#even in times of absolute heartache and sorrow

[all-made-of-stardust]

okay but here’s why I actually straight up started crying towards the end there.

when the Hells first arrived in Uthodern, the atmosphere was fear.  the city was dark.  temples were closing their doors.  the center for knowledge, where so many people came for answers, did not have knowledge.  did not have answers.  people were scared.  scared that they couldn’t find help, scared that they couldn’t reach out to loved ones, ask if they are okay.

and suddenly, within their very walls, within their homes, a horrible beast sprouted forth from the heart of the city.  there was death, there was destruction.  there was despair.  because if their own home wasn’t safe, then nowhere was.

the darkness was winning.

then a woman with purple hair and odd markings spoke into the captain of the guard’s mind and told him that things were better.  things were okay.  and he believed her.  because what else could he do but to cling to hope?

because that’s what the Hells brought with them, as this terrifying celestial beast that once brought death now steps out, wearing a peach bow, surrounded by the radiance and light that the city so sorely needed.  he is guarded by such an odd group, but they all exude calm.  there is a small gnome wearing a pink handknit sweater riding on its back.

they guide this noble, beautiful beast through an entire city, and the whole time they are showcasing to everyone that the darkness is not winning.  not now.  not while there is still hope kindling in our hearts.  not while ancient beasts can once again see the stars.

the world may be ending, but it hasn’t ended yet.

not if Bells Hells can help it.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

424

All right, listen. It’s pretty damn funny that two weeks ago I posted all like, “oh I don’t really comment chapter-by-chapter, I’m waiting to see what happens next,” but this one broke me.

This chapter was everything I wanted for bkdk, and it’s so much more tender than I ever dreamed it could be.

This post is not going to be like most of my posts, because I am a flood of emotion. If you’re wanting some detailed, well-researched analysis of this scene, that ain’t coming for a while.

I don’t have some kind of comparative linguistics to show you. I just have my visceral reactions as someone who speaks Japanese and has absorbed Japanese media for many years. I have shared my heart with others in Japanese, I’ve sputtered out words between sobs and felt the many kinds of comfort different people try to offer. I have comforted others who let themselves be vulnerable with me.

In all these moments, just as in English, I wondered if my words and feelings reached them. Each time, I felt the warmth of connection when they looked at me, and I decided that they knew I did my best. They accepted me, even if it wasn’t perfect.

I’m gonna tell you the truth, and I wouldn’t normally say this so directly, but it matters to me: the fan translation for this specific scene is not good. The tone is wildly off in some ways and it outright omits a number of very important words.

The official translation gets so much of it right.

But that’s not really what I want to talk about right now. I want to talk about how people are reading this scene.

I have seen a ton of, frankly, oblivious interpretations of Izuku’s side of things.

Listen to me. Izuku is not making fun of Katsuki for crying, he is not telling Katsuki that crying isn’t like him, that isn’t in the text at all. He is not rejecting Katsuki’s feelings, or belittling them, or ignoring them, or any of that.

Izuku has seen Katsuki cry in-canon a number of times, but every time it was over his own personal failures, and the frustration, anger, guilt, and grief associated with them. We see it in the aftermath of Deku vs. Kacchan 1. We see it during Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

Izuku is shocked to see Kacchan cry because this is the first time he has cried for Izuku.

When Katsuki apologized in 322, he looked Izuku in the eye and told him his feelings with conviction and poise. He was gentle and vulnerable, but strong, because he was asking Izuku to trust them and rely on them. To come back with them and believe in them, like they believe in Izuku. He bowed his head to show his remorse. He caught Izuku when he fell, and he accepted Izuku’s own apology.

He embodied dignity, sincerity, and strength of character. He was a true hero.

This?

This is the raw, honest sorrow of a young boy. It is a tender, earnest, unguarded display of how much Izuku means to him.

These are the tears you shed for someone you cherish. These are tears for when you think you are losing something you can’t live without. Because Katsuki isn’t just crying for the loss of Izuku’s dream—it’s their dream, the future they dreamt up together as kids.

Izuku is almost pathologically incapable of understanding how other people see him and feel about him, but this is unmistakable. He is stunned because there is no other explanation.

There is unmitigated heartache and longing at the core of Katsuki saying, “I just thought somehow we would be together like this, competing and chasing after each other, forever.”

And Izuku is reeling, but so, so touched, and filled with fondness. Look at how his shock shifts to this overwhelmed, affectionate smile.

He’s right—this isn’t the usual Katsuki, and that is precisely why it means so much. We as the audience have been privy to Katsuki’s feelings, but until now Izuku himself has never really grasped the depth of them. This is all the tenderness Katsuki has kept locked up inside, and he is letting Izuku see it for the first time.

To see Kacchan—strong, fierce, and absolutely unstoppable—shed these innocent, helpless tears for him and tell him through sobs that he wanted things to stay this way forever, I can’t blame him for being blown away.

I think Izuku expected Katsuki to be shocked and a little sad that he gave up OFA, both for Izuku’s sake and because it is the legacy of their hero. Before Katsuki even starts crying, Izuku has this small smile on his face, like he was ready to reassure him that he had made peace with his own choice.

But he clearly didn’t expect for Katsuki to weep openly in front of him about it or to confess to wanting him by his side. Izuku had so enjoyed just being allowed near Katsuki, allowed in his life at all—to think that Katsuki could want the same and want it this much, to the point that he worries that things would change, that Izuku would abandon him or deny him? How could that ever be?

In what world could Izuku ever stop chasing Kacchan?

Izuku is a bit of an idiot. He has always thought that Katsuki understood how much he cared for and admired him—that’s why he is so shocked during DvK2 to hear that Katsuki thought he looked down on him for years. Izuku thought Katsuki understood his feelings and simply rejected them.

The way he loves Kacchan is natural and unquestionable. Even now, he can’t understand how Katsuki doesn’t know. It’s baffling to him.

But he still accepts Katsuki’s vulnerability and responds to the intimacy.

This is such an affectionate, loving thing to say. Izuku is being so sweet. I cannot convey to you strongly enough how Izuku telling Katsuki, “C’mon, stop it, this isn’t like you!” reaffirms their closeness.

If Izuku had not said this line and instead skipped straight to this nervous, awkward little attempt at comfort here:

It would have read as so much more distant.

With his tears and his confession, Katsuki pleads with Izuku to not leave him. To be with him always.

And in response, Izuku unabashedly stakes his claim on their bond by being bold enough to affectionately scold him and even assert authority on what kind of person Katsuki is. Remember these?

Chapters 202 and 319

This is such a staple in Japanese media for showing close bonds. Your loved ones know you. They tease you. They scold you. They have that right. You gave it to them.

The people you love cheer you up by reminding you that you’re strong and brave and that even if things feel hopeless and like you can’t go on, that they know you can. Everything will be okay, and they know so because they’ll be right there with you. Of course they’ll be there.

Symbolically, throughout the series, Izuku’s response to Katsuki trying to be closer to him has always been: “Of course.”

He has always accepted Katsuki as much as he is able to, as much as he had awareness for. He is wildly lacking in self-awareness, so it’s certainly not perfect, but by god does he try.

What Izuku is really saying is a mixture of “Really? You want that, too?” and “Don’t be silly!”

One part is him being shocked and touched; the other is him being absolutely certain of his own heart, and showing it as best he can.

He does get flustered and self-conscious, though—because it’s overwhelming to see Kacchan this way, and this is kind of new territory for them. So he switches tactics to reassure Kacchan about how things are now, and make sure he doesn’t feel embarrassed about this outburst. He still has the embers, so it’s okay for now. And their bodies are weak, so of course their heads will be in a bad place too, it’s easy to get low spirits. Of course Katsuki would be feeling vulnerable. It’s normal.

He gives Katsuki so many things here. He gives him as much as he can.

Izuku doesn’t know how long he’ll have the embers for and, frankly, he doesn’t have any guarantee that he will be able to satisfy this longing of Katsuki’s after he loses them. This, too, is a staple of promises in Japanese media: “I don’t know if I can satisfy you, but I want to try. I hope you can accept me.”

Things will be different—the future is always uncertain, now more than ever for their world. But what will never change is what they feel in their hearts.

After this scene, I honestly don’t care if we get something other people see as “bkdk canon.”

What Katsuki says is as good as a confession to me. What Izuku says in return is genuine and pure. This is a messy pair of teenage boys figuring out how to reach each other with words, when they have always been so damn bad at it. This is the two of them both reaching a new point of intimacy and reaffirming everything that came before.

[photogirl894]

Hello, for your celebration, could I request angst with Wrecker and fem romantic reader, “I can’t do this anymore.” with “I’ll never be enough.”

Thanks!

I remember I had started this one when you were having problems with your blog cuz I didn't want to lose the request and I'm sorry I'm only now finishing it 😫

"Living In Fear"

19. "I can't do this anymore."

23. "I'll never be enough."

Pairing: Wrecker x fem reader

***

You found yourself crying in the corner of your apartment, your heart breaking inside.

Not long ago, you had gotten a message from the Bad Batch. Your sweetheart, Wrecker, had been involved in a bad accident...and they weren't sure if he was going to pull through. They were trying to make it back to Coruscant in time to get him proper medical attention and if they did, they wanted you to be there.

That's where you were really struggling. Not only were you distraught with worry that you could lose Wrecker, but the constant fear you'd been experiencing for months of whether or not Wrecker or any of the boys would come back okay from each mission was eating you alive. You loved all of those Clones dearly, but every time they left on a mission, you couldn't help but worry if that would be the last you'd see of them. So far, each time they came back, but there was always that fear that it would one day come to an end.

Now, it seemed as though that time had come for Wrecker and you couldn't handle it.

"I can't do this anymore...!" you cried aloud to yourself.

You couldn't take living in constant fear anymore. As much as you cared deeply for Wrecker and wanted him in your life, it was too much worrying if he would come back from each mission. Though, now, it might not even matter because he could die at any time. That thought scared you more. You didn't want to lose him. What were you going to do?

A couple of agonizing hours passed until you got another transmission from Hunter saying they had made it to Coruscant, Wrecker had been taken to the GAR's top medical facility and the medics had told them Wrecker would be okay. They had been able to save him in time, some surgeries had been performed and he was going to recover. You found yourself crying again, this time with absolute relief. Wrecker was going to be okay!

But...were you willing to risk this kind of heartache again?

What if there was another mission where he got hurt again? What if next time, he didn't make it back alive or the medics couldn't save him? Your heart would surely fail.

Hunter had asked if you would come see Wrecker now that he was awake and out of surgery...but you told him you weren't sure and voiced your worries to him. There was definitely sadness and a bit of disappointment in his face when he listened to you.

"I...understand what you must be going through," Hunter told you, "and I know that worry must be weighing heavily on you, but...you are the best thing that ever happened to Wrecker. He cares very deeply for you and your name was the first thing he said when he was waking up. I think you would be making a mistake if you left him now...and I say that for both your sakes because I know you care just as much for him. Please...come see him...or at least think about it, okay?"

You gave him a tearful nod and the transmission ended. Inside, your heart was in pain, enough that it made you clutch at your chest. You knew Hunter was right. Despite the fear you harbored, you knew it would ultimately kill you to end things with Wrecker.

Your love for Wrecker was stronger than your fear.

With that epiphany in mind, you rushed as quickly as you could to get to the medical facility.

When you got there, you were directed to the room Wrecker and his brothers were in and you ran swiftly to the room. The door to the right room opened, you started to run in...but then you heard voices inside on the other side of a curtain.

"So...she's not coming?" you heard Wrecker ask, apparent sorrow in his voice.

"I...I don't think so, Wrecker," Hunter's voice replied. "She wants to, but...the thought of almost losing you is just...a lot for her to handle right now."

"I should've known it was too good to be true," Wrecker said back and tears immediately came to your eyes. "I hate making her feel afraid all the time, especially for me. If she doesn't want to deal with that anymore...then I guess I can understand. I thought it would be different with her, but...I should've known better. I'm not enough for her. I'll never be enough."

You were seconds away from throwing the curtain back and shouting how wrong Wrecker was, but you heard Hunter tell him, "That isn't true and I know she'll tell you the same things...because she's here."

Right then, the curtain was pulled away and you saw Hunter standing closest to you and then Tech, Echo and Crosshair on either side of the medical bed. On the raised up bed laid Wrecker, almost the whole left side of his face wrapped up in bandages. You had forgotten for a second about Hunter's enhanced senses and so he would've known that you'd shown up. The others looked surprised to see you, but Wrecker looked the most surprised of all. He said your name both in shock and also sadness at you now seeing him this way. You burst into tears, crying out his name in return and you practically leapt onto the bed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as you could without hurting him. As he hugged you back, you heard several sets of footsteps behind you followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. You figured the rest of the boys had left to give you and Wrecker some privacy.

"I'm so sorry," Wrecker told you, stroking your back.

"Don't apologize," you said, shaking your head in his neck. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I let my fear and worry rule my head and my heart and I nearly wanted to let you go...but I just knew I couldn't. Yes, I worry anytime you leave for a mission, but I worry because you mean so much to me. You give me something to care for. I love you too much to let my fear come between us. You are enough for me, Wrecker, and you always will be!"

His arms tightened even more around you. "You also give me something to care for and a place to come home to. I love you and you'll always be enough for me, too. I was scared I was going to die and leave you alone...but I'm happy I lived so I could stay in your life. I'm not gonna leave you like that."

You kissed his cheek and hugged him tighter. "I know you won't...nor will I ever leave you."

Photogirl894's Angst Prompts

Photogirl894's 1000 Followers Fics

[peaches2217]

Do you think that at some point during their pining stage, after literal months/years of waiting and being slightly fed up with wanting, that Peach decided to try dating some other prince or lowborn noble?

My take: absolutely not. I’m sure the thought’s crossed her mind, the notion that she needs to give up and move on because it’s not happening, it would be healthiest that way, or even the spur-of-the-moment feeling of “I’m sick to death of feeling so lovesick, I just want SOMEONE to love me the same way I love them.” But when she thinks about it for more than a few seconds at a time… she’s frustrated, yes. She wants to love romantically and be loved the same way in return. But more than wanting to experience that kind of feeling, she wants Mario. She doesn’t want to move on. She doesn’t want anyone else to love her. She wants his love or she wants no love at all.

But she refuses to let that desperation lead her into a spiral or down any less than savory paths. Sure, Mario isn’t in love with her she thinks to herself while Mario gives her the most blatant heart eyes you’ve ever seen in your life three feet away. But he still loves her. He’s her dearest, closest friend in the whole world, and if she has to put up with a bit of heartache to continue making fond memories with him, so be it. She only wants him, but she can’t have him, so she’s content for the time being to remain loveless.

(I imagine at some point she actually says all of this to Luigi, sighing in sorrowful longing the whole time, and it takes every last ounce of strength he possesses to not just march home, drag Mario back to the castle by the ear, and force them to confess to each other. A guy can only take so much!)

[cnnmairoll]

That's good to hear.

I had a little idea based around Tingyun because I love her so much and what happened to her makes me so sad. I had this thought since we go around handing out her gifts for people after she died, what if one of those people was her lover? Like the reader is Tingyun's lover and they think 'wow she must be busy with her job' only for the express crew or madam Yukong to come and tell them the truth about Tingyun and Phantylia and maybe the present given to the reader is like an engagement ring. The angst idea just hit me after playing through it.

Anyway, thank you for listening of course. It was an idea I feel I needed to share.

-🌸

Farewell, Tingyun.

Pairing : Tingyun x Reader Genre : Angst a/n : Sorry this took awhile 🌸anon !! I absolutely love your idea but I apologize if I can't bring it to justice!!

The Palace of Astrum stood silent under the cascade of stars that painted the night sky. You, nestled in Tingyun's room, gazed at the empty chair by her writing desk, where she'd spin tales that would enthrall the entire galaxy. It had been weeks since you last saw her, and though your heart ached for her, you had convinced yourself that her role as Head Representative of the Whistling Flames was consuming her time.

Each day, you longed for her return, but each night you fell asleep with her absence heavy in your thoughts. "She must be busy," you told yourself. "Her work is important, and she's always dedicated to her guild." Yet, beneath the veneer of understanding, a gnawing worry ate at your soul.

On a somber, moonless evening that you sat in your chambers, pondering over a letter you had received. It was from Madam Yukong, the seasoned Helm Master of the Xianzhou Alliance's Sky-Faring Commission. The letter was marked with sorrow, and your heart began to pound with trepidation.

You rushed to the Grand Hall, where Madam Yukong stood, her expression grave. Beside her was Trailblazer, a trusted friend of Tingyun's, and Yanming, the Celestial Guild envoy. Their faces told a story of grief that words could not convey.

"Please, take a seat," she said softly, her voice trembling like leaves in a storm.

You complied, heart pounding, as Trailblazer and Yanming flanked you on either side.

"What is it? What's happened?" you asked, your voice quivering.

Helm Master Yukong took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Tingyun," she began, "Tingyun is no more."

The world seemed to stop. Tingyun, the silver-tongued storyteller, the love of your life, was gone. You could hardly process the words as they reverberated through your mind, a cruel and relentless echo.

"She was on a mission," Yukong continued, "one we believed to be safe. But the universe has a cruel sense of timing."

Tears streamed down your face as you clutched your chest, your heart shattering into a million pieces. Tingyun was gone, and you hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

Barely holding herself together, Yukong insisted on a "soul-soothing ceremony" to appease the pain that everyone felt. Before the ceremony, you, Trailblazer, and Yanming were tasked with sorting through Tingyun's belongings in the Palace of Astrum. It was a painful task, a cruel reminder of her absence.

As you carefully sifted through her possessions, you stumbled upon a small, ornate box. A label bore your name, and your heart leapt in your chest. Trembling, you opened it and discovered an engagement ring, a beautiful, delicate thing with a shimmering gem that seemed to hold the very essence of the stars.

Tears flowed freely as you clutched the ring to your chest, realizing that Tingyun had planned to ask you to be her forever. The weight of your loss bore down upon you, but the ring was a bittersweet reminder of the love you had shared and the love she had intended for your future.

In the midst of grief and heartache, you found solace in the love that had blossomed between you and Tingyun. Her captivating tales might have enchanted the galaxy, but it was her love that had captured your heart. And as you held that ring, you made a silent promise to carry her memory with you, to keep her stories alive, and to love her for all eternity, even as the stars continued to shine above, indifferent to the pain of mortals.

[cheolism]

Hiii I recently became a Carat and as an avid fanfic reader, I was wondering if there are any stories you can recommend!! I have no member preference, as long as there is an interesting story (longer the better, if there are chapters even better). And i love me a good smut 👀

hi sweetheart!! first and foremost, i recommend checking out the other authors of svthub. here you'll find a variety of svt writers!!! as of right now we're doing our spring collab, so def check that out!!! note that i only have a few members on here (gyu, joshie, hoshi, kwannie)? i didn't realize until i finished that i only had these four???? idk if this is my subconscious trying to tell me something but i'll continue to ignore it!!!

my personal faves are all reblogged under fic rec, but here's some that have stood out to me since reading~

spoiled by @wonusite ; KMG

"summary: you have never been spoiled, but that changes after you meet the man your mother is going to marry."

it's got four parts and is so fucking disgusting and wonderful it's ridiculous. it's seriously a marvel to humanity tbh and when aliens come and ask for a relic to prove that humans deserve to be spared from their alien wrath, i'll give them these fics <3

acouasm by @angelwoozi ; HJS

"n.) a ringing noise in your head — and it's just three words of promise whispered by yours truly during moments of sorrow, or moments of joy. the whisper also lives in the crevices of your mind during moments of pleasure, when he makes love to you, his true love."

it isn't necessarily long, but it is so fucking sweet and artful? in my tags i described it as truly belonging to the golden hour, and tbh i still stand by it. it's incredibly tender and freya's way with words reminds me of ancient greek and roman statues; there's an era in art called neoclassical, where artists mostly focus on depicting mythos and creatures from greek, roman, and christian lore. like, an angel with outstretched wings, her shawl expanding and wrapping around her, heaven's spotlight surrounding.

to the brim by @toruro ; KMG

"description: all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?"

LISTEN mika writes some of the filthiest shit, i'm not even kidding. idk how her brain comes up with some of this stuff? somehow she KNOWS all of my deepest kinks and secrets and just writes them like they're NOTHING? truly a menace to society and we should all be on our knees thanking her.

bluff and nonsense by @thepixelelf ; KSY

"

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

or

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense."

this fic fuckign RUINED ME. the others don't have as much plot as this, but even months after reading it still remains one of my favorite fics. i've been meaning to reread it? but i just haven't gotten to it, but i know i'll still feel the heartache and betrayal all over again, it's just that good. like it's so good you can feel the stabbing in your heart and tummy :(

vanilla by @milfgyuu ; HJS

"Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay."

probably the dirtiest fic on this list. it's absolutely wild. there was NO preparing for everything in this fic? it's insane. absolutely insane fr. like -- even reading the tags can't prepare you. reader wasn't prepared and i really don't think ANYONE ever could have been.

stay-at-home husband/dad mingyu by @celestiababie

it's what it says! stay at home gyu who is willing to help his darling breadwinner spouse with whatever they need :) it's got multiple parts and such, and it's so cruel that it exists because it'll occupy my thoughts every once in a while and then i just have to stand there thinking about desperate little gyu whining while a teacher is talking. will change your life, 10/10 recommend

pussy sport by @duhnova ; BSK

"synopsis: leave it up to boo seungkwan to almost suffocate between your thighs, eat you out till you’re crying, and to figure out a new kink of his."

when i turn 108 and am getting ready to walk off the edge of the earth, and they ask me my secret to living so long i'll think back to this fic and smile, and then suddenly i'll be brought back to life. it's this serious. every once in a while someone on the svthub server remembers it exists again and goes feral. and i completely fucking agree, we should be going feral over boo seungkwan 24/7. to not be feral over boo seungkwan and this fic is a cardinal sin, and not the sexy kind.

[pluckysidekick]

It’s Wednesday, my fellow Drewds! Going into the holidays I can’t help thinking about how our favorite Crew are celebrating the holidays. Can’t wait for all of the @secretsleuthexchange fics, gifsets, and fanvids we’re going to get!

In the meantime, I was inspired by a poll from @burningblake about which classic “standard” song best represents Nace (all excellent choices). I wound up making a Season 4 playlist of standards from the Great American Songbook, and a few other classic tracks, that represent their Season 4 journey for me. If you’re interested in this sort of thing, here we go!

I’ll be linking the Spotify tracks, but you should be able to find them all on Apple Music or YouTube. If you want a link to the full playlist, just hit me up here or on Discord.

1. The Nearness of You - This Hoagy Carmichael classic brings to mind Nancy and Ace’s inability to stay apart every time they’re near each other in Episode 401 🥺. I love the Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong duet, but I picked Norah Jones’ version from her 2002 debut album because it’s just so perfectly wistful.

2. Is You Is or Is You Ain’t My Baby - this so so cool track was written by Louis Jordan, but I first heard it on Tom and Jerry (that’s the fighting cat and mouse cartoon in case you’re too young to remember them). I immediately envision the back and forth argument Nancy and Ace have throughout Episode 402 in the lyrics of this song. Ace just wants to know! I adore Joe Jackson’s version, but I went with Dinah Washington and Quincy Jones from 1956 because it is absolutely perfect.

3. Night and Day - I like to imagine that Nancy and Ace stayed up all night talking at the end of 402. This song perfectly embodies their relationship at this stage 🥹. It was written by Cole Porter for Fred Astaire to sing in the original ‘The Gay Divorce’ Broadway musical (catch the film, a classic Fred and Ginger madcap musical romcom with such amazing dancing🕺🏼). But I had to go with Frank Sinatra from 1957’s ‘A Swingin Affair’ because it’s such a classic swing tune.

4. April in Paris - I’m not crying, you’re crying. Warning, there’s going to be a lot of crying in this playlist. Nancy telling Ace the story of her parents’ honeymoon in Paris in Episode 403, that shy smile when she tells him she always wanted to recreate it with someone, GAH. I had to pick the wonderful Sarah Vaughan with Clifford Brown on trumpet, simply exquisite. I’m going to have to take a break to sob quietly in the corner. “What have you done to my heart” indeed.

5. Fever - There was only one song, and only one version of this song, that matches the heat Nancy and Ace generated in the infamous Sigil scene. Peggy Lee burned the house down in 1958 with this track. “What a lovely way to burn” - Nancy can relate.

6. So in Love - Another genius Cole Porter song, written originally for Kiss Me Kate, but sung here by the incomparable Ella Fitzgerald (my personal hero). I had to pick it for THE KISS. They are just so in love 😭. A beautiful song and a beautiful rendition worthy of Nancy and Ace’s love. The fact that Kiss Me Kate is a musical about bickering exes who eventually find love again makes it even more perfect.

7. Crying - Roy Orbison, 1962. Need I say more? I may never recover from the final scene of 403. This song at least helps a little with the pain by naming it. Roy hits some insane notes in this song—the intensity matches both Nancy and Ace’s misery in that moment.

8. Good Morning, Heartache - More like Good Morning, Sorbet. In Episode 404, Nancy drowns her sorrows in her favorite frozen dessert to deal with the heartache of gaining and losing Ace. And no one does heartache like Billie Holiday, who recorded this song in 1946. Heartache haunts Nancy all throughout S4, and this track represents it perfectly.

9. I had two contenders for the Nace scenes in Episode 405, both from the early 60’s. I Fall to Pieces, released by Patsy Cline and The Jordanaires in 1961, was a country crossover and Patsy’s number one hit—an incredible track that embodies Nancy’s emotions on seeing Ace again. She can’t even look him the eye at the beginning of the episode. Which brings me to my other choice, Walk on By, written by Hal David and Burt Bacharach, and famously sung by Dionne Warwick in 1964. Nancy puts up a brave front for most of this episode, but inside she wants to break down and cry.

10. Episode 405’s speed dating montage is one of my favorite scenes of Season 4. Again I have two contenders—why should I have to choose? Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer’s One For My Baby (and One More for the Road), as sung by Ella Fitzgerald (again ‘cause she’s the best), is an ideal soundtrack for Nancy’s increasingly desperate descent as she spends every would-be speed date talking about Ace and THAT KISS. Equally appropriate is Billy Strayhorn’s Lush Life—velvet-voiced Johnny Hartman and saxophonist John Coltrane’s 1963 track positively drips with ennui, elegantly over cocktails, of course. If you’ve never heard this one, please give it a listen. There’s even a mention of a week in Paris 🥺.

11. Episode 406, with the infamous Spider Prom, is Ace’s episode IMO—we finally get to see how he’s dealing with the loss of the love of his life and his best friend. He so desperately wants to somehow get back to being friends with Nancy, he resorts to spending countless hours with the help of S4 MVP Nick trying to catch Chunky Velez for her. Can’t We Be Friends? is the perfect song for him in this episode, gorgeously sung by Ella and Louis. That is, until he spies Nancy and Tristan dancing, and realizes what he can never have. Etta James’ blistering track I’d Rather Go Blind captures Ace’s feelings in that moment. He may have been the one to halt their attempts to brake the curse, but he’s hurting just as much as Nancy is.

12. I’ve got two seminal songs to represent Episode 407. When Nancy realizes that Ace let Chunky go, and hears his admission that seeing her with Tristan hurt, it positively screams Cry Me a River. No, not the Justin Timberlake song 😅. This epic torch song was famously sung by Julie London in 1955, and expresses beautifully Nancy’s scorn at Ace’s hypocrisy even as she admits that he broke her heart.

Their fight, and Nancy’s subsequent dashed hopes that Ace would call her bluff and come back, makes me think of Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye. Another Cole Porter masterpiece sung by Ella. What can I say? You can’t top perfection:

Every time we say goodbye, I die a little Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little Why the gods above me, who must be in the know Think so little of me, they allow you to go

I dare you to listen to this track without weeping over the Nace of it all. Enjoy!

Well, Drewds, we’re just past the halfway mark of Season 4 and this post is already a novel, so I’m going to stop here for now. What did you think of my picks? Any you think I missed?

I’ll do a Part 2 as long as I get a few notes on this one 😂 . It will feature more classic songs that represent Nancy and Ace as they head into the back half of the season. I know it’s going to get rough ahead, but I promise the music will be sweet.

Update: Part 2 is here!

[eldritch-spouse]

OH THE SWEET SWEET TASTE OF ANGST 👌🏻

Since I adore torturing your ocs, guess it’s Adelo’s turn now... it’s only fair to even out the heartache

(I still really lov- I MEAN totally only like like your characters Pinnie. Keep up the amazing work, don’t forget to drink water, and take breaks)

It’d been a year since Adrul lost his beloved. Adelo tried - He tried so hard to be there for his brother, if only to let Adrul know that he wasn’t alone, but Adelo couldn’t help ease the pain; Instead watching his younger sibling become a hollow spiteful king. 

In the time since the murder, the angel had met someone. Not some kiss-up that wanted power or a faceless one night stand. They were the light of his life, a comfort in the dark, his last ray of hope in this unforgiving world.

...

It happened while the prince was away conversing with Mother Miara about a surprise gift for his hummingbird. A battered, half-hysterical celestial had literally crashed into Mother’s sanctuary to deliver the news. 

Demons, rouge angels, or monsters - it didn’t matter. They’d taken what was his.

.  .  .

From afar it appeared like they were sleeping, if not for the blood soaked clothe above their chest and the dried crimson tears ruining the illusion.

As Adelo held the cooling form of his love the angel wondered what would become of him now that his light was gone...

It appears a rather determined group is going after the humans bonded to the princes. Admin, Belo, Miara, Krulu, and Adrul’s reactions to the unfortunate news?

Belo had previously comforted Adrul and distracted his son from what happened, but this might get the celestial to suggest something be done.

Does Krulu begin to worry for Admin’s safety? Is this possibly the work of a Higher that discovered his existence? 

Miara has now witnessed her Shard’s sons become cruel imitations of their former selves - Does Miara begin to worry for her own Charm too? 

*cough  hypothetically if one were to make a Siadar what characteristics do they have? Specifically the caste in charge of ‘serious cleanups’ - Not that I’m thinking of making one.... if it’s okay? *cough

[Please check the pinned post to know if you want to make a character or not. Visit some masterlists to decipher key traits of siadar. "Serious cleanups" can belong to all casts depending on what you mean. If it involves violence of any kind you're more than likely dealing with a Protector. But there's nothing to say a thoroughly pissed creator couldn't do such.]

[I don't have as much steam for this one, gomen. Again, I stress that these scenarios are very unrealistic.]

Adelo's reaction is nowhere near as calm as you'd guess.

Unlike his brother, he's exploding immediately. He's violently, uncontrollably exploding towards anyone and everyone. So much so that Miara has to transport the two of them immediately away, because he killed two angels with his first scream and mortally wounded another three with the swipe of his expanding wings. Too much damage... Even after he's stopped moving and gone into a paralyzed, almost disassociative state, Miara knows he hasn't calmed down. And knowing Adelo's nature, he won't be calming down anytime soon.

Adelo loses his mind. It's not just violence that he uses to drown his sorrows, but levels of deep illusions that let everyone know he's absolutely insane as he speaks out loud amidst his fantasies of nothing having gone wrong. He doesn't touch your burial grounds, but neither does anyone else. In fact, Adelo starts shaking erratically if he gets too close, because he can't exactly pretend you're alive and "back home", when he's looking at your thomb.

It absolutely does matter who did this, because it will dictate the reactions of his parents, brother and others.

Nevertheless, fear is the last thing someone like Krulu or Miara can feel. Their chosen ones are untouchable.

[renee-writer]

I found myself trying to hold back big tears as I was reading and really thinking about Mary recently.

Mary witnessed much of the horrific abuse her son endured that Friday.

Things no mother should ever have to even imagine, let alone witness.

Powerless and helpless, what could she do?

I imagine her running after him, easily willing to give her life to protect the man she held as a baby boy. The one who had her heart.

I imagine those with her holding her back as she sobbed, reminding her she could do absolutely nothing to protect her son.

She followed Jesus and the crowd up the hill to where He was nailed to a cross.

John 19:30 says, “When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciples whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “here is your mother”. From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”

This is where I could no longer hold the tears in.

Because typically when I think about this story, my heart aches for Mary.

But when I read this, I saw Jesus, the man, as an actual son.

Who loved his mom.

Who, even though he was hung on a cross in the type of pain and agony we can not imagine…

He wanted to leave knowing she was taken care of.

He didn’t look around and make sure everyone else had someone to look after them- in that moment- it was his mom He was worried about.

I think this touched me so much, because sometimes I forget how human Jesus was, you know?

A baby who was held and nursed by her, a boy who was nurtured by her, and now a man who knew the love and comfort of His mom..

He had to say goodbye to her, and even as He was dying, He saw her. I can only imagine the heartache of our real-human-Jesus.

Perhaps you are watching a parent, or child, or someone you love suffer.

I just want to remind you.. you with the broken heart, you carrying the heavy burdens, you who feels broken..

This is Jesus. Fully human. Fully understanding of our emotions because He actually experienced them.

He’s also fully God. So when He meets you in your sorrow, He can do what other people can’t.

I just wanted you to know that He isn’t “too divine” to understand what you’re going through.

He’s not out of touch with our experiences.

Just look at how He loved His mom.

~Kelli Bachara

[sweetest-florida-blue-peach]

Southern Roots Series:

Song: Why'd You Come In Here Lookin' Like That

Artist: Dolly Parton

Characters for Scenario: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

{{And before y'all come at me with your pitchforks and torches, HE IS AGED UP, so stop clutching your pearls and quit looking at me like I scandalized a nun}}

Warnings: None that I can think of other than Bakugou's usual potty mouth. Part of the scenario takes place in a bar, so there are mentions of alcohol and drinking, and cigarettes. Not sure if any of these are relevant for a warning, but I'm adding them just in case. Oh, and breakup angst, because, why not?

Notes: Tried to keep the reader GN. Concept is almost entirely from Reader’s perspective, so lots of usage of the pronoun ‘you’. Bartender calls Reader “sugar, hon, darlin’,” etc. Bartender is ‘she/her’. {Bartender is my self-insert, and no, this post was not intended to be all about her, but she is integral to the underlying story}. Uses they/them pronouns when discussing Reader. If I slipped up anywhere, politely tell me, and I’ll go back and edit.

Word Count: Bruh, I ain't got the mental capacity to count right now 🤣😭

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

For @trashpotatoess.

Sloane, my love, my darlin', my dearest, my wonderful friend--I am so, so, SO sorry for the lateness of this, and doubly sorry if it’s absolute garbage, but I sincerely hope you enjoy your requested scenario. 💙

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

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Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The bass of whatever song is croaking through the speakers is doing nothing to help the ache that’s been building up in your head for the last few days. Between that and the seemingly never-ending hangover, your brain was constantly pounding against your skull. 

It’s been three months. Three months of tears, anger, denial, depression, alcohol, and mornings where you struggled to get out of bed. Three months of staring at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping for a notification from him. You had thrown it at your bedroom wall in a fit of rage after he had texted you for the last time asking for his things back. One half of you wished that you’d never deleted your social media, but you did it because you were prone to stalking his account, and you were glad you did. You were downright terrified of what you might find on there. Or who you might find on there. The other half wished that he’d text again, perhaps even be so courteous as to call. Just so you could answer and tell him to go to hell before hanging up. 

Three months of this back-and-forth war with yourself was about to drive you absolutely insane, as was the thought of spending another aimless night holed up in your apartment. So you did the logical thing. You came to the only decent bar Yuuie had to offer and were drinking your sorrows away--for the eighth time this month.

As you down your second drink of the night, you stare down at the brim of your empty glass, mulling over how you found yourself here. A pair of crimson eyes, ash-blonde hair, and a devil-may-care smile flash through your mind. Sighing, you lean your elbows on the bar, bringing your fingertips up to your temples to massage them, trying to rid yourself of some of the discomfort.

The worst part about the breakup wasn’t actually the breakup itself. Sure, there was the screaming and the arguing before he eventually hopped in his truck and left you in a cloud of dust, but that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was the fact that everyone knew about it almost as soon as it happened. And it’s all anyone had been gossiping about. For weeks. So even if you wanted to try and forget and move on, you couldn’t. The price and curse of living in a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and you have no kind of privacy whatsoever. You couldn’t even nurse your heartache behind closed doors because someone was always dropping by your place to “check up on you”. 

It also didn’t help that your ex was practically famous. A traveling bull rider and Yuuie rodeo champion for the last six consecutive years, he’d made quite a name for himself.

His rodeo stage name was ridiculous. 

The Great Explosion Murder God and his equally explosive steed, Dynamight. 

That was the title the papers had graced him with after his amazing win on the bull riding portion of the rodeo. No one expected him to last eight seconds on Yuuie’s most notorious bull, Samson. Samson was the bull that put more cowboys out of commission than any farm accident ever could. But your ex craved challenges just as much as he craved the sweet taste of nicotine in his favorite cigarettes. So he rode Samson. And hung on for twenty-three seconds before being flung off. He’d been the town hero ever since. 

Around rodeo season, everywhere you looked, pictures of TGEMG could be seen on every visible window, telephone poll, and building wall imaginable. But you never saw him as the golden boy of Yuuie. You saw him for who he was. A troublemaker with an explosive temper, as hotheaded and stubborn as Samson the bull. To Yuuie, he was The Great Explosion Murder God. 

But to you? He was simply Katsuki Bakugou.

Just the thought of his name caused a sour taste to build up in your mouth. Running your fingers through your already messy hair, you seriously contemplate banging your head onto the polished bar.

“Can I get you another, sugar?” A sweet voice draws you out of your thoughts. You glance up and see the bartender swiping down the counter with a wet cloth. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy bun, with a few loose strands hanging out here and there. Light, subtle strokes of mascara cling to her lashes, accentuating the color of her eyes, two different hues of brown; the left eye a much lighter shade than the right. 

A black Jameson Irish Whiskey racerback clings to her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure. A delicate silver chain hangs around her neck, an unknown pendant playing hide-and-seek in the plunging neckline of her tank. 

She cuts her mismatched eyes to your glass. “Do you want another, or are you calling it a night?” 

Without a word, you shove it toward her. She raises a questioning brow at your actions, lips quirking up slightly, but to your surprise and thankfulness, she doesn’t say anything else. She just grabs the bottle of your favorite liquor and refills your glass for the third time. As she works, you take a moment to study her. 

She was new in town. Landed a job as a bartender. Quiet, kept to herself. A walking enigma as no one really knew anything about her. Hell, you weren’t even sure what her name was. All anyone knew was that she moved to Yuuie shortly after you and Katsuki had called it quits. But from her accent and manners, you would’ve thought she was a local. She fit in well enough, seeming to belong with the rest of you, as if she’d been here the entire time. 

Setting the glass back in front of you, she gives you a small smile. “Here you go, darlin’.”

You blink once. Twice. You then seem to realize that you still need to pay for your drink. Snapping out of your daze, you reach into your pocket to pull out your wallet. Your fingertips barely brush the stash of bills you have tucked away when the bartender shakes her head. 

“On the house, hon.”

You stare incredulously at her. She shrugs, grabbing up empty beer bottles. “You look like you need it.” 

You wince as the coolness of the glass seeps into your palms. “That obvious, huh?” 

She snorts, wiping down the counter again before throwing the towel over her shoulder. “I’m a bartender; it’s my business to be observant. Kinda part of the job description.” Brushing back the stray hairs dangling in her face, she sticks out a hand. “I’m Blue.”

This time, it’s your turn to raise a brow. “Blue? Like the color?”

An expression settles on her face as if she’s in another place, another time, but she doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it or even ask what she’s thinking about. The look disappears almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a wistful smile. “Exactly like the color.”

“That’s not your real name is it?” You ask. Again, you lived in a small town. And small towns came with a variety of names. Some were vintage, a little older but still respectable: Beau, Imogen, Pearl, and Edmund. Others were very Southern: Cash, Oakley, Easton, Wes, and anything that ended in ‘Lynn’. And then there were the off-the-wall ones like Cooter, Gator, Coon, Younique, Texas, Amarillo, and a few others that were just plain ridiculous. All in all, Blue wasn’t too bad a name to be saddled with.

She shakes her head, a small chuckle rumbling through her. “No. It’s....a nickname. Well, one of them. Two different nicknames gifted from two very different people. Blue and Peach.”

“Peach?” The dubiousness of your tone causes her to throw her head back and laugh. 

“A long story from a lifetime ago. I got so used to them when I was younger that I sometimes wouldn’t respond to my actual name. Feel free to call me either. I’ll respond to both, but if I’m being honest, Blue is my preferred choice.” 

Stretching out your arm, you take her hand in yours, giving it a firm shake. “Well, nice to meet you then, Blue.”

Her eyes sparkle, wrapping her fingers around yours. “Likewise.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Even though the clock on your phone reads only a quarter past ten, the tavern was nearly jam-packed with patrons.

Several people crowd the bar. Few were playing pool or making bets on a game of darts. Others had paired off and were line-dancing on the dance floor to whatever playlist Present Mic had geared up for the evening.

Laughter bubbles in your chest as you take another shot. You were tipsy, borderline drunk, your giggles growing louder and louder, everything becoming funnier by the second. You were finally beginning to unwind and relax a little.

Okay, you had relaxed A LOT.

Blue made you hand over your keys after your fourth shot of vodka. When you tried protesting, she silenced you with a glare that nearly rivaled your mother’s.

“I’ll give you a lift when my shift ends. Until then, these,” she jangled your keys in front of your face before dropping them into a glass jar that she stashed behind the counter, “are staying with me.” 

You begrudgingly but gratefully accepted, especially as you were aware of the way Sheriff Enji Todoroki had been cracking down on drunk driving lately. You didn’t want to take any chances of getting thrown in the slammer and giving the town yet another reason to talk about you. The breakup was enough fuel to keep the fires going for a good long while.

To keep yourself from reliving the event and becoming a blubbering mess, you impulsively decided to ask Blue to tell you about herself.

She gave you a look that you couldn't quite perceive before sucking in her bottom lip and whistling to her partner.

"Neijire! I'm taking ten."

Your eyes travel in the direction of Blue's attention, landing on the bouncing figure of the other bartender. She wore nearly an identical outfit to Blue’s, but her shirt was more strategically ripped to bare more skin and bore the Jack Daniels logo instead of Jameson. She was happily putting a hefty bill into the Tip Jar, but Blue's words turned her mouth down into a pout.

"You're just now taking a break? Blue!" Neijire scolds, throwing a rag at the back of Blue's head. "You need to take your breaks as they come. Being on your feet for hours gets real exhausting real fast. I don't need you burnt out during your shifts."

Blue gives her a sarcastic salute while Neijire just rolls her eyes. She reaches across the counter, grabbing a pen, scribbling something down on a notepad. Ripping the paper cleanly off, she shoves it into Blue's hand, her golden eyes glittering in the low lights of the bar.

"Go ahead and give this to FatGum. He'll whip up something for you in the back. Take all your missed breaks and get yourself some dinner too. I don't want you back behind this counter until you've eaten something, you hear?"

“Neijire-chan! Can I get another over here, sweetheart?” One of the patrons calls, holding their glass up.

Neijire winks at you both, tucking back a curly lock of lavender-purple hair. “Welcome! What can I get y’all started with?” 

Blue limbos under the ‘employees only’ trapdoor and plops herself beside you on a cushy barstool, grinning. "What do you wanna know?"

"Anything,” you answer, slamming your shot glass down after swigging the contents. “Do you like living in Yuuie? What's your name? What's your sign? When's your birthday? Do you have any tattoos? Have you ever done anything illegal?" The questions were pouring out of you like water from a leaking spicket.

Blue laughs as she hands off her meal ticket to one of the passing waiters, setting it on top of his empty serving tray. "Thanks, Mirio!” 

The blonde bows at the waist, a thousand gigawatt smile flashing. “A pleasure, Miss Blue.” 

She waves him off, shaking her head at him and his antics before turning back to you. “This sounds more like an interrogation than a getting-to-know-you icebreaker."

"Well, it's not only me that's curious. The whole town has been abuzz about you since you got here. You're like a mystery novel with no ending."

Blue's face scrunches up in disbelief. "I'm an open book! Hit me."

“Do you have any pets?”

Her entire face lights up when you ask her that.

"Do you wanna see my cat?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

And that’s how you found yourself about an hour later, learning everything there was to know about the elusive new bartender.

She whipped out her phone, showing you pictures of a tiny white kitten with a splotched black tail and scattered salt and pepper patches on her face and back. For reasons unbeknownst to you, she named it Queso Mozzarella but lovingly calls her 'Mozzy' for short. Your heart squeezed at the absolute adorableness.

After Blue put her phone away, she began to tell you about herself, bit by bit. Almost like putting together a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle. 

One of the first things she told you was her favorite flavor. Any and everything peach.

"I actually got the nickname 'Peach' when I was in elementary school because I always brought a fresh peach for lunch, even when they weren't in season."

She despises oranges, mainly because she's allergic to them.

"I swell up like a Goodyear Blimp. It ain't very comely."

She likes chocolate milk, mozzarella sticks, forget-me-not flowers, 80's movie soundtrack music, and her favorite color is blue (real surprise there).

"Told you, I'm an open book."

But the thing that shocked you the most was when you discovered that your previous assumption about her had been right. She did grow up in Yuuie.

"Born and raised."

"Then why did you move away?"

Blue fiddles with the basket of fries that came with her mountain of a burger. She’d polished off most of her food, playing with the remaining bits she couldn’t quite eat. Mirio dropped it off earlier, as well as a giant glass of sweet tea. He had playfully ruffled her hair despite Blue's protests before disappearing back into the sea of dancing bodies. 

 "My dad was in the military. He ended up getting promoted to a higher rank and stationed in another country the winter I became a junior. He packed us up and moved us overseas before I could finish the year out." A heavy sigh escapes her lips. She picks up a French fry, dipping it into a small bowl of ranch dressing. That was yet another thing you learned about her: she hated eating ketchup with her fries.

It drops back onto the checkered parchment paper in the plastic basket. 

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

You slightly sober up at the sadness in her tone. However, before you or she could say anything else, a frazzled-looking Neijire rushes to y'all's end of the bar. "Blue, it's the Pre-Midnight Rush. I need some help back here."

Blue nods. “On my way, darlin’.” She wipes her hands on her jeans, standing.  

“Back to work, then.” She pushes the basket towards you. "Here. You should eat something to soak up all that alcohol you've been drinking."

You take it, deciding to heed her advice. She rounds the bar, walking to the sink to wash her hands before clocking back in.

“Hey, y’all,” she greets the fresh flood of customers alongside Nejire. “Pick your poisons.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"So why did you come back?" You shout at her over the pumping bass. Present Mic turned the tunes over to his DJ in training, Kyoka Jirou around midnight. The later it got, the louder the music became. And Jirou seemed to prefer it that way.

Blue vigorously shakes a silver canister before pouring a pink margarita into a salted glass. She throws a cherry in the middle of it, topping it off with a sliced lime before handing it off to the person who ordered it.

"My gramma is sick," she answers, shoveling ice into a few glasses. "I'm the only person willing to come take care of her."

Blue didn't seem too keen on delving into details, and you were smart enough to take the silent hint and not ask. You’re nursing your eleventh, maybe twelfth drink? as she steers the conversation away to lighter subjects.

She regales you with a story of how the town flirt and electrician, Denki Kaminari, shocked himself on an electric pole after he tried hitting on her as she was walking home with her groceries the other day. 

“He kept giving me a thumbs up from the back of the ambulance and muttering ‘yay’. I feel so bad but I couldn’t help but laugh at him,” Blue chuckles as she polishes another pint glass before putting it on the shelf. “Bless his heart.”

“Sounds like a typical day for him.” You slur, a hiccup escaping your lips. “He gets electrocuted so much that everyone in Yuuie calls him Sparky.” You chug back the rest of your bourbon, belching loudly. “Except for Jirou. She calls him ‘Jammingyay’.” 

Blue gently pries the glass from your hand. “Jammingyay? Well, that’s certainly creative. I always used to call him Pikachu.” She places it in the sink, eliciting a drunken whine from you. “Sorry, sugar. I’m officially cutting you off. You’re three sheets to the wind.”

“Am not,” you insist, but your vision blurs and you aren’t sure which Blue you’re looking at. The one on the left or the one on the right. Both of them frown at you. 

“Yeeeeaaah, definitely time to call it quits. You’re as full as a tick on a bloodhound.” 

You burst into a deep belly laugh at her euphemism. Your laughter ends, as does the song that had been playing. Some rough feedback from the speakers grabs everyone’s attention, as well as the tap-tap-tapping of someone’s finger against a microphone.  

“Alrighty, y’all. It’s that time of the night. Karaoke hour,” Jirou announces, stirring up the crowd as they erupt into a fit of cheerful hollers. “You know the rules. Take a number, pick a song, and sing your little drunk hearts out.” Jirou places a couple of spare mics on her counter as a slew of girls immediately rush her DJ station. 

You scoff. “Who would wanna do something as dumb as karaoke?”

Blue flips a bottle behind her back, catching it before filling up a row of shot glasses. She takes out a lighter from her pocket, flicking it before setting the row on fire. They burn for a couple of seconds before she whips out two coffee mugs, setting them over the shots one at a time. After the flames die down, she passes them out to awaiting patrons. 

“I dabble in it from time to time. It’s a good way to get your emotions out or feelings across.” 

“You’re joking, right?”

She shrugs. “To each their own. We all cope in different ways.”

You feel the corner of your mouth twitch. 

“Blue! I need a pitcher of sangria and three whiskey sours!” Neijire shouts the orders as she places more bills into the Tip Jar and rings up tabs. 

Blue sighs, glancing up at you from under her lashes. “Never a moment of peace around here, I’ll tell ya that.” 

As she makes her way to Neijire, you replay her words over and over in your head.

‘We all cope in different ways.’ 

The first song gears up on the karaoke machine, lyrics displayed on an ancient projector screen. Familiar chords of a song you loved singing on long road trips start to filter out of the speakers, and the soft, subtle backup vocals of Dolly Parton croon in your ears.

You had no idea who was currently butchering one of the best songs (in your opinion) that Dolly Parton ever created, but you couldn’t help but want to sing along.

“Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that? Here comes my baby, draggin' my heart behind. He's drivin' me crazy! Who says love is blind? He's got a wanderin' eye and a travelin' mind, big ideas and a little behind. Out with a different woman every night, but I remember when he was mine.” 

And how had you been coping? Not moving from your couch in several days, refusing to change out of your ratty pajamas. Hygiene had been a foreign concept during the first week or so after you and Katsuki had called it quits. You didn’t shower. You didn’t bother putting on a new outfit. You hardly opened your blinds, reveling in your misery in the dark. Netflix should have sent you a medal for watching nearly every romcom known to man on their streaming platform, all while sobbing into your ice cream cartons. You deactivated every platform of social media from your phone because you didn’t want to see how happy he was without you and didn’t want to give yourself any opportunities to fall into a deeper spiral of stalking his accounts. You chose to send your liver into an early grave and your bank account into the red with how often you frequented the bars and dives around town, doing your best to forget him.

How he smelled: like burnt sugar and salty caramel. How he tasted. How it felt when he held you in his arms. Like you were the only person he wanted to touch. To kiss. To love.

“Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your high heel boots and painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Waltzing right in here lookin' like that. Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? When you could stop traffic in a gunny sack. Why you're almost givin' me a heart attack! When you waltz right in here lookin' like that I just can't stand it. To see him on the town, he's out slow dancing with every girl around. I'm a softhearted woman; he's a hardheaded man, and he's gonna make me feel just as bad as he can. He's got himself a mean streak a half a mile wide Now he's dancing on this heart of mine.” 

You feel as if the song is directed at you. Like an evil version of Cupid crawled from the depths of hell just to play with your already broken heart strings. That, or the person singing just had it out for you. Either way, each word hit you like a slap to the face.

“Ooh, Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your high heel boots painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream.Why'd you come in here lookin' like that?”

Tears stung your lower eyelids as the song ended and the crowd exploded in whooping applause. 

Maybe whoever just got off the stage was in the same boat as you. Still in the tender stages of a splintered heart, trying to figure out how to put the pieces together. Perhaps that was their way of doing their best to move on and start fresh.

‘We all cope in different ways.’

How had you been coping?

Not well. Not well at all. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Darlin’? Darlin’, you still with me?” A gentle shake to your shoulders startles you, causing you to jump a little. Blue retracts her hand. She meekly tips her head. “Sorry to wake you, sweet pea, but I’m nearin’ the end of my shift.”

You yawn, rubbing some of the sleep out of your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two. You fell asleep about thirty minutes ago.”

You grimace, rolling your neck from side to side. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. If we had a decent taxi service or some type of Lyft or Uber, I would’ve gotten you one a while ago. Let me just get a few of these stragglers and then I’ll take ya on home, okay?” 

You yawn again. “Thanks, Blue.” 

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.”

“No,” you blurt out. She stops in her tracks and stares at you. “It’s not.”

“It’s just a ride home. I ain’t really doin' much, sweet pea.”

“It is a big thing.” You insist. “It’s a really big thing. Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “No, really, darlin’, it’s--”

“You’re the only person that hasn’t treated me like I’m made of glass.”

There’s a heavy, pregnant pause.

“Well, why on earth would I do that?”

“Because he broke up with me.” Damn you for drinking so much. You always were a bit of a talker when you got more than two sips of alcohol in you. You lost count of how much you consumed this evening, and now you were no better than the town’s gossip columnist who went under the alias of Mount Lady. Here you were, bearing your heart and soul to someone you didn’t even know, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

Blue tilts her head to the side, her eyes searching yours. “Who broke up with you, sweet pea?”

A bitter laugh nearly chokes you as it collides with the sob rising in the back of your throat. The same tears you tried keeping at bay earlier decide to form a prison break and escape the confines of your eyelids, slipping down your cheeks. 

“The Great Explosion Murder God of Yuuie, Katsuki Bakugou.”

You weren’t sure if it was the strobe lights coming from the dancefloor or the way your tears caused impairment of your already compromised vision, but you could have sworn in that moment that Blue blanched. 

“Ka...Katsuki....Bakugou?”

“Yeah,” you swipe at your eyes with the heel of your hand, sucking snot back in before it could drip from your runny nostrils. 

“I’m...I’m so sorry, darlin’.” 

She says it with so much sincerity that you know she means it. Truly means it. Not like the other people in town who said it to you so flippantly. No. Blue was different. And maybe that’s why you felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with her, sans all the alcohol running through your system. Because Blue had something a lot of folks in Yuuie didn’t. A sense of realness.

And that was something you needed right now. A real friend.

“I hate to leave you like this, darlin’, but I gotta finish these orders. Will you be okay for a few minutes by yourself?” Blue apologizes, handing you some napkins. You take one and angrily blow your nose. 

���I’ll be fine.”

Blue’s upper teeth knaw at her bottom lip as she looks at you, skepticism written all over her face. 

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Okay....I shouldn’t be longer than fifteen minutes. We’ll leave right after that.” She reaches up on the shelf to pull down some beer steins, ready to run them under the taps. Once they were filled to the brim, foam spilling down the sides, Blue slides the beer down to Neijire for her to pass on to the people who ordered them.

“Blue?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Thank you.”

A small burst of air leaves her nose as her face relaxes enough to gift you with a gentle smile. She opens her mouth to reply to you, but the sound of the double Western-style saloon doors draws her from the conversation.

“Welcome!” Blue shouts over her shoulder. “We’re fixin’ to get ready for last call soon. What can I--” 

Shattering glass can be heard in the quiet pause between music selections. 

“Blue!” Neijire hurries over to her coworker, mindful not to step on the broken pieces. “Are you okay?”

You glance up to see Blue’s wide eyes staring at something behind you. You assume her concerned gaze is directed at whoever just came in. Her skin pales, and you see her visibly gulping. “Oh, sugar honey iced tea...”

Neijire follows her line of sight. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. 

“Uh oh.”

Her eyes dart from you, to behind you, to you, to behind you again. She snatches the towel out of Blue’s hands, firmly shaking her as if trying to snap her out of her daze. 

“Blue, you’re shift is over. Go home.” Neijire says in a tone you’ve never heard come from her before. “Tamaki and Mirio can help me with the mess, but you should go. You need to go.” 

You stare at the two of them in bewilderment. Why were they looking at you like that? 

The stomping of boots encroaches on your space, coming closer with each step. 

“Cat got your tongue, dumbass? What the hell are you starin’ at me for?”

All the blood in your body turns to ice at the sound of a gruff, grating voice. One you were all too familiar with. One you hoped you’d never have to hear again. Not since the day he left you in a cloud of dust, never to look back.

Blue is in front of you in a millisecond, seemingly teleporting from one end of the bar to the other. “Hon, I’m clockin’ out now. Grab your stuff and we can go.” Blue reaches under the counter to grab your keys. But you don’t move. You can’t. You’re glued to your seat, your hands shaking. 

“Leavin’? I just got here! Neijire, what the hell kinda service is this?” The voice draws closer until it’s directly behind you. A hand slams down on the surface of the counter, right next to you, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “I swear this town ain’t got nothing fuckin’ going for it anymore.” 

You try swallowing, but the lump in your throat won’t allow anything past it. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t. Look. Up.

“Service can be refused if the occasion calls for it and the occasion is callin’ for it. My shift is over and I’m headin’ on to the house. You need somethin’ you ask Neijire and you ask her politely.” Blue huffs, irritation and disdain coating every word. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? My mother? I already got one old hag harpin’ on me day and night. I don’t need another.”

“I ain’t old and don’t you dare talk about your mama that way, Katsuki Bakugou. I will call her and tell her you’re causin’ trouble again. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Still the same ole’ tattletale, aren’t you, Blue? Even after all these years, you ain’t changed a bit.” He pauses, but you can hear the salacious grin in his tone. “Well, parts of you have.” 

A resounding slap echoes in the air and you hear several gasps. Your eyes fly open to see Blue almost climbed over the bar, her arm raised high, palm a burning red. In your peripheral, your ex is hunched over, fingers pressed to the side of his face.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Explosion Boy. You never did. Don’t pretend like you do now.” You hear betrayal, hurt, and a slight tremble in her words. You stare at her.

Did they know each other?

But just as you opened your mouth to ask the silent question, the familiar sound of your keys clinking together snags your attention away from the scene unraveling beside you. 

“Come on, sugar. I’ll drop you off.” Blue tells you, lifting up the trapdoor of the bar before closing it behind her. 

A hand shoots out, clamping down on her upper arm. Her eyes shoot daggers at the person it’s attached to. 

“Off in such a hurry, Blue? Always willin’ to start a fight, but ain’t ever willin’ to finish it. I was right. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Get your hands off me before I have Tetsu knock you on your arrogant, conceited, spoiled little Southern ass.”

“Hah? That extra? Please. He wouldn’t last two seconds.” He tugs on her arm, trying to draw her closer, but his elbow knocks you in the back of the head. You weren’t expecting the impact, so it’s no surprise to you when you fall clean off your barstool. 

You crash to the ground in a graceless, drunken fashion. You hear Blue call your name, several people shouting, (all of their insults and anger directed at your ex), and three or more pairs of hands reaching down to help you to your feet. However, one set is faster than the others. Warm calloused fingers encircle your wrist, yanking you up off the floor. 

“Don’t toss them around like a ragdoll. Lord above, Bakugou. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve got anything up in that spiky head of yours. Then again, if your brain was leather, you probably wouldn’t have enough to saddle a Junebug.”

“Shut the hell up, you fuckin’ extra.”

“Don’t you swear at me.”

“I’ll do whatever I so fuckin’ please.”

Blue pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “You could make a bishop mad enough to kick in stained glass windows with that outhouse of a mouth.”

You want to laugh. Really you do. The entire situation is like something you’d read from a tacky fanfiction, or would be a terrible scenario for one of your cheesy romcoms. You’re on the floor while your ex and new friend are above you, bickering back and forth like an old married couple. 

It’s like a trashy Southern soap opera. With a Dolly Parton soundtrack to boot.  

However, your entire world comes to a standstill when a pair of furious ruby eyes stare into yours. 

Katsuki Bakugou.

His forehead is crinkled into those grumpy lines you slowly grew to love, once upon a time. Bits of his hay-colored hair poke out from beneath a black cowboy hat. He’s wearing a dark button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, displaying his muscular arms. A clean pair of Levi’s cling to his legs and ass, perfectly sculpting the body worthy of a mythological god. 

So maybe there was some semblance of sense to his rodeo stage name. The god part at least. Because honestly, looking that fine should be considered a sin. You suck in your bottom lip, a not-so-subtle attempt to make sure that you’re not drooling.

Damn, boy. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He all but yells at you, giving you a hard shake. 

The lyrics from the song from earlier dance around in your mind as your eyes drift down to his custom-designed cowboy boots. Black with bright orange X’s running across the front of them and olive green grenade emblems stitched to the sides near the top.

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

“Did you hear me, or are you deaf now? I said, what the hell are you doing here?”

Your mouth works faster than your brain. 

“Getting over you.”

His eyes widen, and for once in his damn life, he seems at a loss for words. 

“W-what?”

“Getting over you. The only way I know how. Because we all cope differently, don’t we, Blue?”

She stares at you with such sadness that it makes you feel guilty for even asking her. 

“I cope by drinking myself into oblivion, and you cope by inviting whoever the fuck you want into our bed. Oops. I mean, your bed.” The words are out before you can even process them, and you can’t take them back, even if you wanted to. Because, again, the more you drink, the more you talk. 

And you drank quite a bit. 

You really, really wish that you had gone through with the plan you first concocted when you first arrived. Because a concussed head was sooooo much better than what you just did. You recall what Blue said the moment that she saw Bakugou enter the bar.

Sugar Honey Iced Tea.

Shit indeed, Blue. Shit indeed.

Bakugou still stares at you, mouth hanging open. You reach over, placing your fingers under his chin, tenderly applying enough pressure that his lips slam together, shutting his mouth. Again, a feat you once thought to be impossible, but hey, you were just full of surprises tonight.  

“Trying to catch flies, ‘Suki? It’s easier if you use honey.” You purr, hand falling to his chest. His heart flutters underneath your fingers. 

“You drunk or somethin’?” He asks, clearing his throat as pink stains his cheeks. 

Giggling, you lean forward, your lips mere inches from his. 

“And if I am? What are you gonna do about it?”

His eyes narrow, glaring down at you. 

“Alright, I’m breaking this up,” Blue announces, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. 

“Katsuki already did that for you,” you giggle, leaning back to look up at him. “Ain’t that right, ‘Suki? Dropped me like a sack of hot potatoes the moment I was no longer of any value to you.”

Bakugou says nothing, lips pressed into a firm, narrow line. 

“Time to go home, sweet pea,” Blue urges you, all but shoving you out the door.

You throw up a casual wave, flipping Bakugou off in the same breath.

“This was fun, ‘Suki, Let’s never do it again.”

And with that, Blue guides you through the double doors, allowing them to swing behind you. Your lungs greedily suck down the cool night air, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your body leans on Blue as she walks you to her truck. 

“Almost there, darlin’,” she assures you with each step. Finally, you’re brought to a halt in front of a navy blue Chevy Silverado. But before Blue can even reach over to open the door, you crumple into a sobbing heap. Your knees slam into the broken asphalt, but you barely register the pain. 

The agony consuming your heart is enough. And after the scene you caused inside, you only gave the town more ammunition to use against you. 

You hated this place. Hated this town. Hated the people in it. Hated him. But most of all, you hated yourself. Hated yourself for still caring about him. For still holding some kind of hope that things would work out and you’d be happy again. 

With him. Just the two of you. Like you always wished it would be. 

A pair of warm arms wrap around you, and you allow yourself to be held as you finally have the breakdown that’s been building up for the last three months.

“It hurts, Blue,” you blubber into her shoulder. “It hurts...so much.”

“I know, sweet pea. I know. And I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She whispers, smoothing down your hair. “He was an ass anyway. Always has been.”

“But he was my ass. And I loved him. I loved him. I loved him.” You repeat, clawing at your chest, desperately trying to reach into the hollow activity of your ribcage and rip your heart out in a pitiful attempt to find some relief, hoping that if you were able to do it, it would make the pain go away.

Blue doesn’t have an answer. No magic cure or spell to help you through this.

But she’s there with you. 

And that was more than you could have ever asked for.

"Why'd he have to show up like that? All decked out in his fancy boots and favorite button up and that hat. That fuckin' hat, Blue." You ask, salty tears dripping down your chin. "Just when I think 'to hell with him, I deserve more and better,' he waltzes on in like a damn movie star and steals my breath away all over again. Despite everything he's ever done, I love him. And I think part of me always will."

You look up at Blue through your haze of tears.

"Why'd he have to come in there lookin' like that?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

IT'S DONE. I HAVE FINISHED. I HAVE COMPLETED THE TASK BEFORE ME. ALL HAIL THE EXHAUSTED BLUE PEACH.

Seriously, I am so thankful that I was finally able to finish this request.

It's currently 2 in the morning my time and this entire scenario is probably flaming garbage that resides in a sewage plant because I wrote most of this half asleep. And before you tell me, yes, I am aware that it looks like the spirit of an 1800s author took hold of me and had a field day using commas for ridiculously long sentences. I KNOW. 

But I had a lot of fun writing this, and if you don't like it, don't read it. It wasn't for you anyway. 😘

I write for my own pleasure and enjoyment, not for the validation of others.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

This is the first scenario of the Southern Roots Series. I will do my best to update as often as I can but life gets busy so don't expect too much out of me.

I really hope y'all enjoyed and I can't wait to write more.

Later, Taters! 💙💙

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[iccarian]

okay bc i figure it’s safe enough now to post about it…here are my tentative canon divergences from the finale until i flesh them out fully <3

agatha does not die, period. she stated explicitly clearly herself that she will die a long long long x2 time from now, because she’s a witch, and because these are the years she can take back after centuries thrown away to grief, to the darkhold. ( she doesn’t see it that way, at least not yet. but she is adaptable and she doesn’t entirely mind not having the darkhold anymore — even if it was the one thing numbing her grief. ) it wouldn’t take a single day of knowing a boy that reminds her of her son for her to become self sacrificial when she has been self preserving to a cruel & selfish extent her entire life. do i think she’d bargain with rio? absolutely. i don’t think agatha has never particularly cared about what’s supposed to be right in the cosmos because she, herself, has always defied all odds and rules. ( that’s what makes you a witch. ) i frankly do not care about comic book easter eggs etc, she didn’t have to die to become billy’s mentor, which i think is a role she secretly would have loved! she’s at her best when she’s teaching, we even saw this with wanda to an extent. give me agatha living her life and popping in to help billy at certain times and also drive him up the walls.

onto the topic of rio: i think agatha’s anger makes sense in that it is her desperate way of not acknowledging the love and heartache she’s been burying for centuries. it’s easier for her to act like she hates rio, to ask never to see her again ( or as in the original script, for rio to retire her form because it’s the rio she fell in love with ohuuhuuhuuu that fucking wrecked me ) because agatha doesn’t do vulnerable, she doesn’t do emotions, not when she has a task at hand. and it’s a hell of a lot easier to pretend rio is simply death, that her grief never had a stake in this. but. the very end, taking one last kiss from her love as she siphons her power to die — that wasn’t it. there was no reconciliation. no true conversation. no resolution for the end of agatha’s path as the three of swords, where she is supposed to face and accept her grief. and i genuinely don’t think it was her time yet lmfao like come on!! neways, i think the fight could have ended in a hundred different ways, one that i like in particular in which agatha acknowledges rio’s hurt, and they like idk. talk. like ex lovers. in their own very messy and begrudgingly communicative fashion.

slightly on topic, i was incredibly unsatisfied with the lack of actual agathario backstory in episode 9. it’s all but confirmed that nicky was their child by some stroke of a cosmic occurrence. i’m willing to explore rio leaving them in peace to give them time, time they never should have had, but i personally like the idea of rio still being there with agatha because hello? they’re wives???

and onto the darkhold! i think agatha acquired it for a multitude of reasons. after nicky, the only thing that made sense to her was power. it was a sound place to bury her rage and heartbreak and also, we know she’s a knowledge seeker. that she’s probably tousled with the sorcerer supreme. she goes places she shouldn’t because she wants to know, because what could possibly be of consequence now? she probably acquired it sometime in the early 1900s, and made a deal to keep it satiated: power and knowledge ( and hiding her from her only love ) in exchange for it siphoning off her own memories of love, of sorrow, etc: it didn’t take them necessarily, but it numbed them. she enjoyed that at the time. she also didn’t let it take her over completely: her soul is most definitely tainted and she dabbled in forbidden magics, relentlessly searched for ways to bring back another soul that didn’t shred it, but she was still largely herself. so, wanda! the scarlet witch! a being of spontaneous creation of chaos magic. how could agatha not crave her power? how could a part of her still not rage against the fabric of the universe, demanding magic that could stitch souls together, fix the dead? and then she was gone, and so was agatha’s magic, and the darkhold, and suddenly for the first time in hundreds of years her grief was palpable and overwhelming. it’s no wonder she projected it onto a young boy with his heart on his sleeve the moment she woke from wanda’s spell.

as for the witches' road con, she definitely knew there was a real one but even that wasn't something agatha dared to dabble in. she let the word spread, though. the song written by her and her son sung by hundreds of witches throughout the centuries. it was a nice little sham to get juice.

anyways all in all! the finale left more questions and i hate it. WHAT’S THE SIGNIFICANCE OF JUNE 2ND? WHEN DID AGATHARIO MEET? HOW LONG DID THEY LOVE EACH OTHER??

[dinosaurchurch]

It's hard to believe that it's been six months since my father passed. Six months ago he would've turned sixty. I won't lie to people, it fucks me up to think at the age I am now that he was half way through his journey.

It's one of those things that I can't help but to think about sometimes, there's a lot of little small reminders of him that I get - things or moments that remind me of my childhood and the more simpler times. All though I know that the man I loved dearly was long gone by the time that he passed, I can't help but to have that sense of longing.

When people tell you that you never truly finish mourning for someone I think this is what they mean. It's the heartache of knowing you're still here and you have to carry on without them that hurts the most. I feel like that about a lot of things; I can't help but to reflect on the journey I've taken so far - of the things, places, and people I've left behind. There's certain things that I've tucked away long ago that sometimes I find myself pondering over, the what ifs of how did that turn out or did the people I used to share my path with heal or change for the better? I'll never know but it still makes me curious.

One of the things that I find when it comes to just getting older in general is knowing that the more you age, so does everyone else and that means that at one point you'll have to say goodbye to them or they will for you. No one knows truly when their time comes not even people who've been given a limited amount. Miracles happen just like tragedies, it's the beauty of life - you can't predict everything. The only thing you can do is better the odds by doing your best to try to strive for the optimal outcome.

There's a lot of emotions that I've had over this whole thing, but like a drop of dye into a pitcher of water - it only gets diluted the more you add - it doesn't go away. I tend not to remember much of the bad regardless of how rocky our relationship was for the past few years, maybe that's part of how soft I've become or just the acceptance of that softness that I tried to hide for the longest while. I understand why things happened the way they did as much as I didn't agree with them but I don't think I have it in me to summon up my vindictiveness like I used to. I'm not that person and I don't want to be that person.

It's interesting how a lot of simple choices add up. That's one thing I think about when it came to my father, he had almost the perfect storm unload upon him for everything that he had done. There was a lot of parallels with how the lack good mental health and self awareness inevitably affected him in the most negative ways possible. I mean he's no longer here to say anything but I think his passing very starkly highlighted his flaws and especially of those around him.

People talk about the person who left but they don't talk typically about the lasting effects it has on the people that are still here. How sometimes it's the fallout of when someone goes that's worse than the actual ordeal of them exiting stage left.

One thing nobody likes to talk about or highlight when it comes to someone's death is how a person handles that stress. I know that I had quite the hurricane of emotions overcome me from anger, bereft, longing, sorrow, and even relief over the whole event. I cared greatly as much as I told myself I didn't. Regardless of what horrible things he did, I didn't want him to suffer but he did.

Witnessing what happened with the rest of my family is part for the emotions I felt as well. A lot of drama surrounded him, and the funny part is he wasn't the catalyst for a portion of it. I don't talk about it much since I mainly stick to myself but there's a divide in my family thanks to the actions of a few. I want to say that everyone can get along but the funeral showcased that wasn't at all possible. It's striking what taking one piece of the puzzle out does. Some people absolutely crumbled under the stress and give way to the worst version of themselves.

I think one of the weirdest things was seeing family I hadn't seen since I was a little girl. Bad events really do call people together, it's like everyone shows up for a moment to help out and when it's over they all scatter back into the dark. I don't know if I'll ever see some of those people again but this has definitely been one of the weirder events I've had the unfortunate pleasure of being a part of.

Between the mudslinging and the outright fit some people threw over this or even the will (which wasn't at all fairly split between anybody but that's another entirely separate rant for another entirely separate time) I can say I want to wipe my hands of this whole mess. Just to step back out of the limelight that I was put in being the oldest out of my siblings since people expected me to say something or take up the responsibilities attached has been refreshing. It's tiring always having people wanting to put more weight on my shoulders like I'm going to take up some of his old mantles or whatever.

Call me cold or callused but I don't care to spend energy trying to glue people back together on that side of the family. I'm done with pretending that I gave a shit, or that I should anyway. If I don't talk to them again then that's fine by me.

I'm tired. That's why I almost felt okay with letting the worst happen. Not like any of this was in my hands in the first place, but a lot of unrest went with my father to the grave and what was left will eventually fizzle out. I'm a-okay with that. Some peace and quiet is what everyone needs here.

Ultimately this whole thing has been sad to see. Watching lines blur of what used to be my younger self's rose coloured vision against what's actually there. I can't help but to long for the more simple day where perhaps ignorance was bliss. The truth is harsh but even with that I much rather know than not.

I wish things could've turned better for everyone but that just isn't possible. Some of it has been entirely unpredictable but what hasn't has had a bit of a karmic effect to which you reap what you sow but I digress. I've said enough so I'll leave it here.

Cheers.

[callmeoceanplease]

A message to my family that they will never see.

To my mother; I wish we could have understood each other better, I wish we could have talked more, had real conversations, been closer, cared and understood and were interested in each other's interests. I wish I wasn't so petty to you, so resentful towards your lack of interest in me and the life I want to live. However, even when we were at odds, I never stopped loving you. You're my mother, how could I not love you?

To my sister; you're five years younger than me, and yet you've accomplished more than I ever thought I could. We fight, we argue, we hate, but in the end, I wish I could say I'll always have your back, even when you won't have mine. I've covered for you so many times, took the blame when you did something wrong, but I don't wish it were different. You're so strong, and smart, and brave, and I wish I could see who you become.

To my brother; you're a good kid. I know you've been through shit, and out of you and the two youngest, you understand it the best, feel it the hardest, and hurt the most. I'm sorry I couldn't take that pain, I'm sorry I couldn't find the words to make it all better, and I'm sorry I didn't do more. You'll grow up to be a great man one day, just stick to your truth and don't change.

To the second youngest, my baby sister; you're such a little brat. A smartass, a know-it-all, a sassy little queen, but you are also so kind hearted, so smart, and try so hard to keep the peace in this dysfunctional family. Things have been tough for you too, yet through it, you've stayed happy. You have a dream, one that, despite your age, I hope you never lose sight of, no matter what. I remember when you first told me about it, you came up to me crying and said "I want to be a ballerina, but I'm too fat." In the moment, I didn't know what to say, but baby girl, you don't ever have to feel that way. You are beautiful, and you dance wonderfully. You'll make it one day, and you'll be a star, I know it, I can see it, I just wish I knew how to say this to you in a way you'd understand.

To the youngest, my baby brother; you're such a riot. An absolutely hilarious kid. You always know how to brighten the situation, either with silly behavior or sweet words. You never fail to make me smile, and I can only imagine the man you'll grow into. You're so strong and brave even though you don't understand the weight of the situations you've been in. Your smile, your laugh, your words of encouragement and your moments of misunderstanding, you're such a heartache in all the best ways.

One of these days I'll disappear. I don't plan on having sappy goodbyes, or sorrowful departures. One day I'll just disappear, leave without a trace, but believe me I'll be crying the whole way. I'll wonder how you all are for the rest of my life, regret the bad decisions I made, and remember fondly of the fun I had with you. I love you, all of you, and I wish I could stay forever, but I have dreams. I have things I want to do, and a person I want to be, and I simply can't achieve that by staying here. It hurts me now thinking of it, and I'm sure it'll hurt more when I finally leave. I wish you all could understand, but it's complicated to explain. Mom, your ignorance and denial refuse to let you understand. Sister, you don't understand purely out of confusion, not able to understand my reasons. The three of you little ones, you're too young to understand. Too young to know about any of this.

One day I will leave all of you sorrowfully in hopes of finding myself and my true happiness, but this does not mean I don't love you or that you didn't do enough. It's not your fault, it's mine. I need this, for my own sake. I feel selfish for valuing myself over you all, even if it is my own happiness that I value. It seems silly saying it out loud, but I want to live. I want to actually live, not just exist, and this is the only way I can do that.

Sincerely

- The son, and big brother, you'll never fully know.

[amalgamgooze]

amalgam stew I

I’ve got a million ideas of what to write right now and zero good ones. Here’s hoping all of them at once means anything.

(the scene begins)

Lonely Wanderer, What have you seen? What have you conquered? How many times have you fallen? Where are your friends? Who can you run back to, when times get hard and the way forward becomes unclear?

I’ve got an intense nostalgia for weekends spent in creative mode on the Xbox 1 version of Minecraft. Did you know the music of Minecraft changes depending on whether you’re in creative mode or not? I haven’t played creative mode in a hot minute. It’s been a while since I’ve heard the creative mode specific music from the actual game and not just the soundtrack.

There’s no hot sun above in this desert, but rather, a cold moon illuminating your sorrows.

The name “Amalgam Stew” comes from a dream I had a while ago about a nonexistent chess video game. Amalgam Stew was some character’s special ability, which used one of the other abilities in the game at random. How do special abilities in a chess game work? I don’t know!

Monaxia.

It’s a very heavy handed way to resemble loneliness in my story. (Monaxia comes from the Greek word for loneliness) (but then again, a lot of stories borrow from other languages for names)

Tonight I’m feeling tired and dizzy, stressed and confused. All very pleasant feelings, I guarantee you!

But I’ve got a legacy behind me! People have supported my past creations, support my current endeavors, and look forward to my future projects! I’ve got an audience cheering me on, and even if it’s not massive, it’s still motivating. I’m thankful for them. …I really hope that didn’t come off as arrogant or self important.

Lonely Wanderer, Spin me a tale of your sorrows. Talk of your heartaches and woes. You’ve got an interested audience here; it’d be a waste to, well, waste the opportunity!

And thankfully I’m not lonely anymore. That’s been resolved a long time ago. … but I still have the right to bitch about when I was lonely! … of course, it was my fault I was lonely for so long. I take full responsibility, ha-ha.

I’ve still done nothing with the pumpkin I’ve taken from my physics teacher, and I haven’t gone rock climbing since last month.

Have you ever been stuck in a dream where you wake up into another dream? I was once. Each time I woke up, the dream had remained mostly the same, but something was slightly different each time I woke up. By the time I’d actually woken up, the last iteration of the dream was totally different than the first. Rather intriguing, I suppose, but people who talk about their dreams often do so to substitute for a lack of other interesting things about them, right?

In the Long Night, The sun never comes out and the only eclipses you’ll get will be of the lunar variety.

…Because I keep having dreams that the upcoming eclipse will be disappointing because it’ll be too cloudy to see anything. I suppose even with clouds the whole world’ll still go dark, though. It’s not like I’ve been waiting for this eclipse for, uhh… seven years-ish now. It’s not like I’ve found significance in the previous eclipse occurring at a specific point in my life, and this next eclipse is an elegant narrative device used to remind the audience of where it all began as the story enters it’s final stages.Isn’t this all just so absolutely wacky? Aren’t I so random and quirky? Because that’s exactly how I don’t want to come off.

…I should’ve made root beer today instead of sleeping for half the day. Alas, we all live regrettable lives, do we not? Don’t spend too much time regretting, though. That’s no fun.

Oh well. What can I do now except for complain about it, anyway?

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 42 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

1 week later

Everywhere I look, I see him.

This is the house he grew up in.

His stuff is still strewn all around the room from when he stayed with me because neither of us was very good at keeping things clean or organized.

And I don't have the strength to even move any of it, the pain overwhelming me in a room full of things that remind me of him.

The first few days after he left me, I couldn't leave the bed.

I stayed there, curled up in a fetal position.

I couldn't bring myself to eat anything.

I would cry most of the time.

I'd have thoughts about dying.

I still have them.

I think about leaving this world to join my mother often, now that the person I love most wants nothing to do with me.

What is life worth if he's not here?

What is my life worth without him to give meaning to it?

All alone, I have nothing.

I slipped back into the habit of suffocating myself in my pillow, torturing myself with the lack of air until it was unbearable.

Then I'd sob my heart out into one of Daemon's jackets he'd left in my room.

I'd take in the scent of him that still lingered on it, remembering all the times he kissed me and told me how pretty I was.

But those moments are gone from me now.

So I mourn the loss of them through a process of self-destruction everyday, making myself even more miserable as I drown in my sorrows.

Nothing makes me feel happy.

Not candy, not my favorite shows, not even the treasured necklace he made for me on my birthday.

Then I went quiet.

The heartache was too much and I went numb.

I'd sit at the window for hours, almost paralyzed as I watched the street, imagining Daemon walking around the corner to take me back, to tell me he'd made a huge mistake and that he did love me, and would never, ever leave me again.

My wolf whimpered and cried for the longest time but eventually he went quiet, too.

I couldn't hear him at all, only feel his aching sadness.

The sadness sits in my chest now as I sit on the steps of the house, staring at the place where he broke my heart.

On the freaking sidewalk.

He couldn't even be bothered to pick a nicer location.

The sun is low on the horizon, giving me more reminders of that day.

I sigh sadly, resting my chin on my knees.

Alpha Ferix was right.

I'm just not fit for anyone to love me.

I mean, even my own mate rejected me.

So it must be true.

It was too hard to love someone like me.

I was a burden to Daemon, with all my trauma.

It was too much.

I wasn't loveable.

I was clingy and annoying, insanely greedy for wanting him.

He got tired of it.

Anyone would have gotten tired of it.

I've always longed for things I could never have.

Family. Love. Happiness.

With Daemon, it felt like I had those things. It felt like he cared.

When he held me, I felt warmth, affection.

I saw desire when he looked at me.

I thought I saw love, too.

But I have a habit of being absolutely delusional and stupid because my brain is so fucked up, so I might have made it all up.

Might of tricked myself. 

Tristan has been coming around to check on me, so that's an odd surprise.

He must feel bad that Lucien's gone and his best friend also ditched me.

He was the one that forced me to eat after five days of starving myself.

He shouted at me, asking if I wanted to die prematurely and made me cry, but it did make me eat.

My friends have been treating me like a wounded puppy.

I guess that's kind of what I am.

They speak to me with soft voices, give me random gifts and try be around me all the time.

It got to the point where I told them that they needed to back off, give me some space.

While I am grateful for them, I alone can grieve the loss of my mate.

No one else can help me through it.

Right now is one of those times where I have space, completely alone.

Tristan tries to order me to stay inside and keep the doors locked but I don't listen.

I don't know why he's being so overbearing.

I'm about to get up and head back inside to watch depressing movies when a car pulls up.

I squint, peeking a blond head getting out of the car.

Geez, what's Theo doing here now?

[purposefully-lost]

Chris' eyes fluttered closed as their lips met again. He really couldn't breathe, overwhelmed in a rush by the closeness of him and the warmth of his lips and the taste of chocolate. The hand holding onto Rabbit's squeezed down, gripping onto him for just a moment longer before he finally let go to wrap his arm around him instead. It felt a little bit like letting go of what they'd been so far- strangers to friends to his absolute best friend- and that terrified him, but there was a comfort in their closeness that he couldn't really deny. It was the same as sitting out in that clearing with him on a cloudy afternoon, safe from the rest of the world, free to simply... exist.

He wasn't sure yet what he thought about getting any closer- there was a spike of anxiety in his chest when he realized that he wasn't quite sure what to do. He didn't even know if he'd enjoy what would come next, but then he was laughing as they broke apart. He leaned against Rabbit in return and tried to catch his breath only to fall into another round of giggles. "I think they can," he replied, his eyes shining as he glanced up to meet Rabbit's. That boys eyes seemed to just get prettier and prettier, the longer you looked. He warmed, ready to tell him that he made him happy, too, but then his smile started to fade.

With just a shower and a couple of hours spent curled up on the couch, it'd almost been easy to start to forget who Rabbit was. What he was. That he couldn't stay here for very long. He couldn't stay anywhere, or else eventually someone might come for him. He'd get arrested, or.. Chris didn't know. He didn't want to think about it. He really didn't know how he could call someone his best friend only to send them back out into the woods again, all alone, for any amount of time.

"You've always been really sweet," he told him, instead of lingering on the heartache that reminder had brought along. "And.. cute. I could tell that, even with your hair all in your face. And..."

Overwhelmed with it, he wrapped his arms around him to pull him into a hug. Chris hid his face in his shoulder, relishing the contact but finding that it didn't quite dissipate the pang of sorrow he felt for Rabbit, or at the thought of him having to leave again. "And I- I really like you. We could.. kinda give it a shot, couldn't we?" He knew that maybe they couldn't even as he said it. He didn't really have a precedent for how to date someone who lived in the woods or who was wanted for, of all things, murder. The reality of that began to sink in completely for the first time. Jack had really killed his family. He'd kissed the boy who'd taken a shovel and beat his own brothers to death.

He held him just a little tighter. Just a few more months and he'd be graduating. He'd have to start really.. existing, and he was suddenly filled to the brim with fear that somehow that'd mean leaving Rabbit behind too.

"Do they really want you for murder?" He asked softly, picking his head up just to rest his chin on Rabbit's shoulder. Suddenly he was scared, not of him, but for him, in a new and uniquely horrific way. "I- I mean.. they know for certain it was you? 'Cause maybe.. I don't know. ...If you're gonna be my boyfriend, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to just let you live in the woods."

Throwing the dirty blanket on the ground, Rabbit plopped himself down in the center of it and dropped his findings on the fabric. Someone had left behind a heavy hunting knife. It felt good in his palm, and it was perfect to gut fish for meals and to slice any mushrooms he found. Spinning it between his fingers, he cursed softly at himself as it knicked one of his knuckles. He quickly set it down and pulled the small cut to his mouth to suck at the blood.

There was also a good handful of wild mulberries and some acorns and pine nuts he collected. The acorns would have to be boiled, but the others would make a pretty decent snack until he could rangle up something for dinner. He'd been putting most of his effort into trying to make the shack in the meadow inhabitable that he'd nearly let himself go hungry. Rabbit stuffed a few of the ripe berries in his cheek and let out a slow, content sigh. As he enjoyed them, he started to clean the dirt off the acorns and separate any of them that looked a little suspicious. Those were tossed back towards the grass-- The deer didn't mind fungus in their acorn, and who was he to deny them that snack?

A rustle in the grass got his attention, his mismatched eyes peeking through long, unbrushed curls. There was a young hare across the clearing, and as the pair made eye contact, he couldn't help but smile a little. He watched the bunny sniff around the area and very carefully tossed one of his berries towards it, humming happily as it moved closer to inspect. Rabbit watched it eat, the red juice staining the fur around its muzzle the same way it stained his fingers. Moving slowly to try and offer another, a crack in the trees sent the bunny running and pushed a nervous shock up his spine.

Rabbit didn't get a chance to scramble up and away when he caught sight of the body moving towards him. A boy-- Maybe around the same age as him? It didn't matter, he didn't want to be found out here. Snatching the knife he'd found, he clutched it in his hands and stared with wide, trapped eyes. His knuckles were white with his grip, his fingers trembling. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Clamping his mouth shut, he held the knife out in front of him in a silent warning.

@purposefully-lost