 4 guys in, she’d spotted the reason for her bad luck leaning against the sliding glass door with his arms crossed over his chest. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, she could tell by the way his jaw was set that his death glare had scared off any and all men that approached her. 

“Is there a reason why you’re ruining my chances at finding a guy?” she asked him as she came to stand at his side. 

He briefly glanced at her from the corner of his eye before readjusting his arms tighter over his chest, straining his white button-down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally settled on but she doesn’t buy it for a second. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing and I want to know why.”

“And what do you think I’m doing?” “Being a bitch and not asking me out yourself so you’re resorting to giving everyone the stare-down.”

He scoffed at the suggestion but deep down he knew that she was right.

“The fact that you didn’t even try and defend yourself proves I’m right so are you going to man up or pout?”

“I’m not pouting,” he tried to defend himself but it was too late and she gives him an annoyed look, “Want to go inside?”

She pushed off the door, took his hand in hers, and dragged him inside, “I thought you’d never ask.”

She clears her throat, drawing his attention back to the present and he hesitantly looks at her through the mirror. She doesn’t look exactly pleased that he had seen the last photo she’d held onto but she doesn’t let her bothered attitude show and gestures for him to sit at the kitchen island. 

“Why are you here?” she asks him while getting things to make iced coffee. “I wanted to see how you were,” he lies, taking a seat in the tall wicker chair she’d thrifted a few months before. 

“You had 15 years to do that. Why are you really here?”

“We got divorced.”

She freezes for a moment but continues to make herself a cup and offers him one. He shakes his head, awaiting her response. 

“Oh?” is all that comes out of her as the rain drones on outside. 

“It had been a long time coming.”

“I’m sorry,” her body language tells another story that is the opposite of her words. The indifference is clear as she passes him a cup made to his exact preference anyways. Feeling his bright blue eyes burning holes into her skull, her own eyes flicker up and meet his, “You can’t expect me to care. You cheated on me with her and dumped me the same week you married her.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t expect you to feel bad for me,” he says, taking the cup from her hands. 

“But here you are; showing up at my house and begging me to open the door to what? Talk? Talk about what? You didn’t come here just to tell me that so what is it?” she pries, leaning against the sink behind her to keep as much distance as she can between them. 

He takes a sip and savors the thought that she absentmindedly put into it before answering her question, “I wanted to set things straight.”

She merely raises an eyebrow but allows him to keep talking. 

“My dad arranged my marriage to Peggy and forced me to break it off with you. It was… I never…. I never cheated on you.”

Eyeing him from her place, she takes a long drink from her cup to think over his revelation. Half of her laughs at him and how stupid he must be if he thinks she is really going to believe that. The other part tenses at the idea that maybe they could have been together after all if they had run away like they planned. 

“I lied because I thought it would be easier than telling the truth but it made everything worse and I’m sorry, honey.” 

“Sorry doesn’t change anything regardless if you lied or not. Now you’ve said what you needed to, so leave,” she tells him, pointing at the door with the cup in her hand. He can see the scar on her hand from when she broke through a window after she’d locked herself out trying to sneak back in. A smile breaks onto his face which frustrates her even more. 

“Really, Steve, you need to go.”

“Is this it? Is this how it ends?”

“Are you being serious right now?”

He holds up his left hand in his defense and the carved-out space where his wedding band once sat causes her breath to hitch slightly. 

“I’ve spent the last 15 years thinking about YOU and what we could’ve had. You can’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind at least once?”

She drops her gaze to her cup, unable to look at him and the anguish clear on his beautiful features, “What does it matter? It didn’t happen. You got your perfect life and I had to make my own way.”

“You were always a part of what I wanted my life to look like and what I got with Peggy was all fake. I never wanted her or any of it for a second, I just wanted you,” the lull of his voice tempts her to look up again but if she does that, she’ll break. She can only imagine the way his brows pull together from stress or how his jaw clenches to stop the emotions from overtaking his senses. She can only imagine how he’d slowly blink with that sad smile of his when she would make eye contact or how he’d lower his voice to say her name in the softest tone he could manage. 

“Go.”

“Honey please look at me.”

“Go,” she tries a little louder, her grip on the cup growing tighter as she struggles to keep her composure.

“Look at me first.”

“Go,” she says one more time, “Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go” 

Each go grows more and more desperate as her composure slips away from her and everything she’s suppressed from the night he left comes rushing to the surface as lava does when its volcano starts to erupt. The cup shatters under her death grip, sending pieces of glass and iced coffee everywhere. Neither of them flinch at the sound, having grown used to much worse noises thanks to his business. However, the dam within breaks, and tears slip down her nose as she spaces out on the wreckage of her anger at her feet. Steve quietly stands from the island and gathers her into his arms, pulling her away from the mess on the floor. She doesn’t fight it, wrapping her arms around his bicep as she cries into it. The comforting words he whispers into her hair go unheard but she can feel the rumble of his voice in her chest and that provides all the comfort her body craves. 

Feelings of fulfillment and joy fill him as he finally holds her in his arms again but it doesn’t last long when she starts to speak. 

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” He pulls away a little to look down at her, “I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she repeats for the third time, “Things were different when we were kids but we’re grown now and too much has happened. You’ve done too much, I’ve done too much for us to be together. This won’t work.”

“We weren’t kids though,” disbelief fills his voice with uncertainty causing it to wobble. 

“Yes we are,” she persists, “You were 22 and I was barely 18. We were stupid to think it was anything more than a fling.”

“A fling?” he drops his arms from her and takes a staggered step back as if she shoved him. 

She turns her back to him to spare herself the look of utter hurt he wears, “Please. Just go.”

Receding footsteps mix in with the rain as he does what she asked and leaves. Her front door slams shut and the shutter shakes the house as well as her. Dropping down to her knees on the sticky floor, the tears fall now like a tidal wave and the sobs rack through her body as she blindly tries to clean up the glass shards. 

Love is not meant to feel this way.

[love-and-deepspace-fanfic]

Self-narrative of Xavier - Lumiere Myth

I have just finished Lumiere myth, and my mind exploded with #delulu again that I have to share with you all. hope you enjoy this little self-narrative from the jelly jelly #Xavier. I’m looking forward to your feedback as it’s the first time I write about Xavier as well!

What happens if you experience Lumiere Myth through Xavier's eyes?

The Self-Narrative of Xavier Lumiere Myth ******************************

When I first received the call from the director about the upcoming movie “Dawn Apocalypse,” which is based on Lumiere’s biography, I was momentarily stunned, thinking I might have been found out. It wasn't until they mentioned they just wanted my advice on techniques for fighting the Wanderers that I could breathe a sigh of relief. But this also made me immediately think of inviting you. Just the thought of being with you everywhere, even while working on set, excited me. So, I accepted the request on one condition: I wanted you to join as my manager and companion.

-—————————————————

The filming had been going on for a few days, but today was your first day on set, so I had to prepare a surprise for you. Watching you search for me around the set made me chuckle and want to tease you a bit. So, I quickly grabbed the Lemonette monster prop and told you that this was the role you needed to play. Seeing your innocent face believing me without question made me want to pinch your cheeks endlessly. By the time you realized my prank, I had already collected enough joy and adorable pictures of you.

-————————————————-

The weather on set was worsening, giving me an uneasy feeling. So, I contacted Jenna, suggesting that everyone should be more vigilant by forming groups to respond promptly in case of any emergencies. When Jenna asked if I wanted you to accompany me, I hesitated. The scope of the attack was still unknown, and the perpetrator hadn't been identified, so I couldn't let you come with me. With your intelligence and boldness, you'd choose to follow me without hesitation. That's why I didn't want you in the same group, especially in such dangerous times. I declined Jenna’s suggestion and insisted on acting independently. This was just a precaution, and I hoped for the best.

-————————————————

The worst happened sooner than expected. After the Wanderers appeared on set, I suspected the culprit was behind the scenes and spent the next two days tracking clues and dealing with minor monsters to calm things down. I knew you would be worried and want explanations when you didn't see me for two days. But it's not that I don't want to confide in you; I just don't want you involved in danger. With your reckless nature, like mine, you'd do something that I might regret forever. Just like long ago...

That's why when I met you at the prop room, I had no better excuse than to pretend nothing had happened. You know I'm not good at hiding serious matters from you. Sometimes I wish you were as naive as when I tease you, but you are who you are, the one I love, so I can only sigh and accept it.

Perhaps out of anger, when you pulled me into the prop room, you immediately brought out the Lumiere mask, insisting I wear it for you. Every time I see that mask, it reminds me of the old "embarrassing" times. But if you want me to wear it, then you should pay a "price" first, shouldn't you?

-—————————————————-

I was caught by Jasper’s henchmen while spying on their plans. Talk about bad luck. It felt like I got a taste of my own medicine dealing with people who speak politely but act ruthlessly, much like myself.

While pondering my next move, I heard a familiar motorcycle sound, hoping it was just my imagination. But when I saw you speeding towards me and reaching out to grab me, I couldn't describe my emotions. Surprise? Shock? Fear? I wasn't sure. The only thing I knew was that I had to ask how you found me. When I learned that you had Jeremiah install a tracking device in my jacket two days ago, the first thing I wanted to do was give that idle troublemaker a piece of my mind.

But maybe I'll let it slide this time because, thanks to his silly act, I owe you one.

With no time for a proper conversation due to the urgent danger, I had to guide you to my “secret” hideout, my “temporary home” before I met you.

I can't describe how I felt bringing you here. It was like you were seeing a part of me you never knew, filled with regrets and restlessness.

I know you have many questions, but forgive me, I don’t have the courage to answer now. There's so much I need to handle before I can tell you everything. For now, I need to "rest" in the Sleepen Pod.

I'm sorry for misleading you, and I know you noticed. But you are so forgiving and generous with me. Even knowing I was lying, you still chose to follow my lead. I apologize again, but let me rest for a moment…my eyes can’t take it anymore…

-———————————————-

When I woke up, the first thing greeting me wasn’t your worried face but the alarm bell signaling a Wanderer’s appearance. The moment I didn't see you, I knew where you were, and it terrified me.

Not again...

In my panic, I used all my strength to teleport, knowing it would harm my body and powers.

But isn’t the fastest speed supposed to be the speed of light? If I can’t reach you in time, what good is this light power?

When I arrived, I saw a scene of destruction. People crying, Wanderers roaring, everything was a hindrance as I hadn’t found you yet. Until I saw a small figure holding a boy and about to be attacked by a Wanderer, I acted instinctively.

Wearing the mask from 14 years ago, let me become Lumiere once more to appear before you, be your white knight, and protect you from danger.

-————————————————

After confirming your safety, I felt immense relief mixed with anger. But when I saw your radiant smile, telling me how lucky you were to be saved by Lumiere twice, all my worries disappeared. You know, I'm the one who feels blessed to meet you again, more than twice.

-————————————————-

To be honest, even though I accepted to wear Lumiere’s embarrassing cloak without caring about what others think, just to save you in time, it doesn’t mean I want to wear it again.

Who came up with the bizarre idea that knights should wear flashy clothes to save people? I can’t understand it!

Seeing the box of Lumiere’s quirky items you brought made me want to run away.

But your pouty, puppy-eyed face leaves me helpless.

Well, if you’re going to shoot, you might as well follow through.

But at least when I'm the one wearing it, you should say Xavier is the handsome one, not Lumiere. What does he have that I don’t?

When you talk about Lumiere, your eyes sparkle, but when it’s about me, it’s all cruelty and harshness?

You’ve underestimated me.

Just wait for tonight.

I won’t let you go until I hear the most satisfying answer.

That the only one you choose.

Is Xavier.

[gcthvile]

A shoulder to lean on

Pairing: Rei Stark x Peter Parker

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: When Rei Stark loses his beloved mother to illness, he shuts down completely - withdrawing from school, friends, and the outside world. Tormented by his grief and loss, Rei walls himself off behind closed doors, shutting even his best friend Peter Parker out of his spiral into despair.

warnings: none

When his mother first fell ill, Rei threw himself into finding a cure. He spent every waking moment in the lab, searching for anything that could help her. But as her condition deteriorated, so did his hope.

The day she slipped away was the day everything went dark. Rei stumbled home in a daze, collapsing at her bedside. He didn't move for hours, even as the medics came to take her away. His world had ended.

In the following days, FRIDAY tried to get him to eat, sleep, see others—to take care of himself. But Rei was non-responsive. He just sat numbed by grief, replying only in monosyllables.

When Peter came by that first week, worried but wanting to comfort his friend, all FRIDAY would say was that Rei wasn't accepting visitors. Peter left dejected, anxiety growing by the day with no word from Rei.

The weeks dragged on and Rei faded further. He stopped leaving his room, stopped going to classes or returning calls and texts. His father stopped by in between missions, but Rei barely acknowledged him. Numbness was his only escape from the unrelenting pain.

Tony entered Rei's darkened room without knocking, concern etched on his face. "Rei, we need to talk."

Rei didn't look up from where he sat huddled in the corner. "Go away," he muttered.

But Tony stood firm. "I can't do that, kid. It's been over a month and you're not getting any better. You have to start taking care of yourself."

"What's the point?" said Rei flatly. "Nothing matters anymore."

Tony's voice rose in frustration. "Of course it matters! Your life matters, your future - do you think your mother would want to see you wasting away like this?"

Rei flinched at the mention of his mother but still didn't look up. "Don't pretend you understand. You never loved anyone like I loved her."

"Maybe not," snapped Tony. "But I'm your father and it's killing me to see you doing this to yourself! If you don't start eating, sleeping, acting like a human again, I'll have no choice but to commit you for treatment."

That got Rei's attention. His head shot up, eyes blazing with anger through his grief. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I will if it saves your life!" countered Tony. "You're not the only one who lost her, Rei. Please, just let me help you." His voice cracked with emotion.

Rei hesitated, some of the fight draining from him at the raw concern in his father's eyes. Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. I'll...I'll try. For you." Tony sagged in relief. "Thank you. It's a start." Rei knew he had to pull himself back to functioning, even just for appearances. But internally, he still felt hollow. Going through the motions of school brought him no relief or joy.

Seeing Peter's familiar face in the crowd was almost too much. Guilt weighed on him for worrying his friend for so long with no contact. Yet he never dared to approach.

The walk through the halls to class was agonizing. Rei felt every eye on him as whispers and stares followed in his wake. He hunched into himself, hoping to disappear while also wishing for a reason to lash out.

Inside the classroom was even worse. All the familiar faces looked at him with shared sadness and unasked questions. He could practically hear their thoughts: Was he okay? What happened? How could they help?

But no one dared approach, sensing his fragile state. Good—he wasn't ready for their pity or platitudes yet. Just being there amongst them all felt oppressive, reminding him of the life he had before...before.

Rei took his seat and stared numbly at his desk, tuning out the review lecture he'd already long since learned. His gaze drifted unseeing as vacant memories played on repeat in his head: lazy afternoons in the lab with his mom, her laugh, the way her eyes would crinkle at the corners...

A sting started behind his eyes but he blinked it back furiously. No more tears—he was done with that. From then on it was just...nothing. Blessed numbness to get him through each endless day.

When the bell finally freed him, Rei rushed from the room, wanting only to be alone. To escape back into the dark sanctuary of his mind where he didn't have to feel anything anymore.

In the empty corridor, Peter stood firm, hands on his hips as Rei tried to brush past.

"Oh no you don't," said Peter fiercely. "You're not avoiding this anymore. What's going on with you?"

Rei kept walking. "Nothing. Leave me alone."

Peter grabbed his arm, spinning him around. "That's bullshit and you know it! You disappear for over a month without a word and then show up looking like a corpse? Tell me what's wrong, Rei."

Rei wrenched his arm free. "It's none of your business!"

"The hell it isn't!" cried Peter. "I care about you, you idiot! I've been worried sick!"

"Well don't bother," snapped Rei. "No one can help me, okay? Just stay out of it!"

"Not a chance," growled Peter. "Not until you talk to me. You're my best friend - please, let me in."

His voice cracked with frustration and concern, eyes begging Rei to drop his walls. Rei faltered under that earnest gaze, feeling his resolve crumble, but all he could do was snap at his friend at the moment, "It's my mom, okay?! She died, Peter. She fucking died. And I couldn't save her." Rei's voice broke on the last words as fresh tears rose.

Instantly Peter's anger dissolved into sympathy. "Oh Rei, I'm so sorry." He pulled the other boy into a hug as Rei finally lost the battle and began to sob.

He held Rei tight, letting him grieve. "You don't have to do this alone," he murmured. "I'm here for you, always."

Rei gripped the back of Peter's shirt tightly as he cried, weeks of pent up grief pouring out of him. It felt like he was drowning in sorrow, but Peter's solid presence kept him tethered.

When the sobs finally subsided, Rei pulled back just enough to wipe his damp cheeks. Peter's hands moved to rub comforting circles on his back.

"I'm sorry," Rei mumbled, raw from emotion. "For....For shutting you out or whatever."

Peter chuckled softly and shook his head. "Don't apologize. I get why you did it, but that's over now, okay? No more shutting me out."

Rei nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He felt strangely lighter now that Peter knew his burden. But the memory of his loss was still fresh.

As if sensing his need for distraction, Peter took his hand gently. "Come on, let's go get some fresh air. Think you can handle the rest of the day?"

Rei hesitated, then nodded again. With Peter by his side, maybe facing the world wouldn't be so hard.

They walked in companionable silence, hands clasped tight between them. For the first time in weeks, rays of hope broke through Rei's storm clouds. He wasn't alone—and with Peter's support, maybe he could learn to heal.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!

@jackiequick @mallowbee4 @blueboirick @meiramel @missstrawbs2001 @gaminggirlsstuff

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Several people have been kind enough to let me publish their thoughts on fandom, community, and queerness to celebrate Pride in the Library. Today's piece comes from @tackytigerfic.

Thank you so much to my lovely friend thedrarrylibrarian for opening up this discussion. The thing I would like to talk about today is the way fandom led me to examine my identity and helped me navigate the shift between shame and peace. My journey to acknowledging and exploring my queerness has not always been a joyful one.

I came to the realisation quite late in life. I was in my late 30s before I realised that what I felt about my body was not just a thing that all other people go through. I had lived for my entire lifetime, for as long as I can remember, not just wishing but knowing that my body was meant to be different to how it is. It sounds silly, but it had never occurred to me to question those feelings, or to see myself as queer or trans or non-binary (I'm still not entirely sure how I would term it—I use genderqueer for myself, though nothing feels quite right and I suspect never will). I did spend a year as a child trying to "pass" as a boy (cropping my hair, wearing clothes from the boy's section in the shops, and so on), and as a teen and young adult I was part of a group of queer friends, many of whom were gender non-conforming, so I learned early on that I don't believe that there is any right or wrong way to look like, act like, or be a woman or man. But for some reason, it never occurred to me that the "should have been" feeling was something that I could interrogate, and maybe even do something about. I have moved around a lot throughout my life, and in a way my gender identity feels like that; part of my heart is always somewhere else, and I don't think I'll ever feel entirely at home anywhere.

Before joining fandom, I had never had a candid discussion with anyone about gender identity. I had trans friends who all transitioned medically, but my experience didn't feel like theirs. My body was just something I had to get on with. It was bearable. It didn't feel right, but I was used to feeling not quite right in lots of ways (I was a very emotional child who has grown into a melodramatic adult, what can I say!). It was only through meeting and speaking to all my candid, open, generous trans and non-binary fandom friends that I realised that perhaps my gender identity was something to be addressed. Initially it caused me a lot of grief. I had heard of queer joy and gender euphoria, but my realisation and acknowledgement brought a lot of pain. I felt stupid and ashamed—not of my queerness, not at all! But of the fact that I hadn't realised. I felt like I had cheated myself of my youth. Intellectually I knew that there is no age limit to coming out, but for me it felt like an impossible step to take. I raged at myself. I cried bitter tears at shows like Heartstopper, imagining what my life might have been like had I had that sort of representation as a young person. The first time I changed my pronouns in my tumblr bio, I had to log off and cry. It all felt huge, unmanageable.

Fandom friends got me through. They listened to my sadness, never undermined me, gently guided me through, shared their own experiences so readily and with so much candour and generosity that it gave me hope. Being so immersed in an online space where people's identities are respected and embraced has given me the courage to really look at myself, to know and understand how I feel about my body (and my brain, and my spirit, and whatever else makes a person themself!).

Before I joined fandom, no one had ever asked me my pronouns. Now I have that conversation with people in my offline life too. It's still nerve-wracking for me, but it's getting easier. I have forgiven myself for not understanding myself for so long. I have compassion for my younger self now, instead of anger. And I am very much at peace with my body and identity for the first time in my life, which feels so magical and affirming and, yes, joyous. I got there in the end! That's something to celebrate. And that is thanks to every single one of the people who were there at my side on the journey, the journey that this fandom set me on. And I am very, very glad for that

Thank you, Tacky, for joining me in the Library. I appreciate the reminder that there is no timeline on figuring yourself out, no one way that you have to feel about it. Thank you for joining me for Pride in the Library.

If you want more @tackytigerfic be sure to check out their work on AO3! I reread one of my favorites from them, Silverpoint. I think it's a such an excellent characterization of Harry and Draco, both so in love they can't stand it, and both unable to communicate about it.

🏳️‍🌈 Lots of Love and Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

[ko-existing]

Kodaaa ilysm and thank you for mentioning that even 4dbarbie was limited!!!😭😭ofc I'm really grateful to her and i found most of her posts really helpful, but i didn't agree with some things she said, but i thought that since so many people look up to her like that, then she must be right. I'd like some clarity from you, please🥲

Here is something that 4dbarbie said:

"Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can revise this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. "

Is that true???😭

[this part was written by Koda, main admin]

this isn't even about who runs the account itself or anything and to avoid another "interesting event", we decided to just let someone who is completely new to social media answer this ask and that's Chichi. She had no previous relations to tumblr, twitter or Instagram, only youtube's AV swamis like swami servapriyananda which means she has no idea who "4dbarbie" was and doesn't want to. Chi also doesn't know what the "tumblr version of ND" looks like. She's very disinterested in social media and her way of speaking in real life is usually super short and direct. Like Chen's but even more. She doesn't talk much and mind her own business somewhere next to a cat. If anyone needs an elaboration, just say it, we struggled to get her to finally post something😄

[this was written by Chichi🐙, co-admin]

i was told to form complete sentences

i have questions every reader is able to answer

1. What is the scale's origin?

2. Who decided this: "all of them have to happen for you to have it all" ? Why?

3. How do you know you're experiencing an emotion?

4. What is joy? Fear? Anger?

5. Who keeps record of whether every emotion happened or not?

6. Who goes through them?

you can answer them for yourself or share // thank you

- 🐙

[eflen-n-reegee]

Quiet Time (An “Inside Out 2” Regression Fic)

After the events of Inside Out 2, Sadness needs a regression day. Suggested by Anon. No major spoilers, but under the cut until Inside Out 2 has been out longer.

~~~~~~~~

Sadness knew, from the moment she woke up, that this was a regression day.

She wasn’t surprised; after the stress of the new emotions joining Headquarters and all the drama Riley had gone through, they were ALL due to regress. She was simply the first to slip.

Sadness stretched and got out of her bed, shuffling slowly across the floor. The other emotions were already at the console, running Riley through her morning routine.

“Hey Sadness!” Joy called, then blinked. “You doing okay?”

Sadness pinched her thumb and forefinger together.

“Oh, you’re small, huh? Fear, can you hang out with Sadness today?”

“Sure,” he said, walking towards the regressed emotion. He jumped with surprise when Anxiety ran between them.

“Uh, I’m sorry, what exactly is going on? Is she okay? Are you sick?” she asked, turning suddenly to Sadness. “Can we GET sick?”

Disgust frowned slightly. “You guys don’t know about regression? Riley’s been doing it for two years.”

Ennui shrugged. “We never heard about the emotions doing it.”

“WE get to do it too?!” Envy exclaimed excitedly. “That’s AWESOME!”

Anxiety and Envy began to bombard Sadness with questions - “How does it work?” “How do you know?” “Do you change?” - but Anger stepped in front of them.

“Cool it!” he ordered sternly. “WE can tell you about it, but SHE needs some space.”

Anxiety cringed. “Oh, sorry, Sadness! Our bad.”

Sadness smiled slightly, then took Fear’s hand, gently pulling him towards their living quarters.

“Okay!” she heard Joy saying. “Who’s got questions?”

~

In their shared bedroom, Sadness flopped down on the floor and looked to Fear expectantly.

He crouched down, meeting her eyes. “Twenty question time, right? Are you hungry?”

Sadness thought for a moment, contemplating how she felt, then shook her head.

“Are you thirsty?”

Now she nodded.

“Will you be okay by yourself while I make you a bottle?”

Another nod. Sadness flopped onto her back, staring straight up.

Since Riley had started regressing, they’d added some more childish touches to their living areas. One of them was an art piece Disgust designed, a giant mobile made of glass and beads and little metal trinkets. It hung from the ceiling, casting shadows and light spots, spinning slowly. Sadness watched in silent fascination, picking out shapes and then losing them again.

“Sadness?”

She looked up, smiling slightly as Fear handed her a bottle filled with strawberry milk. She drank it gratefully, humming slightly to herself. When she finished, she handed it back.

“Good job. Now, is there anything else you need?”

Sadness thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“Alright, then let’s figure out wants. What sounds like fun? A movie?”

Sadness shook her head again.

“Want to line up the toys?”

A third ‘no’.

“How about a puzzle?”

Now she nodded, making grabby hands.

Fear smiled, going to the toy shelf and pulling out two puzzles. “We have dolphins with a hundred pieces, and jungle animals with five hundred. Which do you-” When he turned, she was already pointing to the jungle puzzle. “Alrighty!”

Fear sat down on the floor beside Sadness, passing her the box. She smiled as she dumped the pieces out, carefully beginning to turn them face up.

“Do you want help?”

Sadness nodded without looking up, and Fear started flipping pieces as well.

~

Four hours and another bottle later, the puzzle was finished.

“You did that fast,” Fear chuckled. “Still feeling okay?”

Sadness nodded and pointed to the door.

“You want to go see how everyone’s doing?”

She nodded, and Fear helped her to her feet.

Everyone turned and smiled when they entered the console room, but Anxiety came running over.

“Hi, Sadness,” she said, her voice much softer than it usually was. “Sorry if I kinda crowded you earlier. You okay?”

Sadness nodded, giving her a small smile.

“Do you wanna sit on the couch? Joy said you like to watch sometimes when you’re regressed.”

Another nod, a brighter smile. Anxiety ran to the couch and gently shoved Ennui over. She groaned loudly but obediently made room for Sadness.

“All good?” Joy asked, grinning at the regressed emotion.

Sadness nodded, and Fear ruffled her hair. “She put together one of the biggest puzzles we have.”

“Cool,” Ennui mumbled, giving Sadness a tiny smile.

“Very cool,” Joy agreed, beaming. “Well, let me catch you both up to speed, Riley got her history test back - aced it, by the way - and-”

Sadness felt her eyes drooping as Joy chattered. She snuggled deeper into the couch, folding her arms around herself.

Suddenly she felt something heavy on top of her, and her eyes flew open. One of their softest blankets was wrapped around her, and Embarrassment was looking at her nervously. Sadness smiled at him and he hurried away, blushing furiously.

Sadness heaved a soft sigh, her eyes shutting once again. She was warm and safe and surrounded by friends. Life was good.

[cherrylng]

Showbiz Interview [STYLE Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

"We grew up with a constant awareness of computers and technology, and I think we have a different attitude toward those things from the generation of Radiohead and others."

Interview and text by Tomokazu Hiroi (first published in Cool Guitar VOL.4) pix Yoshika Horita

On March 1, 2000, Muse held a memorable first concert in Japan at Shibuya's ON AIR EAST. Despite being a brand-new band that had just debuted in September of the previous year, the band's performance was confident and dignified. However, Matthew was still very new when he appeared for the interview, and he seemed a little shy when answering the question. Nevertheless, he calmly and carefully answered our questions, choosing his words carefully. At the time, he still had an innocent expression on his face and a boyishly slender body. I was left with a strong impression that I wondered where his power on stage came from. Incidentally, since this interview was taken for “Cool Guitar,” a guitar playing magazine, some of his comments about effects appeared in the interview.

Picture: Backstage at Summer Sonic in Osaka, 2000.

—First of all, I was surprised at your performance yesterday, not only by your technique, but also by your stage presence, which was far beyond that of a newcomer, and by your magnificent vocal performance. I think this is your first time in Japan, but it must have been a solid experience. Matthew: Thank you. We really enjoyed the gig yesterday. I thought we might be a little intimidated since it was our first gig in Japan, but our fears were quickly dispelled. I had heard that Japanese audiences are quiet…… I felt that way at first. But in the middle to the latter half of the show, they really expressed how much they were enjoying the show, which made it much easier to play.

—I got the impression that the live performance was quite different from the album. What I felt most strongly was the very positive atmosphere of the live show, which is different from that of the album. Matthew: Having been following the 90's for a long time, I think that although the US and the UK are a little different, the characteristic of bands like Marilyn Manson and Radiohead (who represented the 90's) was more of an inward energy, both live and on the album. That kind of music is definitely in our background. So people expect something like that at our shows. But we're hoping to bring more of an outward energy to our live shows. That's been our style since we started playing gigs.

—That's exactly what I wanted to say too. I know this is often compared, but in Radiohead's “OK Computer,” for example, Tom Yorke's expression is driven by a rather negative feeling of resentment toward the systemic material world. On the other hand, what I felt from you, who expresses with your whole body and serves the audience so well, was a simple "joy for music." I read in other interviews that you mentioned generational differences with Radiohead, etc. Do you feel that you are already living in a newer generation than they are? Matthew: Yes, I feel that there is a huge generational difference between us and them. In fact, I think 10 years can be said to be a cycle in which a new generation begins. For example, we are a generation that has grown up with a constant awareness of computers and technology. It was always right around us. I think there is a difference in the way we think about these things. Of course, more emotional feelings, such as anger, are hidden in the hearts of every generation, and expressing them in music has been done for a long time. However, I think there are differences in nuance and methodology between generations.

Picture: Dominic was then, and still is, Matthew's greatest confidant.

—I felt at the show that your generation shares an optimistic view of the current situation, rather than an angry one. Are you aware of this kind of generational view? Matthew: Well, I feel that we are at the beginning of a new era.

—Are there any bands that you feel are close to your generation? Matthew: Slipknot, and maybe Deftones …… I don't know much (about the other bands).

—How old were you when you started playing guitar? Was there a band that inspired you? Matthew: I think I picked up the first guitar when I was about 13 or 14. My older brother had been learning to play guitar for a long time, but he stopped and nobody used the guitar anymore. I think that's when I first got interested. I had been playing in a school band since I was 12 years old, but at the time I was playing piano with a jazz/blues feel to it. Around the same time, Dominic, the drummer, was in a punk band, and I liked them a lot, so I thought I might as well do something on guitar, so I started with some simple Sonic Youth covers. It wasn't until I was 17 or 18 that I started to take it seriously. I think I finally became aware of myself as a guitarist when I started playing the Spanish guitar because of my travels.

—Your guitar style seems to be influenced by a variety of genres, from rock to blues to classical, but who are the guitarists that are your direct roots?Are you a player from the 90s? Matthew: There was a guy in the classical world in the 1920s named Villa-Lobos (Note: Heitor Villa-Lobos: Brazilian composer, one of the most important composers of the 20th century, known for incorporating Brazilian music into classical techniques. Died in 1959), and I practiced a lot of his stuff. He really had a big influence on me. Then there is Jimi Hendrix, Tom Morello (Rage Against the Machine), and Kurt Cobain (Nirvana). I would say those four are the guitarists who have had a big influence on me.

—The wide range of influences is very impressive, with each phrase having its own hidden interest. Matthew: It just comes naturally to me. The music I've been listening to has been a source of influence for me, and I think it comes naturally to me when I play music. When I was 13 or 14, there was a time when I only listened to so-called “indie” music, but when I turned 17 or 18, I became more open to all kinds of music, partly due to the influence of my travels. And I absorbed more and more new music. Well, I've been interested in blues and classical music since I was a kid. Once I became more open musically, I started listening again to music that I had buried in my “indie days”…… and that's where I am now.

“If you start out with an instrument and try to write a song, you end up limiting yourself by your technique and the tone that instrument has.”

—Furthermore, the way you make full use of effects shows that you are enthusiastic about using your technical skills. Matthew: Yes, I do. I use a pitch shifter a lot on guitar. I have two outputs on my guitar. One is for synths, and the other is for a normal amp. I can use any combination of these to create different sounds. I use three completely different types of amplifiers. One is normal, one is stereo, and one is for guitar synths. I can switch between them at will. The guitars are two Peavey “Wolfgang” guitars (note: Eddie Van Halen model). The main and the sub have slightly different heads. The sub can be played above the nut. The other one is a Yamaha. The body is Telecaster shape.

Picture: Chris was slender and quite handsome at the time.

—I think Johnny Greenwood, who defines the Radiohead sound, is very innovative as a guitarist. He once said in an interview that he sees the guitar as a tool and only one part of the band's sound, and I feel your approach to guitar playing is similar to that. Matthew: When I think of a show on stage, I think it can be said that the guitar is only one tool, as he said. But in terms of performance, there are many things you can do with the guitar. You can jump with the guitar, you can get wild, etc. I don't like the piano because you can't do that.

—Is songwriting a completely individual process? Matthew: Yes, it is. First of all, I try to picture every single note in the whole music, piano, guitar, bass, drums, vocals …… I try to picture it all in my head. Only when I have a complete composition in my head, do I take the instruments and start making sounds. The reason why I do this is that if I try to create a song with instruments from the beginning, I end up creating limitations based on my own technique and the tone quality of the instruments. If you do that, you will never be able to go beyond those limits. But there are also times when I try to take something I composed in my head and make it sound with an instrument, and it is still impossible. I have a new song that I'm working on right now, and there are some effects that I haven't been able to get to yet in terms of actually recreating it on an instrument. Until I get it, it's not possible to reproduce it as a song.

—Was your vocal style, with its impressive falsetto, established from the beginning? Matthew: I don't think my vocal style has changed since the beginning. I used to sing in the shower. I don't know if it was the humidity or what, but for some reason I felt my voice came out better. When I first started rehearsing with the band, we didn't have microphones or amplifiers. So I had to sing louder so that the other members could hear me. I guess you could say that my style became more defined through that experience.

—You will be touring the U.S. with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Foo Fighters (Note: Muse was recruited to open for Red Hot Chili Peppers on a 15-venue tour of the U.S. beginning in April 2000). Do you feel any sense of excitement? Matthew: I've played with the Foo Fighters for about three times in Paris, so I'm familiar with them. But this time, we are opening for 20,000-25,000 people. It will be interesting to see what kind of reaction we will get from that crowd, which will not necessarily be all of our fans. At the very least, we want to give it our all on stage.

—Any final message for our readers? Matthew: Well, check out Villa-Lobos (laughs). You'll hear some really amazing and exciting guitars. It's good to follow the new stuff, but I think it's also very important to look back and learn from the great history.

Translator's Notes: Okay, after translating the Memories of Muse 2000-2004 interview, translating this article, and extracting the latest texts for upcoming articles, I can't help but notice just how many times these Japanese journalists keep noting about how close Matt and Dom are.

Are they... were they already that obvious back then that it almost feels like these journalists found their friendship to be cute and adorable???? Am I reading this right????? Was Belldom already that obvious even in the year of 2000?????? Fellow Musers, please reply to tell me that I'm not seeing things??????

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hello dear. Hope you are well. I am not sure how best to articulate my thoughts but here we go. It's very very long but you inspired me today. You've been a beacon of change in questioning and challenging ITV. I wanted to quip in. Hope you don't mind. Arnav anger is often excused as coming from trauma and his 'grey/anti-hero' character is often glamorized. He is without a doubt compelling and attractive. Plus, he has his strengths such as honesty and forthrightness.

Ok, so this is a LONG question with a lot of your own analysis and I wouldn't touch that at all cause analyzing is a beautiful thing and I wouldn't want to add/remove from your lovely analysis. I'll just be adding some of my thoughts here and there :D

(rest of the ask below)

His greyness amplifies a lot of the hypermasculine stereotypical traits such as aggression, strength, power etc. In the narrative like in Kabir Singh this makes us discount the wrongs when perhaps his treatment of Khushi in many ways in similar. Rather we swoon over his charm when in reality most 'charming' men have similar shades and unfortunately, never change. The sense of entitlement and the joy of wielding power over others is observed in abusive men.

Tbh though, Arnav doesn't have any charm. Shyam has all the charm in the world and that's interesting considering he's a villain.

Often we excuse this behavior by comparing them to worse portrayals when again abuse usually escalates with time. For example, at least Arnav didn't violate Khushi's consent. How different were Shyam and Arnav? Weren't they both ultimately two sides of the same coin? Isn't this afterall a way to build tolerance towards worse behavior? Shyam is the 'bad' guy because he plans things deliberately, but aren't Arnav's actions also not something he is accountable for?

Fun fact, Arnav and Shyam were written to mirror each other in multiple situations. It was very intentional of the creators to draw a thin line between the anti-hero and villain and to be honest, at one point we all simply believed Arnav is the hero of the story only because he is Khushi's choice.

I wish Arnav's actions were far more accountable for - hence the guesthouse and resignation scenes are some of my favorites.

We don't talk much about Arnav and Anjali here. They are incredibly close, but the co-dependency is discernible. He is obligated to her for being the 'mother' but she is his first and Khushi the second. It does perhaps from trauma but Anjali has a lot of control over Arnav and he is guilt-ridden if she is hurt. We blame Khushi for her mistakes but do we ever consider that it is her desparation to receive unconditional love which is missing.

Arnav and Anjali have developed codependency over their trauma -which is what Shyam exploits.

Coming to Khushi, she is often criticized for her world revolving around Arnav, being infantilized, that she should 'stand up' etc. However, it's not a new fact that abusive relationships can be incredibly difficult to leave and can have a huge physical and emptional impact on a person's self-esteem. Is this not victim blaming? We also dismiss the impact Arnav's family has on Khushi. Anjali,Akash,Dadi -all had a role to play as their support was conditional or inadequate.

Hmm interesting. To share my opinion and take on this - my gripe with Khushi rarely comes from considering her and Arnav as real people and assessing their relationship as such. My gripe is with the writing in the show coming to Khushi. Khushi recessing to childlike behavior is a signal of trauma that @honeybellexox had once brilliantly discussed.

But the show is not portraying the delicate pained layers of emotions you described. The rest of the family is left out to hype TRP forced romance or family politics (not plot) and Khushi's weight of being in an abusive relationship is seriously traded for terrible writing which things suicide is funny, pissing off an abusive husband is hilarious.

We do not SEE Khushi's behavior as a response to a terrible marriage. We are made to see this is how Khushi is 'one upping' against Arnav by irritating him the way she poured juice in his shoes. And wow how intelligent.

There's no depth, no gravity, nothing in Khushi. She becomes hollow - not because of the pain you aptly put above - but due to a very Star Plus enforced 'bahu' trope.

Victim blaming would be wondering why Khushi didn't shove Shyam off the terrace scene and froze when Shyam hugged her - no, any reaction she had at that point is absolutely justified!

But wondering why Khushi acts around Arnav post revelation that she is having an affair of Shyam instead of providing facts or actual reasonings is a flaw in the show. Why? Because the intention of the show at that point was to ensure that Arnav's misunderstanding does not break and he is 'justified' in the audience's eye to mistreat Khushi. Now that is a problem.

The complication of Payal being married into the same family, lack of societal, financial and family support almost meant that Khushi had no choice but to humor situations and find happiness in meaningless trivalities. He child-like behavior and adherence to patriarchal traditions/rituals was her only resort to be accepted. That is so ingrained in her mind, that any attempt to tilt the balance might cause her more problems. Perhaps Khushi's character arc was realistic.

I absolutely wish the show showed the nuance you are writing. Her dancing to Nani for Holi was beautiful - it conveys everything you're saying. Her force-feeding Arnav mid meeting, forbidding anyone to give him food, then eating up food that can feed upto five people and still tasting the food before she gives him to eat is... ridiculous and demeaning as a character.

I do disagree with you on Khushi's arc because her arc, after a moment, is stunted to serve Arnav as a character. An excellent character that displays everything you wrote is Gauri from Ishqbaaz. They lend her the grace and gravity that one can only dream of in Khushi.

(I'll show it to you!!! You'll absolutely love it - it's a solid recommend from @aye-masakalii)

It wasn't the lack of strength or that she had certain traits. Her reality and worth had been controlled, toyed with and manipulated that she no longer could see things clearly which made her sink deeper into the marriage. Should the IPK writers be criticized for mirroring the reality many women still live in or is it an eye-opener which makes us very uncomfortable in acknowleding the sad reality that many women meet the same fate?

Our innate optimism makes us favor the idealized world that Arnav and Khushi were a fairytale. Perhaps they do end up being together but is that the only yardstick to measure marriage? More questions than answers, but isn't is critical to shift the repsonisbility towards Arnav rather than victim-blame Khushi? Love, RDX

I loved your analysis, and if the writing hadn't been so flat and actually conveyed everything you wrote - I would've never wanted Arnav and Khushi together.

Lol, maybe that's why my edits and fanfics exist.

Arnav needed to be held more accountable and Khushi needed to be written further as an independent character - these are perhaps some of my main grievances against the show only because they proved they could do it.

Best,

Soapy

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Bephanie Snippet

I've been looking forward to sharing this one.

Hope you guys enjoy!!

___

I ignored the terrible pit of dread in my gut as I knocked on the door. I had been travelling for almost the whole entire day. I was here on a mission - determined to rebuild what had been broken.

What I had broken, to be more specific.

Something that El always says is that when you make mistakes, you have to take full responsibility for them and take the necessary steps to make things right. This was me doing just that. I was scared, but I knew that I had to put my own feelings aside... like how I should have done, to begin with. This isn't about me. This is about making amends with my husband. Ben. Who I haven't seen or spoken to in weeks.

"It's going to be fine," I told myself. Aloud. I needed to hear those words.

I stood at the familiar front door, my heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and hope. Sooner or later, the door swung open, revealing you-know-who on the other side. I don't know if I was expecting that.

I mean, he was who I came here for. Of course, I was going to see him eventually. I wanted to see him. I guess I just didn't want to see him first. And I didn't think I would see him first, either... he's staying with his family. But I guess it's better this way. Get over the initial awkwardness of all this. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

We both kind of stared at each other in stunned silence. It wasn't a tense silence, there was no deep sense of uncomfortability around it. But it wasn't happy or peaceful either.

I mustered up the courage to finally speak (since he clearly wasn't going to). "Hey," I greeted casually. At least, I tried to sound casual. In reality, I probably sounded like a robot.

I was expecting a lot. I was expecting rage, pain, yelling, and some good old-fashioned passive aggression. Maybe even tears, like how he reacted when he first found out.

I wasn't expecting what I got.

"Steph?"

Just my name. Barely above whisper volume. It sounded like a question, a plead, a forgotten feeling. Or maybe that's just how I heard it.

It gave me a small amount of hope that I didn't have going in. I don't know what it was exactly... maybe it was the fact that he didn't immediately slam the door in my face. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't scream at me about what a gross and pathetic slut I was (like somebody said he would... thanks, Reginald). Or maybe it was the look in his eyes. His face was a mixture of conflicting emotions. I could see surprise, pain, fear and uncertainty. But there was something else beyond all that in his eyes, something I hadn't seen in a while – a warm glow. Light. Hope. A glimmer of the old love that had once been the foundation of our relationship. Maybe even a hint of forgiveness?

Ok, perhaps that one was a stretch. But he wasn't completely angry. There was a bit of hurt and anger there, but not as much as I thought there would be.

It gave me a renewed inner strength that I didn't know I needed. I allowed myself to relax a bit and smile.

Maybe there was hope for us after all. Everything can get back to normal. Things can be ok in my life for once!

Stop it, Steph. This isn't about you.

Before I could say anything else, the sound of laughter and chatter filled the air.

I glanced past Ben to see a lively scene unfolding in the living room. His family – parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews – were all gathered, sharing stories and joy. It was a warm, chaotic contrast to the heavy atmosphere between Ben and me. And I wanted in!

I think Ben could tell, because the next thing he did was step aside to let me enter, saying, "You want to come in, then?"

I nodded, my smile growing even wider. In I went.

_

"Stephanie!" Ben's younger adoptive sister, Emily, greeted me with a tight hug. "We've missed you!"

I returned the hug, laughing. "I've missed you more, Em."

Toby (Ben's older adoptive brother) came up from behind me and joined in on the hugging action. "Highly doubtful, Steph. No, but seriously, it's been way too long. How have you been?"

Where to begin... maybe stressed out of my damn mind with this investigation? Guilty for almost wrecking my own marriage? Miserable for hurting all of my friends? Confused about where I stand with Bret (or what my relationship with Bret even is now... this has been going on for months now, and I still have no idea what it is. I don't even really know how I feel about him anymore. Not that any of this even matters. Man... I can't believe I've spent this long talking about Bret - none of this is about him!)?

All because I was bored. And because I could. I didn't think about the potential consequences. I didn't care about how my actions could affect other people.

Man... I'm such a callous bitch sometimes.

Self-loathing rant aside, it was around this point when I began to notice how curious Ben's family was. Everyone seemed to have a new question to ask. I felt like I was being interrogated or something.

"You remember Aunt Thedra, right?" Toby asked, gesturing toward a kind-looking woman with greying hair, who was engaged in animated conversation with a man I distinctly remembered to be Emily's husband Gareth. I nodded without saying a word, despite not recognising "Aunt Thedra" at all.

"You want to say hi to the kids, Steph?" Emily asked, picking up one of her children - a small boy, probably no older than 4 or 5. I found out that his name was Jacob, and that he was the middle kid in Emily's family of 5(!) young children. But he didn't seem too pleased to see me (the kid straight up burst out crying when he noticed my presence), so I said no for now.

"Stephanie, darling!" called the sweet, gentle voice of Ben's mother, Marian. "It's lovely to see you back here again. I'm making some dinner, do you want beef or vegetarian casserole?"

Such a kind woman. Right as I prepared to open my mouth and respond, however, I heard this:

"How come she gets to pick what we have?!"

It was Lily. Jacob's big sister. I say "big" but she really doesn't look that much older than him... maybe a year or two.

"That's Stephanie, Lily," Marian calmly replied. "She's our guest for the night, so she gets to pick what we're having for dinner."

Lily grumbled a little bit more, but eventually, she got the message. I'm assuming she's heard about me in the past because she seemed to have an idea of who I was. How do I know this? Well, once she was done talking to Marian, she turned to me and went, "So, are you Uncle Ben's special friend?"

I kid you not. Straight up said that to my face!

I had no idea how to respond to this question coming out of a five-year-old girl's mouth. But I didn't have to, because just then, Ben's father, Paul, welcomed me with a genuine smile, and yet another warm hug. "Steph, love. How are you? Thought you were avoiding us!"

"No, Paul," I smiled back, returning the hug. "I've just had a lot on my plate lately."

Ben has a pretty large and chaotic family. It's nice to be surrounded by all this noise at a time like this - when your heart and mind are fighting for your attention, and you're hurting after weeks of nonstop despair, it's almost nice to have a room full of distraction. Being in a stimulating atmosphere like Ben's childhood home was a refreshing break from the cold dead silence I struggled to get used to when he left the house.

For a moment, I could almost forget the storm that loomed between Ben and me. But I knew that I had to face the music sooner or later.

_

The evening went by pretty smoothly, honestly - much smoother than I thought it would. Of course, it helped that Ben and I were kind of trying to avoid one another. Mostly to maintain the peace. But also because I had no idea what to even say to him. Which is weird, since I've had hours of travel time to think of things to say to him!

I caught him looking at me from across the room at several points. His gaze held a weird mixture of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place. I don't know what it was... I didn't want to give myself more false hope by convincing myself that it was forgiveness or understanding. It might be... but it was probably more along the lines of confusion. He seemed more conflicted than anything else.

I don't blame him. I'm confused, too. Not with him. With me. What's wrong with me?! I came here to fix things between us, and I have yet to figure out how to achieve this goal.

...That's a massive lie. I knew what to do. I knew what it would take. I just wasn't sure I had it in me. I was afraid.

How does that old expression go? "He who dares, wins?"

I came here to win.

I sat next to him on the sofa and tapped his arm to get his attention (he was on his phone).

"Hello," he mumbled awkwardly.

"Hey, Ben," I responded with a bit of that same awkwardness. "So, can we talk?"

"I think we should."

"Great. Should we go somewhere private, or-"

"DINNER TIME!" Marian yelled from the kitchen. For such a soft-spoken lady, she sure knows how to yell.

Patching things up with my husband is going to have to wait a little while longer.

_

Ben and I exchanged glances all throughout dinner. I was glad. Non-verbal communication was better than NO communication. Frankly, I was rather pleased that I no longer had to avoid eye contact with him.

Eventually, dinner finished up. Ben, being the kind soul that he is, helped Marian with the dishes and the clearing up of the kitchen. I stood outside and watched him help his mother out, and eventually, even Paul came in to do his part. He turned on some music, and the three of them had a little dance party as they did the chores. Marian called me in to come join the fun, but I didn't want to intrude on a sweet family moment.

"Nonsense," Paul laughed. "Steph, you are family. Come join us, love."

Why did hearing him say that almost make me cry, damn it

Anyway, once we were done with all of that, Ben, who was in a much better mood, took my hand and guided me to a more private part of the house, away from his family's curious eyes and ears.

We found ourselves at the bottom of the back garden. It was a place filled with memories of simpler times in our relationship - barbecues, surprise birthday parties, lazy Sundays, and stolen kisses. The air was charged with unspoken words as we faced each other.

"Your parents are so nice."

"I agree," Ben smiled. "They're the best parents I've ever had, that's for sure."

I laughed quietly at that one. Partially because I just wanted to laugh, and partially because I didn't know what to say. Or maybe I did, but I was scared of saying it. I had a feeling of where it would lead the conversation, and I didn't want to go there.

But he who dares, wins.

I want to be that "he." Even though I'm a she.

"How have you been?"

"Much better now that I have these guys," Ben replied, gesturing to the house full of music and family noise. That sweet sound of comforting chaos.

"I can imagine. You look great!" I offered, trying to keep the conversation nice and light for as long as possible.

"So do you," Ben sighed, his tone inscrutable. "Although you don't need me to tell you that, I don't think."

I sighed, too. "Oh, Ben. I've missed you so much."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Have you?"

"Of course! God, these past few weeks have been a nightmare without you. Did you really think I wasn't going to care at all when you left without a word?"

"I don't know, Steph. It's not like you need me all that much anymore. You have someone else to play with when you're lonely and bored."

I mean... ouch. But true.

"Ok... I deserved that."

"Look, Steph... nothing you do or say is going to change the way you've made me feel. I appreciate you coming all this way. I appreciate that you probably feel bad, and that you might want to make things right, but what you need to understand is-"

"I do! I do want to make things right!"

"Let me finish. It doesn't change anything. I don't need or want anything from you. No apologies, no nothing. All I need is time to move on."

Sounds simple enough. That doesn't mean I'm satisfied with that answer, though. There's a lot more that needs to be said.

"I need to give you an apology, Ben. Because you deserve it, and because after all the hurt I've caused, it's the least I can do. I'm so sorry. I messed up. I know that completely, and I take full responsibility for it. It's not your fault in any way, so I hope you don't feel like it is, even a little bit."

Ben was quiet for a while after I said that. "Steph," he began, "I need to understand. I need to know why."

I'm still searching for the answers to that question myself. "I don't know," I admitted to him. "I guess it was a way to unwind. Or forget about how stressed the investigation was making me."

Ben's face sank when he heard that. "You could've just talked to me about it," he said.

It's true. I could've. But the thing is, that's not really the reason. I don't know what the actual reason is, but it sure as hell ain't that.

"I have no idea. It didn't mean anything to me, Ben. It still doesn't. And neither does he. We've stopped seeing each other, by the way."

"That's great! Problem solved. Yippee."

"Ok, stop. I know that things aren't going to get better between us overnight, Ben. I can accept that. What I won't accept is your decision to give up on us."

"What do you mean?!"

"'I just need to move on'? Sounds like quitter talk to me."

"You quit on us first!"

"It's not a competition, Ben! You and I are married! Married. Do you know what that means?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

Another excellent question.

"Yeah. It means that when things get rough, you deal with things together. As a team. Instead of fucking off to the other side of the country to stay with mummy and daddy because your wife is hurting your feewings. Actually fighting for your relationship and actively trying to make it work, instead of being a damn baby about it. That's what it means."

"Oh, my God..."

A little harsh, I know. But the longer the conversation went on, the more I knew that this was going to take more than a simple apology or a gesture of kindness and love. This was a trust issue. Ben just doesn't trust me anymore. And much like Rome, trust can't be (re)built in a day.

The argument went on until it finally reached its peak, with both of us standing on the precipice of emotional exhaustion. Silence lingered, filled only by the echoes of harsh words exchanged in the confined space. That was it. We ran out of stuff to say. We were done.

Except... not really.

Suddenly, it was almost as if he and I were being drawn together by an invisible force. Our eyes locked in a moment of shared vulnerability, and the charged atmosphere shifted. The anger and hurt that had fueled our fight transformed into a different kind of intensity. I felt my breath getting caught in my throat as I gazed at him. I still couldn't quite read his expression, but I had a feeling he was thinking what I was thinking.

Without a word, without a conscious decision, our lips met in a desperate and passionate kiss. It was a collision of conflicting emotions, a fusion of anger, desire, and the lingering traces of love that had not completely faded.

It was a disjointed, chaotic dance, a paradoxical blend of frustration and longing. It spoke of a history shared, a connection that, despite its fractures, had not entirely disintegrated. At that moment, the outside world faded away, and the only reality that existed was the collision of two souls desperately seeking solace in each other.

It was so... weird. And random. And beautiful.

When we broke away from each other, our eyes met again, now clouded with a mixture of confusion and a hint of something deeper. Hope?

I've got to stop seeing everything as a sign of hope, man.

Anyways, later on in bed, we continued having this conversation. Sort of.

"This whole thing has completely destroyed what we have. I don't know if we can even put things back together... at least not the exact way it used to be. Things'll probably never be the same ever again."

I swallowed hard, the reality of his words sinking in. "I don't want it to be the same, Ben. I want it to be better. I want us to be better. And I believe we can make it better, too. Don't you?"

Ben's expression softened, a hint of vulnerability breaking through. "You don't even know what 'better' means right now, Steph. And neither do I. That's something that'll take a while to figure out."

"Yeah..." I agreed, sighing. "But that doesn't mean we can't try."

I mean, look at us. We're practically halfway there!

___

Book 2 is so dysfunctional, y'all. I'm just realising lol.

But yeah. This is a long one, but it's pretty packed. Hope you guys enjoyed it. Let me know your thoughts!

Also, who is your favourite member of Ben's family? I love his mum, personally <3

[thatonebirdwrites]

edelweiss and ivy. also cactus if you don’t mind another one. sending you good vibes for your day ahead. thank you for sharing your writing with us. x

Aw, I'm glad you enjoy my writings! edelweiss ⇢ how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you? My nickname is Bird. Had it since I was a child actually. It started as a joke, where my younger sister claimed I sung like a bird, perched like a bird (I loved to climb trees as a kid), and fluttered like a bird. A few friends took the joke further and started calling me bird whenever I was being excessively silly or if they caught me climbing on something to just perch and watch silently an activity. Then when I was twenty-three, I almost drowned in the Gulf of Mexico. It was in Mississippi when I was working on a housing project, before I got super sick. My team had taken a break at the beach, and I was just wading around. I can't really swim, so I didn't follow the others in their swimming races. I was fairly close to the beach, and the water only went up to my knees.

Picture the day: a cool breeze off the ocean smelled faintly of salt and algae. Sky studded with cirrus clouds, and the water cold against my calves. Sand squeezed between my toes, and only a few shells poked the sole of my foot.

Suddenly, the sand fell away from my feet, and I plunged into the cold water, having lost the ground entirely. I tumbled in the waves, the murky water dark and disorienting. I couldn't tell up from down. A creature dived in front of my face, looking like a living shadow. I didn't think. I just grabbed it, and felt feathers against my skin. The bird, who likely thought it was diving for fish, angrily bit my hand, but I held on. Up the bird went, tugging my hand in the direction of air.

Once I broke the surface, I opened my hand and floundered in the water. My teammates shouted my name then and soon I was surrounded by the others who dragged me back to shore.

I have to admit, they were astonished to see me erupt from the waters and release a bird to the sky. Because of that, they started calling me Bird too. So the nickname stuck. I use it now for all my online stuff. As for the rest of the username -- well I write stories. Sadly TheBirdWrites was already taken on tumblr, which is why I used 'that one bird writes' instead. For AO3, thankfully, TheBirdWrites was open for me to nab as a username.

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired? This depends on which part of me is present. If I'm shy or nonverbal, I smile and tend to be more open to affection. When I get overwhelmed or tired, I frown and curl in on myself. Nonverbal me communicates with gestures or writing things down.

If I'm super tired, I get ditzy and a bit silly. It looks almost like one of those fun drunks, but I don't drink at all. When I'm more vocal, I'll ramble like Kara Danvers when I'm happy or excited. I'll be eager to share whatever story or thought I have. Or ask a dozen questions to hear the other person's thoughts. And it'll be this silly eager joy that bubbles out of me. When I'm annoyed, I cross my arms and grimace. If I feel well enough, I'll directly state why. But my annoyance quickly turns to tears. My anger is the same way, it burns bright and then quickly extinguishes to tears. That's when I struggle to put my words together in a coherent manner. If I'm with someone I trust, that's when I give my safe word if I need to exit to recuperate. If I'm upset or close to panicking, I just shut down. As in, literally collapse into a heap on the floor and huddle there until I recover. People have mistaken this for a seizure, so I've ended up in the emergency department one too many times. :/ I fidget a LOT. So will often have some sort of fidget toy with me. Usually one of those spinners or the flexible cubes. (I love those cubes. You can unfold them flat then fold them up again. They ended up in one of my stories as one of Lena's fidget toys). Me fidgeting doesn't necessarily mean I'm anxious.

The tell is if my hand tremors are visibly apparent and I'm struggling to unfold the cube or spinning the spinner as fast as I can, then I'm super anxious. If the tremor is hard to see and my fingers gently working the fidget toy in a slow, methodical way, then I'm deep in thought.

cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)?

Again depends on who is present. :) Here's a taste of some of what I'm learning:

I love to worldbuild, but to do that, I need to read about different ways of organizing society since I want to explore non-capitalist societies in my Elivera world, where almost all my original fiction takes place. One of those authors is Elisee Reclus, the 18th century social geographer, who critiqued domination and colonialism and racism but also explored anarchist and communal ways of organizing society. I also have a few books next to me that focus on how Indigenous tribes organized, communes like the Paris commune in 1800s or communes in Switzerland, the radical communes in South America, the Zapatista of Chiapas, Rojava in Syria, and other places like that. I'm also reading about Irish myths and legends. Specifically about The Morrigan and the Tuatha Dé Danann and their four treasures. Earthing the Myths by Daragh Smyth is one of the books I'm reading for this.

I am also reading about various magical practices such as Wild Magic by Forest or Water Magic by Lillith Dorsey And of course, I can't help but read about some of the recent developments in astrophysics. Like the physics of a black hole, specifically the quantum aspects that happen in the singularity. I wanted to study this in grad school, but then I got really ill and have been unable to ever go. So I read about it instead and dream up story ideas. All that to say, I can't pin down one idea. I bounce back and forth on the above topics depending on which part is present. :)

Thank you for asking! :D

[autistichalsin]

@haarlep requested I share my INCREDIBLY self-indulgent t4t Halsin/Karlach, Karlach getting Halsin pregnant thoughts so here we are:

I go back and forth on whether I want Halsin to be enby or binary trans guy, but more often I have him as nonbinary. And, fun fact: high level (like, say, Archdruid level [I'm ignoring his in-game stats which are clearly just for the purpose of not breaking the game because having a level that high would just be ridiculous]) Circle of the Moon Druids gain such control over their form that they can mimic appearance altering spells. So... what I'm saying here is, enby Halsin deciding he's most comfy with both sets of parts.

And Karlach likes her body as it is. She's done some magical alterations to grow breasts and whatnot, but isn't particularly interested in going much further. She still has the ability to get others pregnant, though doesn't think that will ever be a reality for her, in the canon timeline.

So she and Halsin get together, and after canon they're settling in nicely. (I know some people feel that Karlach is too monogamous for Halsin, but... she really isn't? She always is okay with her partner/the player being with others, it's just that she herself seems to prefer one partner. And given that Halsin makes no distinction whether the player is with him alone, or him and another, I don't think he'd mind that she isn't quite the same as him either.) They take care of a lot of orphans, and of course Thaniel and Oliver, who are happy to have wagons full of playmates. It gets them feeling very, very domestic.

And, well. At first they just have sex. Halsin loves Karlach's cock, and bottoming may be very new for him (not that he was ever against it, it's just, he's so big that NO ONE has ever asked him before!) but he absolutely loves it from the moment they first do the do. Both for the physical sensations, and because it's Karlach, and because it's new and... oh, look at that, he's getting taken care of for once!!

They aren't trying for a baby. But after a while, they also aren't not trying for a baby- without saying any of it out loud, they both stop asking the other about birth control, Halsin stops carrying the ingredients to make an emergency morning-after potion, etc. Whatever happens, happens, if the Oak Father wills it, you get the picture. (No, it's not exactly healthy, but they're also two very traumatized people who are unused to being able to directly ask for what they want, let alone when they aren't entirely sure they do want it.)

So then... the inevitable happens.

For maximum drama, they periodically have to return to Avernus to recharge Karlach's engine, and Halsin realizes he's pregnant during one such visit but hides it from Karlach, who only notices when she sees that Halsin's center of gravity has changed, he's putting on a bit of weight, and most crucially- one day he gets knocked down by an enemy imp, and rather than trying to brace himself with his hands, he wraps his arms around his belly to protect it.

So, this leads to a lot of emotions. The instant Karlach is recharged, they leave Avernus, and Karlach just has so many questions and worries and a bit of anger too that he kept this from her, even if it turns out he had absolutely pure intentions (I.E. not wanting to stress her out when she was already in the place she hates the most, and also wanting the reveal to happen in a place where they could both have just the sheer joy of it- he had a picture in his mind). But then comes the excitement from Karlach.

She feels his tummy all the time. The baby is Big. To the point that Karlach starts to wonder if they have one big baby or two regular sized ones. Halsin groans and says labor is going to be awful either way. It turns out to be one, and Karlach is just delighted at this development, picking the baby up and squealing that they're another Strong, just like their parents. Lots of happy tears happen, and Halsin actually sleeps instead of meditating for a couple of days after that from sheer exhaustion.

Thaniel and Oliver are delighted to have a little sibling. There is just one problem, which is that Halsin develops a bit of separation anxiety- he tries not to smother, he really does, but the combination of hormones plus the fact that this is the first blood relation he's had for centuries, the first one he hasn't lost, plus his trauma from the Shadow Curse and the Absolute and all that really takes a toll on him.

So... he makes a sling, and Baby VERY rarely leaves the sling. Even handing Baby to Karlach for a few minutes is hard for him. He's just terrified he'll lose them the same way he lost his family before, the way he lost his friends to the Shadow Curse. And Karlach, she tries so very hard to understand, but she has her OWN traumas, especially around not being able to touch her loved ones and losing HER family too, and it does eventually lead to an argument. And then a few tear-filled confessions from both of them. After that, it slowly gets better, both of them working on it together, like exposure therapy. Taking turns holding the baby, for a minute, two minutes, gradually longer until finally, Karlach can take the baby out of sight.

They end up being sort of absurdly fertile, because, well, Druid, and because Very Active Sex Life. Lots of jokes abound in the refugee colony about them singlehandedly trying to repopulate it, and didn't Halsin already have enough little ones who call him Daddy Halsin? Karlach just retorts that they're jealous because she and Halsin have more sex than the rest of the village combined. That shuts them up, usually, for the most part, but it's all in good fun anyway, the refugees adore Halsin (and by extension Karlach) and Halsin still finds time to take care of the orphans and read to them and he even still manages to remember each and every one's birthday when few others do. Because Halsin has a huge heart and he has enough space in that big heart for many children, just like he has enough space for many romantic partners.