#had to contribute to the lighter love in some way

[absofckinglutelys]

researcher; lighter x gn! reader

author's note; hello lighter lovers nation! its been awhile since i posted anything here, what with my finals, procrastination and 4-5 typhoons in a month (seriously i wish i was joking). i've become kinda rusty when it comes to writing, so i hope you can be kind in these trying times. not beta read nor is my first language english so expect grammar mistakes.

word count: 2,400 words

enjoy!

_________

The afternoon sun beat down your skin as a light sheen of sweat dripped down from your forehead. But you were used to it by this point, it was more of a daily annoyance in your self-appointed work. You've built up a tolerance to it the longer you stay in your small camp.

You looked at the Hollow from afar with worry.

It grew more potent the last time I was here.. You thought to yourself as you packed up your findings in an old duffel bag while writing down some of your thoughts on your notes. You only bring back your journal and photos, not stuff that could potentially harm anyone as per the agreement to continue in your research and to stay in Blazewood.

The ache in your bones and the way your brain was turning itself off the longer you stay here tells you enough. It's time for a break.

Your camp was far away from the source of your research, the Old Capital. Far enough to not be affected, but near enough to observe it. Today, you were planning to go back to your lodgings in the Outer Ring, specifically Blazewood.

Although..

You checked your watch for the time. Normally, your ride back to Blazewood would be here by now..

Just as you were about to take out your phone to call, a familiar sound of an engine roared through the empty streets.

A bike that you were vaguely familiar with but weren't expecting at all, came closer to you at high speed before the tires screeched right in front of you. You gave the rider a smile once you recognized her.

“Afternoon, Researcher!” The soon-to-be leader of the Sons of Calydon flashed you with a wide grin, sweat dripping down her face under the sun. Her bike's engine continued to roar as she set her foot down to balance herself.

You chuckled as you placed a hand on your hip, “Caesar, how many times do I have to tell you that you can call me by my name?”

The nickname the Sons of Calydon, and by extension, the people of Blazewood started calling you once you started researching the Old Capital. You did give them your name, but apparently ‘Researcher’ stuck. You've grown used to it by this point.

Caesar flushed in embarrassment, putting her hand on her nape as she laughed, “Sorry, sorry. It's a habit at this point. Anyways,” She cleared her throat, “I'm here to bring you back to Blazewood!”

“Not that I'm complaining or anything,” You hummed as you approached the biker, “But normally Big Daddy is the one who picks me up, did something happen?” You eyed her curiously as Caesar adjusted herself so you could sit behind her, she revved her bike as you got on.

“I think so,” Caesar admitted, but quickly followed up as you looked at her with a frown over her shoulder, “But it's not anything bad! Big Daddy's been gone since yesterday. He said something about taking care of some business or something.”

You let out a sigh in relief as Caesar started driving at a slow pace before she made a U-turn back to Blazewood. “Well, at least it's not anything bad. Did he say why?”

Caesar picked up the pace, enough for the wind to whip at your face, you narrowed your eyes at the onslaught of dust and bits of rocks.

“Not really! He said something about meeting up with someone I think?!” Caesar shouted over the wind, you clutched the back of her bike for stability at the fast pace of her driving, eyes still narrowed due to the dust. “Guess we'll have to wait and see!”

––

Caesar's driving was a stark contrast compared to Big Daddy's, you were pretty sure you swallowed a bug during the ride back to Blazewood. You couldn't complain much though, at least you were back in your lodgings before late in the afternoon.

“You good, Researcher?” Caesar asked as you got off her bike, you were sure you looked like a hot mess judging by Caesar's concern, but you were pretty sure she was trying not to laugh at your face. To her credit, she was doing a pretty good job.

“Peachy, thanks for the ride, Caesar.” You adjusted your clothes and fixed your hair effortlessly, again you can't really complain. The Sons of Calydon and the people of Blazeword were already kind enough to take you under their wing, providing food and shelter. It was more than you deserve, so you help around if you could.

Besides, most of the people in Blazewood used bikes more often than not. There was Steeltusk, but you did not want to be another victim of Piper's driving anytime soon.

“Anytime–” Just as Caesar was about to get off her bike, a voice called out.

“Big Sis, Researcher! You're back!” The red jacket was already a telltale sign, the Champion of the Sons of Calydon approached you two as he raised his arm in greeting.

“Just in time, Big Daddy's been looking for you.” Billy said as he grew closer to you, you and Caesar shared a look, “Huh, Big Daddy's back already?” Caesar inquired as she got off her bike and kicked up the stand. You had half the mind to go inside your lodgings to drop off your bag as the two conversed.

It was a simple apartment on the second story, you climbed up the stairs as you took out your key, opening the door and promptly dropping your bag on the single sofa in the room before going back to the two members of the Sons of Calydon, still conversing but Caesar had a look of surprise on her face this time.

“What'd I miss?” You asked curiously.

“We're about to meet up with the others. Come on, Researcher!” Billy exclaimed, taking your arm in his hand without another word as all three of you walked to the lift to the main part of Blazewood, you didn't protest much since you and Billy were close enough for friendly touches like these every once in a while. But you were growing confused as you got on the lift.

“Did something happen?” You asked as the little bangboo pulled down the lever to take you up.

“Big Daddy's came back with a guy.” Billy replied as the lift’s creaky fence opened to let you out. You raised a brow at his vague words, “A guy?”

“Yeah, Big Daddy said he'll explain everything once everyone's there. So he sent me to wait for you two to come back.” You and Caesar shared a look again in confusion as Billy led the way, Blazewood was small, so you can already see the other Sons of Calydon members and the mayor of Blazewood just by the old diner along with an unfamiliar face.

“Do I have to be there too?” You asked as the three of you grew closer to the others.

Billy shrugged, “I guess so? Big Daddy did say to ‘make sure Caesar and the Researcher meet up with us once they come back’. I guess since you're our honorary member after all!” He joked as you let out a sigh.

Another thing, aside from your research, you spent most of your time with the Sons of Calydon in your free time. You enjoyed the company of the people of Blazewood, but you felt a deeper connection with the Sons of Calydon. Maybe because Big Daddy was the reason why you were here in the first place and he always insists you join them at their down times.

You sometimes think it was his way to make sure you weren't an anti-social shut in.

So while you weren't an official member, you were an honorary member. Which was why you were being dragged to this meeting right now.

“We're here!” Billy announced as the other members of the Sons of Calydon and the mayor of Blazewood greeted you, you smiled at them with a tip of your head.

“Now that everyone's here,” Big Daddy started, the group fell silent as they listened to him speak, “I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Sons of Calydon.” Big Daddy approached the man a little aways from the group.

The man stepped forward as Big Daddy gestured to him, his arms were crossed with his head down. You observed him from head to toe, trying to assuage what kind of person he was. You tried not to narrow your eyes at the guy and make him uncomfortable, so you smoothed your face into what you hope to be a welcoming one.

“Oh? Well, welcome to Blazewood, mister..” The mayor of Blazewood spoke up first, she trailed off,

The man cleared his throat, relaxing his stature as he looked up. “... Lighter, Lorenz. Nice to meet you.”

The man, Lighter, as he introduced himself. Had shades on when he looked up, you saw a glimpse of his eyes as he flickered his gaze around you. But you weren't entirely sure.

Big Daddy addressed the group after Lighter spoke up, “Lighter will be with us from now on. So, make sure to make him feel welcomed.” As the Sons of Calydon gave their confirmation and greetings to their new member, you stayed back and observed him.

Lighter was on the tall side, maybe as tall as Billy. But he seemed to retreat to himself as the Sons of Calydon started to approach him. No, not retreat. He looked like he was expecting a fight, wound up like a spring ready to jump. You can see his jaw clench and unclench as the others continued to ask Big Daddy question after question, most often than not, asking questions about him.

He was good at hiding his unease, you were just way too observant for your own good.

“Where are you from, Lighter?” You asked him directly, making the others pause and look at you. But your eyes were on him as he perked up in surprise, most likely not expecting anyone to ask him directly.

The man cleared his throat as he looked at you through his shades, it looks like this time he was observing you.

“.. Just by the old oil ridge, a bit far from here.” Lighter's voice was deep, raspy. As if he hasn't used his voice for awhile now. You had a hunch to think he had no reason to. “You look like you're from the city.” He followed up, more evident he was observing you.

You simply shrugged while crossing your arms, your expression remained neutral. “I get that a lot, but no, I'm not from there.”

“The Researcher's been with us for a couple of months now.” The mayor shared, looking at you with a smile which you returned.

“Yeah, but they didn't really share where they're from.” Caesar added as she looked at you thoughtfully, you put a finger to your lips mischievously. “I have my reasons.”

The group let out a small chuckle as the unspoken tension let up, it quickly died down as Big Daddy spoke up again, although it was noticeable he was glad for the distraction. “Anyways, let's get Lighter set up for now. Miss Kasa,” Big Daddy turned to the mayor. “Do we still have some room available for him? I’m afraid most of the space in our quarters is–” Big Daddy seemed to cringe, making you raise a brow in curiosity. The other members of the Sons of Claydon looked sheepish.

It made you think what transpired while you were busy with your research.

The mayor sighed but nodded in understanding. “I know. Unfortunately, most of the houses here are already occupied with residents and their respective families. And most lodgings at the lower level are already occupied.”

Big Daddy sighed as the Sons of Calydon started debating with each other what to do. You just stood by with the mayor as you watched them argue back and forth. The new guy (you decided to call Lighter), seemed to be mentally checked out of the conversation.

They're going to be arguing about this all day… You thought to yourself as the growing fatigue started making itself known as you watched. Unfortunately for you, you were way too determined in your research, which leads to not more than four hours of sleep a day. Along with sample gathering, data collection and whatnot, you're body was yelling at you to stop ignoring it's needs and go the fuck to sleep.

All you can think about is the bed inside your lodgings, and the duffle bag full of data you have to sift through.

So, before you can even pause and think, your mouth betrayed you as your mind was dead set on sleeping until the next morning.

“He can room with me.” All discussions seemed to pause, as everyone looked at you.

Curse you, you stupid mouth. But there was no turning back now.

“Are you sure, Researcher? We don't want to disturb you.” Big Daddy turned to you, he seemed to search your expression for any doubt as your face remained neutral. Instead, your gaze landed on the new guy, who seemed to be caught off guard. Huh.

You shrugged, trying to let some reassurance drip in your tone, but really. You really just want to pass out now. “It's fine, Lighter and I can room with each other for awhile as you, uh-” You narrowed your eyes at the others, “-sort out whatever happened to your headquarters.”

The other members of the Sons of Calydon nervously laughed before Big Daddy cleared his throat, waving away the unspoken question. “Well, since the Researcher offered,” Big Daddy turned to the new guy, “I hope you don't mind rooming with the Researcher, it's just until we can find a place for you to stay. That alright with you?”

“I don't mind.” Lighter answered quietly, shifting his gaze between you and Big Daddy. The Sons of Calydon perked up, reassuring the new guy about his accommodations. Sometimes you think the Sons of Calydon aren't a biker gang by how nice they are, at times, you mentally compare them to a group of eager pets with a new playmate.

You silently pray for the new guy as everyone continues to plan for his part in the Sons of Calydon.

[lurkingshan]

My mind has been spinning and spinning around episodes 3 and 4, and I have so many feelings about them that I have been struggling to decide what I want to write about. One of @bengiyo's questions is about the different feel of this part of the story in the transition from page to screen, including the overall kdramafication effect, and I felt that most keenly where Hyung was concerned.

Let's start with the obvious: Hyung is not supposed to be this young and hot. But then, Young is not supposed to look like Nam Yoon Su, so I guess we can let that one go. More than that, though, I think episode 3 went out of its way to make Yeong Su a more appealing love interest than he ever seemed to be in the novel, and that had a clear purpose: to make the comedown in episode 4 so much worse.

Episode 3 used the familiar trappings of romance dramas to help us understand why Go Yeong was so drawn to this man despite some of his rough edges. They had interesting dates with good conversations. They shared an umbrella in the rain. They kissed sexily outside. They danced together in Yeong Su's (much nicer than described in the book) apartment. I may or may not have actually said OH MY GOD out loud when they were moving together to that old song; it was intoxicating in exactly the way early attraction is. Instead of viewing Hyung through the bitter recollections of Young's memory already knowing he's a bastard, we experienced him the way Go Yeong did when he was first catching his interest, and it was easy to see why he would latch onto this man as a balm and a distraction while he was going through a very hard time with his mother's illness.

Which means it hurt so much worse when Go Yeong emerged from that initial haze in episode 4 and realized who Yeong Su really was. He got a hard look at the deep internalized homophobia Yeong Su was carrying and projecting onto him, and it was not pleasant, nor was the way it echoed across his experiences with his mother.

Another interesting change made in the adaptation was to increase the severity of Hyung's crime; where in the novel he only searched and read articles on the evils of homosexuality, in the show he wrote the damn article while Go Yeong slept in his bed. A much larger betrayal and blow for Young. And this makes sense for the screen version, IMO; the romance is deeper and therefore so must be the fracture. Everything is just a bit bigger and more dramatic to amplify the themes of the story and to help the audience understand why this might drive Go Yeong to such a low moment without the benefit of his internal monologue to connect all the dots.

I was reflecting on these changes and how they affected the tone when I read @solitaryandwandering's thoughts, because I was intrigued by her reception of these episodes as darker, where for me, with the (much) more depressing novel version in my head, they felt lighter than expected. Which is kind of a wild thing to say about a section of the story that includes Young's suicide attempt, but context is everything! The T-aras, of course, also contribute to how different this section feels. In the book, Young is presented as so isolated and alone with this relationship, but in the show he has friends who know and care and try to help and show up for him in his low moment to make sure he is not alone. It makes such a difference to the bleakness of it all, and also makes the story feel more cohesive across the different parts in a way the book intentionally does not.

I think ultimately the adaptation choices made here were smart, and I continue to be impressed with how thoughtful Sang Young Park has been with his different visions for his story in each medium.

[nadvs]

Okay I was thinking about a born from wal with the reader and rafe in the future after college maybe married or something with kids like I just want more of them

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

inspired by this ask! continuation blurb from the watch and learn series

Even when you’re arguing, Rafe opens and closes your car door for you. It’s a habit he started back in college after your first date and it stuck.

You step out of the SUV, both wearing scowls and semi-formal clothing, tension thick between you.

Your daughter kept you up last night. You’re both operating on just a few hours of sleep, which definitely contributed to your argument this morning.

You snapped at him about the mess he left in the kitchen, he snapped at you about how the mess wasn’t even a big deal, and since then, you’ve been ignoring each other.

You called him short-tempered. He called you stubborn. The babysitter arrived and the thirty-minute drive to your old college was filled with nothing but silence.

This isn’t how Rafe pictured Sigma Chi’s ten-year reunion. He wanted to bring the you that’s his best friend, not the you that rolls your eyes at him.

Maybe he was a bit harsh this morning. But so were you.

Being back on campus feels already feels a little like a blur, but once you step into the loud, full frat house, you’re disoriented. The nostalgia hits you hard.

Rafe immediately reverts into the loud, charismatic frat boy you fell in love with when he sees his brothers. You thought you’d have to fake your smile, still upset about the fight, but you’re genuinely happy once you’re around everyone again.

You make conversation and even though he’s mad at you, Rafe’s heart feels a little lighter as he watches you smile and chat and laugh with the guys you got to know so well over your college years.

He loves this about you. That you don’t let people see when you’re in a fight.

Sam shouts in greeting when he sees you. He stayed a good friend of Rafe’s after graduation, even coming to your wedding and your daughter’s first birthday party.

“He behaving?” Sam asks you, nudging Rafe.

“When has he ever behaved?” you quip, sharing your first smile with Rafe today.

“Can I steal him?” Sam says.

“Please do,” you tease. Sam laughs and pats Rafe’s back, leading him towards the back of the house to grab drinks.

You stand by the front window alone, looking out at the street, thinking back to how many times you walked up the pathway to the house once Rafe moved in.

Just a few feet away from where you’re standing was where he first propositioned you. I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me was what he said. And damn, did you two practice. You practiced until you fell in love with each other.

“How’s life treating you?” Sam asks Rafe, tapping his beer against his in cheers.

“Toddlers don’t like to sleep, man,” Rafe says. “At least mine doesn’t.”

“Neither did you back in college,” Sam laughs. “I remember seeing you two in the kitchen at four in the morning.”

Rafe chuckles. He remembers that night.

It was right after he moved into the house. You stayed after a party, hooking up in his new room, and ended up talking for hours in bed.

You eventually went downstairs, searching for snacks in the kitchen, whispering and giggling, waking Sam up, who was passed out on the couch.

Rafe had so much fun with you. He still does. Even the mundane shit is fun with you.

He hates that you’re in a fight. It’s stupid to waste time in an argument.

About ten minutes later, Rafe finds you in the living room. He’s holding a plate of food he made from the refreshments this year’s frat had set up.

“I shouldn’t have snapped,” he mumbles, holding the snacks out. Offering you some sort of gift has always been his favorite way to apologize. Well, after make-up sex.

“The mess wasn’t that big of a deal,” you say. All the irritation had left your body now that you’ve had time to cool down and reminisce about everything you’ve been through together. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, you were dramatic,” Rafe jokes. You nudge his shoulder with a gasp, albeit smiling.

“We’re both just tired, I think,” you say.

“You haven’t eaten,” he says, pointing to the plate. You beam at him, taking a bite of the food. You took forever getting ready and didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.

“I prioritized getting pretty,” you say.

“You’re always pretty. You know you’re a total milf, right?” he mumbles quietly. You laugh and kiss his cheek.

“You hitting on me?”

“Do you even have to ask?” he says with a smirk.

Another frat brother spots Rafe and comes over to make conversation. Others join in slowly, forming a small group.

A few minutes in, Rafe checks his phone instinctually to see if the babysitter has called.

One of his buddies notices his lockscreen. It’s a photo of you asleep with your daughter on the couch, your lips pursed in the same exact way.

“What a softie,” he jokes.

You look at Rafe and laugh as he gazes down at the photo with a smirk.

Ever since the night of the Sadie Hawkins formal, you’ve been his lockscreen photo. At first, it was the Polaroid of you. Then, it was you sitting up in his bed, smiling and wearing his baseball hat and Greek lettered t-shirt. He kept that one for ages. Eventually, it was your wedding photo.

Now, it’s his girls, the two most important people in the world to him.

After the reunion, you get into the car and notice Rafe isn’t turning the key in the ignition. He’s just staring down at the wheel, chest rising and falling slowly.

“I love you, okay, baby?” he says. “I don’t say it enough. But I do.”

“You say it in your own way all the time,” you console him. “You’ve always been more show than tell.”

“Can I show you, then?” he asks, dragging a hand over your thigh.

“Rafe,” you laugh. “Where would we even go?”

He points to the backseat with mischievous blue eyes.

“Been a while,” he says lowly. His voice, his gaze, his touch… He hasn’t lost his charm, even so many years later.

Rafe is thinking the same thing about you.

You lean forward, kissing his lips, smiling at the man you’ve chosen to spend your life with, and tell him to find somewhere to park.

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.10. TO BE HUMAN

she adored the human mind. she wasn't quite sure why, but she liked how unique it was. every mind was different and despite being someone who loved to be in control, she loved that the human mind could not be tamed. it's impossible to stop the way it loves or thinks. as she walks through the city with him, her steps feel easy. her path to this moment hasn't been the easy straightforward one by any means, but perhaps life isn't about the happy ending. rather, it's about finding what it means to be the traveler. the adventurer. the voyager."

content warnings: talk about death and parental issues. one vague mention to someone taking their own life. ness is having an existential crisis. omi and yn are (unofficially) on their first date <3

a therapy session they'd had weeks before summed up a lot of what she'd been feeling recently;

“you know, in our last year of high school, it didn’t really feel all that exciting to me.”

she likes that he can say our. she likes him. it’s that simple.

“everyone made it out to be this exciting once-in-a-lifetime period in our lives. but it didn't feel that way. i just felt loss. and everyone was dying. i mean— not everyone, but it was like everyone around me was experiencing some sort of death. a family member had died, a friend had died, someone i’d never even heard of had taken their life, and it was weird." he trails off, unsure of how else to explain his thoughts but she gets it.

“and even if it wasn’t them losing their life, during that last year of school, there were a lot of people who were dying to themselves,” she follows up. “a lot of people trying to figure out who they were, and realizing they didn’t know who they were, but time kept going. as kids, we grow up thinking one day in the future, we’ll know exactly what to do with ourselves and we'll know how to live life like all the other adults we saw growing up. but then you turn 19 and realize you still don’t know what’s going on. you keep waiting for a revelation, but it never comes.”

he holds her gaze for a moment, and it just feels like they’re looking through each other. like they don’t even need words to communicate. they already know everything about each other. “exactly. it never came, and i was scared it was just me who felt this way. then i kept hearing about more and more people dying, and it–” he pauses, thinking of how he wants to word it. he knows what he wants to say, but he’s scared to say it in front of her, ironically.

“don't think about it, just say what you want to,” she urges gently, “i’m not going to judge you, sakusa. i'm just here to listen”

“it scared me,” the words come out before he can even realize it. the statement was hard to say, but once it slipped out of his mouth, he felt lighter. “i was worried that this was all life was. just watching and hearing more and more people die. it was nothing like anyone made it out to be. nothing about growing up, moving out, anything exciting. just a bunch of people who are older and have jobs and their old enough that people start dying. i know it’s a part of life, but i guess i just thought i’d start actually experiencing people near me dying when i was an adult, you know? like when i was at least 30 years old or something. not in my last year of high school. but no one gives a shit. we’re all basically told we’re adults and if we don't feel like it, to grow the hell up. except none of us know what that means. i never woke up one day feeling like an adult. every day just feels like i’m pretending to know what’s going on. i was in the shoes of the third years i looked up to when i was a first year, and i could only go about my days wondering if they felt as lost as i did.”

“i promise you they did,” she validates. “it’s somewhat a part of the culture surrounding us, and how quickly society wants you to become a functioning member contributing to its structure, but the entire idea of a functioning society is dehumanizing. everyone’s just a human, and they live and they die. as we grow up, we learn more, and gain more experience, but even the third years when you were a first year still messed up. they still asked questions. they didn’t know everything yet, just like you didn’t when you became a third year. and there were first years that looked up to you when you were a third year just like you previously had. then they became third years. do you see what i’m getting at?” she asks and he nods, continuing to listen. “when we look up to someone, we don’t see a lot of their faults. we see so many things that they may think is a flaw as beauty, and that’s just because we love the person. so maybe you don’t remember your third years ever messing up, but that doesn’t mean they’re perfect. they were perfect in your head and there's no harm in looking up to someone, but you're still your own person. you'll never be exactly like any of the third years you looked up to, but that doesn't mean you're a failure or below them. i’m sure if you reached out to them now, or even just asked someone like the coach for your team if they have their life figured out, they’ll laugh and say no. but they can laugh because you’re not supposed to have your life figured out by any certain age.” she was going on a bit of a tangent now, but she was trying her best to explain the philosophy of a topic no one knew the true answer to in her own words to the man in front of her. “i don’t really know if anyone ever figures out their life, but i think the important thing we all have to aim to do is not to find out what’s going on, but just to find people to struggle with. find people that help you carry your burdens, help them carry theirs, and have fun with them. surround yourself with people who remind you that it’s okay not to know what the hell’s going on, and to make mistakes.”

he’d need to make a note of what she’d just said later. and he wanted to apply what she explained to their own relationship. he wanted to help her carry her burdens, just like how she was helping carry his.

now they’re sitting in a diner near to where her office is located. it’s not busy, despite it being just past 6. she’s sipping on a mug of tea while a cup of black coffee sits in front of him, and they’re waiting for the rest of the rest of their food. 

similar to how she’d felt the first time she’d seen him in her office after so many years, despite him sitting straight and tall across from her at a diner table, she didn’t see him like a full-grown adult. she saw him as the friend she’d grown up with years through her childhood and school years. and she was sure she appeared the same to him.

how strange it was, to be human. to ask or pay another human to listen to your struggles and ask them for advice when they can’t be sure of anything either. none of them can control even a single hair on their head, and yet humans have been entrusted with so much. how strange it felt to be an adult, to be where she dreamed of being all alone. to be alone at a table with a friend, without the worry of a curfew, or to have a parent or anyone else sitting next to them.

it was just him and her, and he was all she needed.

she’d remained silent about what was bothering her for most of the walk here. in between those moments where she'd opened up was silence or anything small they could think of to talk about. after they’d ordered and he promised he wanted to listen, the air between them was left silent. he was waiting for her, and then she finally spoke up,

“around when we got distant, my mother left and my father only got worse than he already was. he was always angry at me or trying to guilt trip me because I was the only person left in his life. i didn't stay willingly. i just couldn't leave yet. and it’s–” she had to close her eyes as she talked, trying to keep herself calm and steady, “it was easy for him to guilt trip me. because i still felt bad for him even though everyone had left him for a reason. he just looked so miserable. and i was miserable. i got out of there the moment i could but he still wouldn’t leave me alone. i blocked him on every single platform possible him and he still showed up at my apartment so i moved. then he found me again and my roomates kicked me out so i came to osaka for an internship and i’ve been here ever since. and i’ve just started feeling kind of good where i am, with the people i’m living with, and i found you again. but i’ve been freaked out all day because he called me this morning. i don’t know how he found my number, but i’m scared, sakusa. i don’t want to leave again.”

“then don’t,” he says back as if the solution is simple.

she looks up at him in disbelief, “but what am i supposed to do? if he finds me again, he’ll keep showing up just like last time. my roommates now said they were there to help me, but what if they get tired of me?” her pulse is beating so fast she can feel it in her neck and chest and she doesn’t have the time to overthink anything she’s saying,

“[y/n]. you know the kind of people they are. i know iwaizumi well and i can tell you that he at the very least would never leave you. no one’s going to get sick of you," something keeps her from looking away from him, and he holds her gaze as he continues to talk, "you told me to surround myself with people who remind me it’s not the end of the world if i mess up, and i think that you’ve done that for yourself whether you realize it or not. not everyone is terrible like your old roomates. the ones you have now are all there to help you. they want to help you. they’re there to stay and so am i. if you need even more help or if you don’t want to go back to your apartment, you can always stay over at mine. or call me over. iwaizumi or i could beat your father’s ass so he never comes back.”

she laughs at his ending joke. it wouldn’t even take both of the strongest men she knows to beat up a single alcoholic man, just one of them. she’d been terrified of her father ever since she could remember, but when she thinks about her friends being able to punch her dad in the face, maybe he’s not so scary. she has people who could fight back against him if she can’t. “i’d like that,” she muses, starting to plan out how the entire situation would go, “although if you came over to beat him up, there’s no way iwaizumi’s letting you do it on your own. and shinsuke would probably help too. or at least stare him down which torturous enough on its own. akaashi would keep me company inside.”

sakusa’s smiling too, now, “sounds like we have it all mapped out already. see? you're just fine. if we somehow need even more backup against a single man, the rest of my team will scare him off.”

“please,” she laughs, waving him off, “hinata and bokuto sound like monsters together, and atsumu would only add to the wall of you and iwaizumi.”

"hinata and bokuto are monsters. even to the people they love– especially to the people they love,” he rolls his eyes as he talks, letting the conversation go quiet between them for a second. then, he taps her hand, which she's laid on the table between them, “but i mean it, don’t be afraid to call me, okay? iwaizumi has my number too, if you need.”

“okay, i will, thank you,” she says, starting to believe him. she's starting to believe everything will be fine, and that she's safe.

when their food comes, she begins to think differently from how she did when he was standing in front of her at the door of her office. if she could go back in time, she doesn’t think she would change anything. she likes how she’s reconciled with sakusa, how they’ve caught up, and how the world led them back to each other again.

maybe things will be okay. and like he said, maybe she’s found her people. maybe she’s found her roots.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

here is a second song that i feel resonates very much with this little chapter

if i fail my sociology final i'm sending my teacher this chapter bc at least whatever tf I learned in that class started spilling out here

i'm terribly sorry for how philosophical i get but also not really

as you can tell i am projecting a lot onto this fic

i didn't actually mean for these last two chapters to focus so much on death but it's just how i've been thinking recently (not about death but like growing up and the fear of all that blah blah blah i'm ok dw) and hopefully some people relate to that and this makes them feel a little better :)

but also i liked that both omi and y/n are having these worries and fears about the future and all that!

hmmmmm

i'm not actually crazy for how this story is going to end but maybe it's just me !

this is the second to last chapter <3

also ofc the diner omi and yn went to is the ravens eye diner!!!!! (shameless plug for the loml mo <3)

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[take-me-home-crabapple-cove]

tbh i think it was actually catastrophic for Hawkeye's character when Trap left. like let's imagine for one moment that Trapper never left (therefore BJ went to a different unit). Trapper fucking got him, you know?? twin flames maybe, if not soulmates. they definitely would have had some Brokeback Mtn shit after the war, and eventually Trap's wife would have Michelle William's that shit.

they were best-friends; leaned on each other, loved each other, and very likely, would have continued to do so as old men fishing (making out) on a boat in Crabapple Cove.

as much as I love to be delusional about that, we all know it wasn't like that. Trapper left; he went back home. the relationship dissipitated because they didn't have long enough together, and Trapper probably felt guilty about never saying bye to Hawk, so figured he was better off without him.

Hawkeye is visibly more tired, depressed, angry. of course the war contributed (massively) but the change is visibly after Trapper leaves. he's more bitter, and it sucks him down. he's still Hawkeye, he's still himself, but there's a bitter acceptance to him that makes my fckn heart ACHE. he's not broken, but he doesn't work the same way he used to, and it's because his best-friend/lover left him alone, in a hell that he made a little lighter.

like just...do you ever think about that and want to curl up into foetal position as your body and soul rot away in a Traphawk induced psychosis? cause i do

[thebardisabird]

Writing has been hard for me lately. A lot of things have happened in the past year for me that damaged my zest to write. But that passion doesn't ever truly die, I think, so I'm doing my best to pick myself and continue doing what I love. So here's my contribution to Karamatsu month. A very candid conversation and a gentle reminder.

When Karamatsu had asked you to take a walk with him, you initially had thought nothing of it. Often you two would walk Akatsuka Park together; you, because you enjoyed the benefit of being able to clear your mind with some fresh air, and he because it was how you two met, so it held a special place in the grand scheme of your friendship. 

“Ah, does the air not smell so wonderfully crisp?” Karamatsu inhales, stretching his arms out as his lungs take in the cool afternoon air. You get lost in your own breathing for a second, “Just the season for it too,” a small smile ghosts over your lips, “I love this time of year.” 

Karamatsu hums in agreement, arms crossing over his chest as he slides his eyes closed and walks with a purposeful blindness.

Your mind shifts to light conversation, “How was your week? Anything new with your brothers?”

His chuckle is airy as he peaks an eye open toward you, “Raucous as ever - but how could they not be? We share the same fire in our blood after all.” 

This made you laugh as you recalled that same exact “fiery blood” getting them in trouble with Chibita just the other night. Karamatsu hears your laughter and mirrors it, thinking of his brothers and their antics - antics he’s very much always a part of. He recollects the memories that have permanently altered his life; how he wouldn’t trade them for the world. Yet as you both walk, a chill runs through the leather of his jacket. The reality of his adulthood creeps up and reminds him that even this situation - spending every day of his adult life with his brothers, living without much to care about, or even the luxury of getting to have these walks with you whenever it pleases you both - may be temporary. But such is life, isn’t it? Shouldn’t a man his age strive for independence and distance so as to be free of burdening his family? Karamatsu tucks his hands into his armpits, a certain vulnerability striking him now. You feel the difference in his attitude almost instantly.

“Kara…you okay?” 

His answer doesn’t come right away, though he still walks with you without missing a step. His signature shades have slid down the bridge of his nose a tad, revealing the troubled look of his downcast eyes and knitted brows. In searching for a response he remains silent; though this renders to you as him not having heard you. “Karamatsu…?” you call out again, worry lacing in your utterance of his name. 

The wrinkles in his brows grow deeper, “Am I…a burden?” 

The timbre of his voice was far lighter than normal, hesitance coating his words in a way you weren’t expecting. You tilt your head with some confusion, not understanding his question as it’s phrased, “What do you mean?” 

The cedar hues of his eyes drift off to the side as though he meant to avoid your gently bewildered expression. 

“I just…I think of my brothers…I think of how we’re still living at home,” he chews his lip as he continues, “We’re adults…and yet we rely so heavily on our parents.” 

You nod as you take in his words, the idea of what he’s trying to ask beginning to formulate in your head. Karamatsu removes his hands, looking down at the guitar-worn digits, “I…” the sigh he lets out is palpable, “I feel like I have nothing to show for myself or my future. I need to know when I’ll be more than just…this.” 

Your heart sinks as you see the hurt show in full bloom on Karamatsu’s face. It’s a subject of conversation you often avoid with him, not out of dishonesty, but because you’ve seen what the call of independence has done to his family in the past. It’s a sore topic, you know this. Yet your hands find one of his own, enclosing the now tightly grasped fist and gently easing his fingers open to accept the warmth of your comforting ones. 

“Those are answers that take time…no one ever knows right away what their future holds.” 

Karamatsu looks on at the delicate hold you have on his hand before finally locking eyes with you. 

“Give yourself time and grace,” you say softly, “You’re exactly where you need to be…and the people who love you are happy to have the time with you that they do.” 

He swallows thickly at your words, there’s a kindness to them he feels he doesn’t deserve - but he absorbs each letter nonetheless. His free hand unfurls from its frustrated grasp, coming to blanket your reassuring touch with his own, thankful, one. He loses the ability to speak for just a moment, but he silently prays that the sincerity in his eyes reflects how grateful he is for you. You lend him a bright smile, tugging on the same you were still encasing, “Come, let’s finish our walk before it gets too cold.” 

The weight that on his shoulders shakes free of its hold as he’s yanked forward a hair. He stumbles before he remembers to walk accordingly, and he finds his steps feel lighter now. The pleased silence between you two doesn’t last long as he inhales once more, “Ah…”

Seeing him return to his usual self brings you joy, but that is quickly replaced with playful annoyance when he says, “I must be rubbing off on you, darling, with how poetic with your words you’re becoming,” the statement paired with the glint of his grin and his arms flared out in a dramatic display. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling though it’s easily accompanied by affectionate laughter, “If you say so, Karamatsu.”

[dantalionarchive]

Homegirl

yuji itadori x fem!reader wc: 1693 tags: weed sex/yuji calls you baby not beta read!

yuji is the type of guy who grows feelings for his girl best friend. i wanna kiss him so bad...

your toes curled in your fluffy socks as you sat beside yuji on his living room couch. well, his older brothers living room couch. you had been so busy with college you didnt have time for your best friend; until now. it was finally spring break, and you were finally back in your hometown. of course you were staying with your parents for the week since they wanted to see you, but they werent the only people you came back for.

when you told yuji you were back, he blew up your phone with excited texts and begged to facetime you. of course you agreed. you talked with him all night and woke up laughing together when you realized you fell asleep on the phone with one another. 

no one was closer to you than your homeboy yuji itadori. 

when you were free that evening, he invited you over to smoke. of course you said yes. you told your parents you were going to see yuji and jumped on your old bike, riding down to his place with a bag of weed in your back pocket, and a lighter in the front of your denim shorts. yuji lived in the big house two blocks ahead of yours. it was impossible to miss and the two of you always loved doing everything together. its funny how things worked out that way. 

you jumped off your bike, throwing it in his front yard as you ran up to his front door. he beat you to it. with a big shimmering smile, he wrapped you up in a tight hug and pulled you into his house. the sun was starting to set, and the smoke session was about to begin.

choso was nice enough to let you and yuji smoke in the house instead of sending you to the porch. as long as you didnt burn anything down. “its been so long since we smoked together, im sorry i only have cruddy weed.” you apologized while eyeing your crumbs of cheap weed nobara had slid you. 

an exchange for you being so kind as to drop her off at a sneaky link. the room was lit via the tv and a small table lamp on the side of you, making your contribution even more pathetic. “you know i would never ask you to bring weed. and this is all my brothers anyway.” he snickered as he emptied the shredded tobacco from the cigar wrap into a little, black grocery bag. “sukunas? he wont be mad?” you asked with worry as yuji rolled his eyes. “he stole my favorite red nike dunks. so im stealing some of his weed.” he frowned as he got into the much larger bag of weed to break up a few nugs. 

“be the bigger person.” you joked and gently nudged his thigh with your foot before your eyes returned to the tv. the two of you had put on an anime to watch, but neither of you were actually paying attention to it. just some background noise for the smoke sesh. with the blunt now rolled (and pearled) yuji scrambled for a lighter among the snacks and bottles of water. “here,” you pulled one out of the front pocket of your jean shorts. “dont lose it.” you smiled at him as he took your lighter. your fingers brushed his but you thought nothing of it.

you were yujis homegirl. and of course he was your homeboy. people always assumed you were dating, but that wasnt the case. you did have some unsavory thoughts about yuji from time to time, but he was your friend before he was an object of your desire. the blunt was passed to you and the ceramic ashtray was moved to the center for the both of you to share. 

the weed was superb. sukuna really was the greatest plug. making yuji the greatest plug via association. your eyes were starting to feel heavy as you leaned against yuji with the brown blunt becoming shorter and shorter. “should we roll another? use the weed i brought.” you offered him the blunt and he hummed in deep thought. you could see the shine of his thin gold chain dangling around his neck from the tvs glow. it pulled you in closer until yuji was holding the blunt, looking down at your hand resting on his thigh. 

“you okay?” yuji asked lazily as his body sank back against the velvet couch. you nodded, your hand still as you gave his muscled leg a small squeeze. his breath hitched softly as you moved in even closer. “whatre you doin?” he mumbled as the blunt hung from his lips. his eyes on you. “nothin.” you whispered as you eyed his crotch through his black basketball shorts. you were sitting on your knees now, your heart pounding in your chest until yuji grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you away. his cheeks were red and he was frowning.

“you dont have to do that.” yuji didnt sound angry with you. just anxious. “i want to though…” you trailed off with a weak frown, watching yuji put the blunt in the ashtray. “lets do somethin for you too.” the offer was quiet, the tv casting you both in a colorful glow as your pink haired best friend inched closer on the couch.

your lips met. soft and welcoming. you knew in that moment that this was something you both wanted. your tongues met with each messy kiss, drool coating your chin as yuji made his way on top of you. your back was digging into the arm of the couch now. your heart racing as your arms wrapped around him with a whine leaving your lips as he pulled away and moved lower.  

“wheres choso?” you panted as yuji sucked and kissed along your jugular, lightly and cautiously. “sleep upstairs.” you pulled at the back of his shirt, stifling another whine. “sukuna?” you worried about him the most. “his babymama house.”yuji mumbled against your skin as his warm hands slipped under your shirt, pulling at the front clasp of your bra as he sucked and licked at your throat.

you wanted him to leave marks. more soft sounds passed your lips as yuji pulled away and bunched your shirt over your chest. your nipples hardened once they were exposed to the cool air of the room. he looked down at you, contemplating his next move as you pulled your hands away and tugged at his shirt. he took your silent request and pulled the article of clothing over his head and haphazardly dropped it to the floor. his chest was exposed, and he dove in for another round of kisses as his large palms massaged your breasts. you were like dough in his hands. moldable and pliable for him to enjoy. it was like one of many fantasies you silently wished would come true.

his hands moved to your jean shorts, pulling at the button and zipper as he kept your moaning lips distracted with his. the denim was being yanked down your hips with your panties bunched in the fabric. they dangled off of your ankle as his hands moved between your thighs. his thumb rubbed at your clit. his fingers pumped in and out of you carefully crooking upwards. swallowing your yelps and cries as you trembled beneath him with nothing short of delight. when the sound of shuffling clothing returned you felt the pooling heat in your stomach leave a dull burn as his fingers pulled away. 

you needed yuji inside of you. his cock rested against the meaty petals of your pussy, the tip of his cock meekly greeted your clit with a few light, affectionate rubs. “can i?” he whispered, his voice airy. needy. just as needy as you. you gave him a lazy nod for a response, your body tensing when his strong arms lifted your hips into his lap, leaving you bent as he sank his thick, throbbing cock into your soaked cunt. 

his hips rocked with yours, his gold chain swinging before your eyes. the anime was drowned out by wet smacks of skin and soft moans. each drag of his cock left you light headed. you clenched tighter around him, mumbling soft sobs and ‘oh fucks’ with each piston. the mushroomy tip of his cock nudged perfectly against that spongy wall inside you. “your body was made for my cock. feel it baby?” he cooed, leaning in to meet your lips with his own. his rhythm steady and quick as he fucked you against the leather couch, letting you drag your nails against the bare skin of his back. it felt so good. better than you could have imagined. maybe it was the weed. maybe it was the feelings you held onto. maybe it was in yujis dna to have excellent dick. whatever the answer was, it was leading you to an orgasm; fast. 

your toes curled in your fuzzy socks, your breathing quickened as yujis thrusts became sloppy and rough. a thin trail of spit connected the two of you as he pulled away, pushing your thighs apart to get even deeper inside of you. “s-so deep yuji- mm’cummin…” you whimpered pathetically as your pussy fluttered around him. sucking him deeper and deeper as he nudged against your cervix. the sudden feeling left the coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight as yuji nodded. “you can come. cum with me? cum with me please? please baby?” he huffed and panted as his cock throbbed inside of you.

you nodded, your body quaking as your orgasm hit you like a punch. your body writhed as yuji hunched over you with a deep growl.

his cock pulsed, the feeling of a gooey warmth left your thighs trembling. the throbbing sensation intensified as your body grew sensitive from overstimulation. you could feel the pearl colored cum starting to leak out of you along with your own juices. but thats not what you were worried about.

it was the post nut clarity telling you that you just fucked your homeboy on his older brothers couch. 

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 13: The Song

Please continue to leave comments on the story and art! It’s very motivating 😊 (Chapter 12 was posted only a few minutes before this one!! Make sure you read that first!!)

32 Days until Competition

They skated for almost two hours, practicing routine step sequences and spinning themselves dizzy during combination twirls, and it was the most Elain smiled during a very unserious practice. She’d needed this.

She’d told Azriel about visiting the cemetery that morning, the biggest contributing factor to her rather bland mood. He’d done precisely what she’d expected him to do: listen, hold her hands, dust a kiss across her forehead. But one brush of his lips wasn’t enough. It was Elain who had asked for another. She could have sworn his face lit up brighter than the stars. 

On the bench, they removed their skates and massaged their feet, laughing as they recalled when Azriel lost his footing and fell backward onto the ice. Even a seasoned skater made mistakes, he’d reminded her with a wink. 

Elain shrugged on her puffy pink coat and fixed her hair, opting for two braided pigtails. For some reason she wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet. She felt lighter, rejuvenated. “Got any ideas for our song? That was probably the first thing we should have worked on instead of the routine.” 

Azriel pursed his lips, contemplating as he pulled on his hoodie and tucked his dark curls into a beanie. “I have a record player at home if you’d like to come by and listen to a few. I could order us a pizza too if you’re hungry, and I stocked up on a few wines just in case you decide to make more midnight appearances demanding alcohol.” 

Elain swatted his shoulder playfully. 

“Sounds awfully like a date there, mister,” She teased, zipping up her bag and moseying along toward the exit. His long strides caught up to her in just three steps. 

Azriel placed a hand over his heart, opening the door for her with his free hand. “Not a date, I promise. Just two friends eating pepperoni pizza and listening to music.” For his own sake, Azriel silently convinced himself it was a date. 

“Fine. On two conditions,” He raised a brow as she rattled them off on her gloved fingers. “We stop by the convenience store to get chocolate milk for my after-skate snack since I’m all out, and we get green peppers on half the pizza.” 

She couldn’t fully see his expression behind the gray face gaiter protecting his cheeks from the frigid air, but his shoulders shook as he playfully tugged the end of one of her braids. “Deal.” 

“So, why chocolate milk? What’s the story?” 

Elain chuckled as she and Azriel made their way into the small store. “It’s just a silly ritual I do after each practice. I think it started when I was eleven. I’d forgotten my water when I went to the frozen lake to practice one night. When I came home the first thing I saw was a cup of chocolate milk sitting on the countertop. I was so thirsty I finished it in three big gulps. Now after every practice, I treat myself to a glass. Plus, milk strengthens your bones anyway.” 

Azriel’s hazel eyes brightened as he listened to her. 

“That unoccupied chocolate milk just so happened to be Feyre’s,” Elain grinned, shaking her head. “That little girl sure had some…choice words to say to me. She didn’t speak to me for two days.” 

“Over milk?” He asked incredulously. 

“Do not underestimate the Archeron sisters’ love of chocolate milk,” Elain pointed a finger. Azriel raised his hands in mock surrender, leading her to the farthest corner of the store where the diary products were held.

“Oh, what the hell,” Elain frowned, breath frosting the glass as she stared into the refrigerator. 

Azriel followed her gaze, eyes dancing with laughter at the predicament. Only blueberry and strawberry milk were stocked on the shelves, leaving Elain with an adorable pout on her rose pink lips. In her moment of preoccupation with the lack of her favorite treat, he stared at her mouth just a tad longer and wondered what her lips tasted like. Wondered if he’d ever get the chance to find out. 

He grabbed his strawberry milk with a gloved hand, shaking it close to her face. She grimaced. “What's wrong with strawberry? It’s sweet.” 

“Yes, I know…but strawberry isn’t chocolate and I can't imagine it’s any good in milk, Azriel,” she said, glaring at the square box of milk in offense. He almost guffawed in the middle of the aisle. 

“Come on, try it,” He offered, stabbing the straw through the hole before pushing it to her closed lips. She didn’t budge, arms folded over her chest. “For me? I’m your partner. You’re supposed to trust me.” 

“Yeah, to not drop me on the ice,” Elain retorted. The lines etched into her forehead smoothed as she considered the pink milk. Locking eyes, she wrapped her lips around his straw and sucked. 

Azriel’s throat bobbed, palms sweaty beneath his gloves. Did the manager crank the heat up or something? “Well? What do you think?” 

She smacked her lips in a considerate fashion before offering him a lopsided smirk. “It’ll have to do for now.” Elain grabbed her own milk before they brought their drinks to the register, paid, and went on their way to pick up the pizza. 

“Hear me out,” Elain said, happily chomping away at her slice of pizza. They sat at the island in Azriel’s kitchen, surrounded by one large pizza box, small shakers filled with cheese, garlic, and oregano, and two half empty boxes of strawberry milk. “I’m thinking we could skate to a violin sonata or Piano Concerto One.”

Azriel’s own chewing slowed, one corner of his mouth slightly lifted higher than the other. “You want to do a…classical piece?” 

Her brows knitted, biting off another piece. She licked the sauce from her thumbnail, all the while Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“Oh nothing, nothing. I just didn’t know you wanted the judges to be snoring during our performance,” Azriel snickered, biting the top of his milk straw. Elain’s eyes gleamed mischievously as she plucked a pepper from her pizza, quickly chucking it toward his face. He surprised them both by catching it in his mouth. 

“All of my performances have been to classical pieces!” She defended, setting down her slice and leaning her elbows on the table. “Granted, I never had a say in what song we performed anyway since Lucien always chose them. Now that I think about it though, the songs were sort of…bland.” 

“Exactly,” He said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “They’re boring. Every year the judges watch at least three performances to classical songs. It’s repetitive and doesn’t evoke any emotion from them because they expect it,” Taking one last bite of crust, he said, “We have the chance to be different. To find a song they’ve never heard, but one that makes them feel. Sadness, joy, love. Something emotional and passionate and–.”

“And maybe sexy,” Elain finished, fiddling with the end of her hair. This was still new territory for her, voicing her opinion on their performance. When she’d represented the Autumn Region, everything was chosen by either Beron or Lucien. The music. The choreography. Their wardrobe. She deserved to have a say this time, and maybe it was Azriel’s calm demeanor that made it easier for her to speak up. 

She followed the way his lips parted, sucking in a rapid breath of air. He could only nod and affirm hoarsely, “Yeah. Sexy.” 

Elain held his gaze. “I want…something romantic, too. We have chemistry. We need to use that to our advantage.” 

“Romantic and sexy,” Azriel agreed, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s see what I've got.”

After cleaning up their mess, Azriel led Elain into the living room, where she sunk her toes into the plush white carpet. He readied himself by the record player, flashing her a grin before playing the first song. 

Her body swayed as she listened to the melody, which was a bit slower than she liked. To test how it would feel as a performance, she eased into a step sequence, moving gracefully around the room. 

“What do you think?” 

She shook her head slightly. “It's a beautiful song, but it’s a bit too slow. What else is there?”

Azriel flicked to another song, and she repeated the same moves, adding in spins and small jumps, careful to avoid the fireplace. After the song ended, she bit her cheek sheepishly. “Another pretty song, but that was way too fast. Got anything else?” 

Nodding, Azriel played through four extra songs while Elain tried to bring them to life through her movements, but nothing felt quite right. Too fast, too slow, too little emotion. As the last song came to its conclusion, she huffed, folding her hands over her hips. 

“Hey, hey, easy. There’s one more,” Azriel soothed, pressing play on the last song of the night. Elain readied herself, and as soon as the music flowed through the room, she began. 

Azriel truly couldn’t help himself. His eyes tracked her body, so in tune with the music it appeared she was floating. His chest tightened as she twirled, and maybe it was the song or the overwhelming itch to touch her again, but he found himself striding toward her position by the fireplace and taking her hands. 

Her eyes fluttered open as they danced, letting the rhythm and melody seep into their core. Just as he’d done at the rink, Azriel lifted her in his arms, securing her body to his chest as they became one. The tips of her fingers played with the dark hair at the nape of his neck before sliding down his skin. Their eyes never left each other, even as the song culminated.

“How about that?” He whispered, lips inches away from her panting mouth. He wanted to kiss her. He so badly wanted to fucking kiss her. 

She licked her lips once, completely unaware of how desperately he was trying to hold himself together, before blessing him with the most stunning smile he’s ever seen. “I think we found our song.” 

Artwork by @chachachai17: Here

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[daystarvoyage]

I loved your video on the masculization of Luz Noceda. Gender non-conformity is valid and woc who identify as such deserve representation. What is not okay is that a tomboyish Afro-Latina girl was paired with a feminine white girl which reinforces stereotypes about black women. This wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t so common in fiction. Interracial sapphic couples often have the butch be woc and the femme is white. There are exceptions, but they are far rarer. I would have preferred if Lumity was fem4fem, butch4butch, or Luz was fem and Amity was masc.

I feel this is the problem throughout todays disney media,how stale it reflects there previous works, they have put out that effected this, yes looking at toh, it was fine to have a main poc character contribute to diversity, and ok explore her sexuality which i commend the show does however,

It falls flat of not exploring luz's family,Ecthnicity, & show great cultural represenation like other works in disney like seeing the PS sponsors about different cultral backgrounds, cuisines and heritages.

The three shows did it better (molly mcgee, Moon girl & amphibia were better examples of how to do it right) and felt the crew of toh didnt have a clue or proper reseearch on how to execute a story of differences, ecthnicty & culturals. I mean you live in a fantasy world with over 100 species and your telling me, the show only fcous on the humanoid shape priveldege characters (which fans only pay attention to In beauty standard way. SMH

DO BETTER STAFF

However the big egg on the face after rewatcing the show ad reading the wiki, felt some parts being subpar, the way they potrayed luz and shelved aside, in favor for amity! it gotten to the point where along its writing and potrayal of the two was trite & selfisih writing.

I for one were along with critiques & well minded fans or who get it, that luz's Feminine traits were watered down, to favor amity's fem persona knowing fans would gravitate to her, and times the show pused luz aside (like other characters) in fans favor for the little white girl whos picture perfect and drained of what makes her unique even if the show doesnt catch on yall still find a way to defend her, Like the writing and storytelling of the show was Trite & Fradualent.

at times even if luz didnt had a proper sexuality to show her feminine side cause fans like to based people off sexuality instead of writting oraganic stories nowadays. (it wont matter a bit) cause at the end the potrayal of darker people are always degraded & disrespected,

along with the fandoms distatse and judgement of camilla knowing full well shes doing her duty as a mother! (whos also dark skin along gus so Picture how there portrayed.)

the way the fans and series portray luz without showing her girly side is that of a trope thats been done throughout to show agenda whcih is the girl boss movement to blame, so ima try not to be too long,

but it was foul how they made practically all the toh poc characters more obscured or watered down in writting cause everyone favored more of lighter skin characters as the show went on,

(the eclipse lake episode, HUNTER AMITY AND EDA TAKING OVER THE SHOW WHILE WILLOW AND GUS BE SIDELINED, LIKE THEM IN SEASON 1 FINALE, HUNTER BEING A PLOT DEVICE FOR HUNTLOW TO HAPPEN WHICH DOES NOTHING FOR THE STORY ITSELF INSTEAD SHIPPING DISCOURSE.)

so people need to understand the words favoritsim and bias at this point. cause they way they want to be with the in crowd badly and drawing or potraying luz in a butch way can stifle how we see POCs as nothing but masculine or tomboyish has be tiresome just to show a girlboss agenda yet you dont know WHO LUZ IS.

i thank you for sharing this with me cause i worked hard and loved that video cause its to bring to light of how the gaming industry trend is now leaking into animation now.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS & ENJOY THIS READ ABOUT MORE OF AFRICAN AMERICA MEDIA PORTRAYAL

[xvxnux]

` ♡ ~ lost in career ~ `

` pic one ,

you who connected with this pile may be lost, you don’t know what to do or where to go. don’t know what career to pursue. you may feel that you have no place in the world and that you are not likely to have a good career or be able to bear fruit. don’t worry because this is a moment of confusion, it’s a situation that wears you out and makes you stop. you are misaligned with the career you want and for the simple fact that you have not decided to follow career x. your career is a path that will allow you to travel a lot and even do some kind of monitoring, it can allow you to leave the country. i see that you will have a lot of love for what you are going to do and you probably already know what you want to do but you may find it impossible or that it will not give you a comfortable life (on my free readings and in one of these readings there was a person with a very similar situation… maybe she chooses that option or not, i hope she reads) but yes, it will give you a comfortable life and everything will contribute to that because you love what you going to do and will perform like no one else, it will make a difference. you will be happy and everything will flow. i also see that you may meet an important person on this journey. maybe it’s a soulmate.

` pic two ,

i see that, unlike pile 1, you are already on your way, you already know or have an idea of ​​the career you want to follow. here isee two situations. the first one; you may be in high school and already studying for what you want to follow and you may be going through a not very good moment in your studies and that makes you think that you will not get what you want. you may have had a low income and that frustrated you, making you doubt and discredit everything you want/dream about. but it’s just a moment, don’t give up and keep improving because yes, you will get exactly what you want! and for other people; i see that they are already on the way, they may be studying what they like and want but i see that they went through a moment where they felt incapable of not pursuing the course/graduation of what they want to pursue as a career. in this case i advise you not to give up because the situation will improve and give you clarity about the next step you have to take. anyway for all situations it is a career that will bring financial stability, it is as if every day you will have something new, something happening. people who chose this option may have a hectic routine during the execution of this career (i say after graduating). it will be a career that will allow you to successively sow and reap.

` pic three ,

this was definitely the biggest one, i considered all cards that fell as well as the other piles. this pile is very specific and may not resonate with everyone! this pile tells me about people who are forwarded, already studying and are in a different phase from the other piles. here he tells me about people who are not doing what they would like to follow in the future, that is, they may be studying medicine and want to be artists, for example. here i see that people want to get to a specific place and are working and studying something that will make it easier for them to get there. for other people I see that they are definitely not doing something they want and they may have been guided by their parents to follow this career and after dedicating themselves to what they really want. for people who are studying and/or working with something that will make it easier for them to reach a certain destination, i see that it will be a little lighter due to the fact that they are determined and determined to get to a place x, this can be a country or a city or even a specific professional area. for other people, i see that from the beginning it’s been difficult because it’s something totally different from what you want, they’re probably doing it to please their parents or those responsible for paying for the studies, for example. it will continue to be a little difficult for the person not to like it at all. if it is your decision to stay, i see that among all these bad and exhausting phases you will be able to finish and please the parents and i also see that a person can make this journey lighter for you and yes, it is a love and it can be a person from the same college or same course as you!! and for the other situation, i see that it will not be easy, but yes, it is a smart decision because it can facilitate and benefit you in the future, if you want to go to another country or professional area!

[sparklegemstone-cr]

The Legend of Vox Machina S3 E7-E9 Thoughts

Writing out some initial thoughts –

The non-verbal storytelling in the scene where Percy says “I’m in love with you” was cool to appreciate intellectually in a “I see what you did there” way.   The way the sun shines on Vex’s face with Percy’s confession and then how it disappears again as Vex isn’t sure how to handle it and her issues get in the way.  And then how Vex: “Percival I’m…” Vax: “Disarmed” uses Vax’s line to describe Vex’s internal state.

My favorite scene in E7 that stuck with me the most and was the most evocative and impactful was Vex’s vision of Percy burning alive in fire and screaming.  That was GREAT.

I’m still processing how I feel about the whole Ripley and Percy confrontation, right now I feel like overall it fine, but it could have been better and I feel like it’s partly my fault for having such high expectations.  I just wanted it to be more psychological and really build upon all the pithy angst with Percy’s history with Ripley and Orthax, and it ended up being a more of a plain action fight scene.  That’s not to say the fight scene was bad.  Like that tiny little flashback of Percy being tortured by Ripley induced by the gas was great, and I wanted that sort of thing to carry through more.  Not to say the action sequence was bad, though.  It was cool that it was an environment with infinite guns for Percy to pick up, the comment about Vax making the fall and roll looking easy was fun, and the feeling of Percy being injured and all alone in a one vs. many battle and still holding his own was neat.  But because he was alone it meant the dynamic between him and Ripley had to really shine to carry the sequences in the absence of Percy’s dynamic with his friends, and I didn’t feel it quite got there.

Seriously, fuck Ripley.  “Mages killed your family” fuck off.  Would not be surprised if she was directly responsible for killing at least one of the de Rolos.

I did notice how closely they are paralleling her backstory with what she did to Whitestone.  She’s doing exactly what was done to her.  The Assembly attacked the town specifically for the rock/mineral resources, which is what she did with the Briarwoods to create residuum and also just recently in E6 to steal more residuum.

I am shocked that Percy didn’t die protecting Vex.  I would have bet money that that’s what was being set up, particularly because Vex saved Percy AGAIN in the Whitestone battle.

The initial fake-out of Percy being mortally wounded and then him pulling out the protective metal from his shirt was great, playing with the moment a lot of fans were expecting.

I’ll have to go back and watch it again, but on first watch I wasn’t sold on Percy’s speech to Ripley right before she killed him, and like’s he’s halfway to smiling while offering her mercy.   Like maybe there’s a world where they really emphasized that Orthax and not Ripley was primarily responsible for everything she’s done this season (500 DEAD, 800 WOUNDED) and emphasized Percy empathizing with her soul being corrupted by Orthax where it would fit better?  I get they are pushing Percy in a lighter (i.e. opposite of dark, not frivolous) direction this season, but they spent so much time on how Percy feels responsible for Whitestone and protecting it, and then teased us (boo!) with darker Percy at the end of E6 that they then didn’t deliver on and didn’t really show how he could go from “washing my hands in Ripley’s blood” to what we got in E7.�� Also, the speech itself didn’t even really make sense, talking about bringing her to justice, but then also talking about her future contributions, as if justice wouldn’t be execution or life imprisonment anyway.  Vox Machina kill bad guys all the time, and this is where you get precious?  It would have made a lot more sense to me if Percy not killing Ripley was aboutwhat he wanted for himself and what it would mean for him to commit the act or not commit the act, instead of making it about Ripley. But ultimately I’m assuming Ripley and Percy have a 3rd (!) and final showdown coming at some point, so I don’t have to hang my hat on this scene in particular being the end all and be all.  I’m thinking of this as more of an intermediate step in the Percy / Ripley arc and am glad there’s hopefully more to come and more for the writers to say on the matter. Maybe if this encounter wasn't darker / more psychological like I was hoping, that is still yet to come, and the problem is the expectations I had were more for a "finale" of an arc vs. when it ended up being was a stepping stone along the way that can't outshine what's to come.

I think they could have made the mortal wound hit the audience harder.  You could barely see he was injured, it went by kind of quickly without a lot of time for Percy to react, and then he was just still on the ground.  There’s so much you could have done – focusing on him in what he realizes are his last breaths, trying to drag himself away from Ripley and leaving a trail of blood on the floor, etc.

I also have mixed feelings about the song overlaying Vex finding Percy at the end.  It didn’t prevent me from feeling things, but I’m also not sure it was the most emotionally effective punch they could have thrown.

What did VM do with the massive factory of guns?  Kind of important.  Also what about all the guns that were in there?  Are we supposed to believe Ripley took them all?  It didn’t seem like there was that much time between the fight and VM entering the factory.

I’m surprised they didn’t tie Pike not being able to access the Everlight’s healing powers into the end of E7, like with Pike frantic not able to access her powers while trying to do something, anything over Percy’s dead body.

Orthax has been begging to eat Percy this whole season, they made a point to explain that Orthax gets the souls of the people killed by Ripley’s weapons, and then Ripley shoots Percy with said weapon.  No me gusta.  Mmm nmmm.  No thank you.  Haaaaaaaaa.  Literally just got goosebumps thinking about it.

LOST MY MIND at the opening of E8 being VM meeting Percy for the first time.  Was not expecting that at all and it was such a TREAT and I LOVED IT and it was also a balm for the soul to see that beginning and have another moment with Percy right after he died.  That was a great, great choice.

The thing that hurt the most in episode 8 for me was the full frame image of the stone sculpture of Percy on the top of his casket.  It wasn’t seeing his body or anyone reacting to his death, though I appreciated that they showed Vex really deeply affected by it.  Something about the stone, it just looks so much like him and really drilled home that he’s gone, part of history and the past now.  I would have liked to see more reactions from characters and for the episode to sit more in the emotion of loss and grieving rather than having to quickly gear up into the attack on Thordak instead.  I can kind of rationalize Vox Machina not being devastated and keeping going because 1) they’ve already processed and recognized that they could die doing what they are doing so it’s not like this is an unthinkable shock, it’s a probably outcome and 2) they need to keep pushing on the existential threat that is Thordak, but still like other episodes I think this episode suffers from trying to fit too much into it.  We didn’t even get a proper reaction from Cass.

Really enjoyed Vex and Syldor getting to hash things out more

The way they did Kash getting killed was great.  Like, you could see the massive amount of blood, but then he stands up and you’re like “oh, wait, he’s okay after all”, and then you realize that nope, he actually is very dead.  Great work keeping the viewer on their toes there.

The action fighting Thordak was awesome.  The carnage.  The screams.  The violence.  Armies getting mowed down.  You could really feel the impact and weight of everything.  The only scene that felt a bit weird to me is when they stopped the music and the intensity and Thordak just stood there for Scanlan to have a quick chat with him.  I’m sure there’s considerations about how you just can’t blast at 100% the whole time, but the Scanlan / Thordak scene felt like we suddenly took the foot off the pedal and was weirdly ‘folks just standing there chatting’.

I thought they did a great job balancing giving Pike her huge moment with the Plate and then also giving Vax the final kill.  Both felt like huge, earned moments and special for both of their characters without detracting from the other.

Over and over they were like “For Percy!” when fighting Thordak but Thordak didn’t kill Percy??  Like I know indirectly, without Thordak, they wouldn’t have gotten into the Glintshore situation to begin with, but still seemed kind of odd.

Even though we've still got the 'to be continued' with Raishan, because we don't know what she's doing and what the stakes are of her still being alive doing her thing, I don't feel the threat of her yet and Thordak still feels like the big bad so E9 feels a lot like a finale to me.

[batty4steddie]

Can I Keep It?

@spicycinnabun and I's contribution to steddiebang 2023! ❤️️ | Chapters: 4/12 | Rating: M | Read, kudos or comment on ao3 | We have a playlist. ❤️️ | Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Chapter 4: Rough Day, Sweetheart?

Steve’s nerves were shot from everything that had gone down. It was half past ten by the time he got home. He needed some peace, quiet and weed. Dustin had run his mouth all damn day. He loved the kid, but damn, he never knew when to shut up. Steve felt like a forty-year-old single mother who just needed a cigarette once the kids went to bed. 

While his mom was probably disappointed that he hadn’t been home for dinner, he knew she’d still have a plate waiting for him in the fridge. 

From the outside, Steve was surprised that it was completely dark inside. He entered the same way he’d exited the house, through his bedroom’s sliding glass doors. He thought that was probably best since it looked like his dad had made it home from work. He thought he’d gone on a business trip, but now his and his mom’s cars were in the driveway. 

The first thing he did was turn on a light. The soft, dim glow from his bowling pin lamp illuminated a completely passed-out metalhead who was looking particularly soft in his bed, dressed in Steve’s favorite pajamas, and to top it off, his hair looked tamed and bouncy—a telltale sign his hair products had been used. Eddie looked too damn peaceful to disturb, so Steve didn’t. 

He headed over to his closet after he shrugged off his jacket. He put it away, having to push his letterman jacket further back to make room. He kicked off his Nike’s and tried not to groan at how stiff his body felt from the fright Sinclair had given him.  He had to get out of his jeans. God, he was a mom.  

Steve stripped right down to his boxers, losing his collared polo, too. He went to take a piss before coming back out. He went to his dresser next and immediately took a pair of socks out from the back of the top drawer. He kept a small baggie of rolled blunts in this specific pair of socks. He took one out before balling the socks back up. He put the joint between his lips while he closed that drawer and opened another. He dug around until he found his next favorite pair of pajama pants and pulled them on. 

Steve still felt warm from getting heated earlier, so he left his shirt off. He quickly grabbed a lighter he had hidden in his pencil holder on his desk. He lit the blunt and walked back over to the sliding glass doors, and opened them a crack, knowing he had to let the smell out if he was going to enjoy this blunt by himself.

* Eddie’s nose lifted in the air and twitched a few times before his eyes opened. He thought maybe he was still dreaming because the first thing he saw was a silhouette of a half-naked man in the window and the pungent musk of that elusive Miss Mary Jane. Eddie squinted and sat up, wiping his eyes a few times to clear them. 

The half-naked man was Steve, of course, and Eddie had fallen asleep in his bed. Whoops.     The alarm clock told Eddie it was ten-forty. It had been several hours. Steve’s back was facing him, so Eddie took a moment to observe him quietly. 

It was a strange situation to be in. Not like it was the first time he’d stayed over at a guy’s house, but Steve wasn’t his friend. Eddie was an invader. His hands felt naked, too, without his rings. He shouldn’t have taken them off to shower. 

That was the smoldering cherry of a lit joint between Steve’s fingers, though, and that was enough to dislodge any weird shyness Eddie felt.     Eddie made a show of stretching and groaning to make it clear he was awake. He then rolled off the bed, padding over to the sliding glass doors Harrington was currently looking out of. 

Steve was taking his first wonderful puff when he heard Eddie stirring behind him. What were the odds that weed was what woke him up? Steve smiled around the joint. 

Waking Eddie with his joint was one way of getting him out of his bed. Steve really wasn’t trying to do that, though. He would’ve taken the couch since Eddie was his guest, after all. He had manners and wouldn’t disturb a sleeping man. 

Even though the door was only open a crack, the cold air hit Eddie’s sleep-warm body and made him fold his arms around himself to contain his heat. He didn’t know how Steve was shirtless right now. He took in Steve’s posture, his head hanging slightly in exhaustion.     “Rough day, sweetheart?” Eddie asked with a coy smile and the over-the-top faux sweetness of a nineteen-fifties housewife, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. 

Of course, Eddie was being cute. Steve’s mind was already easing as he took another drag. When he turned, he caught Eddie playing with his hair. He couldn’t stop a second smile as he blew out the smoke and took Eddie in. 

His hair looked nice, and he didn’t smell as funky as he had when Steve left—he smelled like warm spice mixed with a little sleep musk and clean from soap and a bit like him from his clothes. Yeah, it was nice. 

Steve wanted to answer and say, “Yeah, it was rough,” since it seemed so genuine of a question, but didn’t. 

No guy had ever called him sweetheart before. It made him shiver. Although, it could have just been the freezing early March air he was letting billow into the warm room.

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly. He had no idea Harrington was such a hairy beast beneath those polos. Jesus Christ. It was enough to discombobulate his thoughts, but he quickly recovered, dropping the act (and his hair) as the severity of the situation hit him.  “It’s pretty late. What happened? Everyone alright? Any news?”  Steve lifted the joint and offered it to Eddie so he could answer his questions. “There was another death nearly identical to Chrissy’s: Fred, Nancy’s friend from the school paper. They went to the trailer park to investigate what happened. They split up to ask questions, but Nancy couldn’t find him. They found him dead on the road. That’s what all those cops were rushing to when we saw them earlier. Don’t know if you knew him, but the police still suspect you somehow, but still haven’t released your name. Some people in Hawkins might’ve concluded that it was you without them confirming it.” 

Eddie’s stomach dropped. Vecna had claimed someone else. He didn’t know any Freds off the top of his head, so he shook his head minutely, accepting the joint with fingers that trembled with a little more than just the cold. 

“Jason, Chrissy’s boyfriend, he was the one insisting it was you. You were the last person who saw her,” Steve continued. “He’s after Dustin too now, because he thinks Dustin knows where you are.”  

Steve knew it was a risk hiding Eddie, but Jason wouldn’t think Eddie was here. Jason didn’t know he and Dustin were friends as far as he could tell. 

Eddie paled even further. He more than knew Jason, not that he was about to mention that to Steve. He was exceptionally grateful for the toke, pulling it in as deeply as his lungs could handle before exhaling. “Fuck,” he muttered, passing the joint back to Steve. “Fuck, man.”     The THC did its magic, dulling some thoughts that tried to start rapid firing in his head, turning them into more of a leisurely ping-pong game instead. Hopefully, Carver wasn’t lame enough to go banging down Mrs. Henderson’s door, and Dustin would be safe tonight. 

Steve could see that Eddie was cold, and he felt another shiver coming on when Eddie’s hand grazed his as he was giving the joint back. Steve flicked the bud outside and pulled the door shut as soon as it was finished. 

He walked over to his bed and sat down. It was still warm and made. Eddie hadn’t even gotten under the covers. Steve shifted and leaned back against the headboard. He put his legs out in front of him since he started feeling more relaxed. “Thanks for keeping my bed warm,” he told Eddie, patting the spot beside him. He wasn’t ready for bed just yet. 

Eddie let out a soft huff, debating whether he should explain. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Harrington’s bed; it had just happened. Steve didn’t seem too bothered about it, so he relaxed.  “Couldn’t resist testing out the royal bedsheets,” Eddie replied. 

He climbed onto the empty side of the bed, sitting in the center facing Steve, his legs pulled up like a pretzel and his arms wrapped around them. 

Steve waited for Eddie to get comfortable before he went deeper into what was going on. “We think Vecna’s next victim is Max. She had a vision tonight. Same one Chrissy and Fred had a day before they died… Heavy shit, man.” 

Eddie listened carefully, focusing better on Steve’s words and not the other stimuli around him, thanks to MJ’s help. “Shit, poor Max,” he said, tone sympathetic. He rubbed his mouth. Vecna had his sights set on her now. They had to stop him before he got to her, too.

They both stewed in that silently for a few minutes.

Steve wasn’t high enough to spiral. He was just high enough to have the munchies. He changed the subject. “Hey, you hungry? Bet my mom left dinner in the fridge, and I could sneak one of my dad’s beers for us to split. I could use some beer. Bet you could, too.” He smiled a dopey smile as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

“Starving, and always,” Eddie said. “Can I come with you?”  

Steve’s parents had probably gone to bed already, right? The nap had envigored him, and he wouldn’t mind seeing more of the Harrington house. 

Steve hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he was starving too. He hesitated, but just for a second. He finished climbing off the bed and gave Eddie a nod. “Course you can come.” 

Steve waited until Eddie un-pretzeled himself, then led the way up the stairs. 

There wasn’t a need to worry about his parents. It was silent. The TV wasn’t on in the living room, so they most likely had gone to bed, given the time of night. It was eleven now, and their room wasn’t even on the same floor as the kitchen. It was right off the basement stairs, so it was a quick trip for Steve and Eddie. Not that he couldn’t just lie about who Eddie was if his parents found them raiding the kitchen, but he knew his parents well enough to know they wouldn’t be checking on him. 

When they reached the first floor, they were met with a modern eighties kitchen. It had lots of tiles and wooden cabinets, with hidden appliances that were just covered with wood paneling. The space was large and open, perfect for entertaining, as more windows and another set of sliding glass doors led outside to the currently winterized pool.

Eddie looked around curiously at all the appliances. There was a blender on the counter with the biggest bowl of fruit beside it that Eddie had ever seen. He wondered if Steve or Steve’s parents made smoothies with that. Was Steve a protein shake kind of guy? Ick. 

Steve went over to the fridge and opened it. There it was: his mom’s pot roast, waiting for him with a note that read Stevie . He smiled. She was always so thoughtful. 

Steve started pulling out the roast as well as the sides. His mom always made two sides: a potato and a vegetable. The pot roast had carrots and potatoes, but she had also made mashed potatoes and corn.  It looked so fucking good, even cold. 

Eddie’s attention caught on a picture affixed to the fridge door with a lemon-shaped magnet. The photograph was of a much younger Steve in a swimsuit and goggles and an older man and woman whom Eddie figured were Steve’s parents. Steve was between them, a big smile on his face. He was holding up a silver medal to the camera. Steve’s dad was borderline unsmiling, looking out of place in a stiff business suit, but Steve’s mom was grinning, her arm around Steve’s shoulders. 

“I’m excited,” Steve told Eddie as he grabbed a couple of plates and started dishing out the food onto them. Luckily, they didn’t have to eat it cold since he had a microwave. He put them in it, and while they were warming, Steve cleaned up the dishes and returned to the fridge for the beer. 

Sure enough, his mom had gone to the store earlier, and they were fully stocked again. His dad wouldn’t miss two beers, now would he? Steve smirked and snatched them right out. He passed them to Eddie so he could get their food out before the timer went off. God, it looked so good. “Bet you haven’t had a meal this good in your life. My mom’s an amazing cook.”

Eddie tore his eyes away from the photograph when two beers appeared in his hands. “You’re probably right,” he said, eyeing the loaded plates. “Although, I did have dinner at Dustin’s house once, and Mrs. Henderson made us a pretty mean Hamburger Helper Stroganoff.” The squiggly noodles had reminded Eddie of Cthulhu’s tentacles, which had made eating the grey sludge a little more fun. “Your mom might have some competition there.”

Steve had to smile when Eddie brought up Dustin’s mom. He loved her, too, and she was a pretty good cook. He could agree with the mean Hamburger Helper. Steve also liked that, but his mom did a lot more cooking from scratch than Dustin’s mom did, which couldn’t be beat. Eddie would find that out with his first bite. Steve grabbed a couple of forks and led the way back to his room. 

He couldn’t help but be grateful for his mom whenever she cooked for him and his dad and still did it, even if neither of them were home on time. She’d been a good mother to him and a good wife. It wasn’t fair that her husband was unloyal, but Steve was about to eat and wash away those harboring feelings.

Eddie followed Steve’s lead and settled on the couch with his plate on his lap. Their fingers brushed again as Steve passed him one of the forks. Steve’s fingertips were overly warm from handling the hot plates. Eddie nearly dropped the fork between the couch cushions but managed to save it before it fell. 

He cracked open the beer first. He hadn’t had water in a while, but beer was hydration, right? “I’ve never had pot roast before,” Eddie said after he set his beer down on the coffee table. 

The meat was so tender it didn’t even need a knife. The mashed potatoes were buttery and glorious. Even the vegetables tasted good. Eddie inhaled half his plate before he felt the ghost of Uncle Wayne’s hand smacking him upside the head for eating like an animal and forced himself to slow down. Chew your damn food, boy. 

“Never had it,” Steve commented softly and shook his head about Eddie never having pot roast. How? He thought that was sad. It was one of his favorite foods. He couldn’t imagine never having had it before.  

He took a long swallow of his beer before he started eating. Steve didn’t think Eddie was eating too fast. He chalked it up to the good food and Eddie just being hungry from going all day without any. 

Steve didn’t know much about Eddie’s home life. He knew he was unpopular and poor… given he lived at the trailer park with his uncle. Eddie was also older than him by a year, or maybe they were the same age. Steve thought he was supposed to graduate a year before he did, though. 

Regardless, Eddie was an adult on his own, pretty much. He cared enough to try and finish high school despite his parents not being around.  

 “I wonder if the police questioned my uncle yet,” Eddie said suddenly, putting his fork down. 

Jesus, his uncle probably thought he was a murderer. He probably hated Eddie now. Was Eddie ever going to see his uncle again? And even if he did, would Wayne want anything to do with him? 

Steve sat his fork down, too, and tucked some of his hair behind his ears. That triggered his memory of where they’d gone today—they’d swapped information when they’d sat down together at the picnic table. “They questioned him, alright. Nancy mentioned that she had questioned him, too. He didn’t want to talk to her at first since the police weren’t having that you didn’t do that to Chrissy. She said Wayne defended you. He said that he knew you and you’d never do a thing like that.” 

Eddie’s insides twinged in guilt, and his nose burned a little. His uncle had defended him to the police—of course, he had. Wayne was the only person who had ever thought Eddie was worth a damn for anything. And even if he did think Eddie had done it, he probably still would have defended him. Munsons weren’t snitches. 

“I wouldn’t,” Eddie confirmed, somehow getting his emotions back in check before he did something stupid like cry (again). 

If he got out of this mess somehow, he would have to defend himself with his own words, but knowing his uncle was still in his corner was comforting. Weirdly enough, it seemed like King Steve was, too. 

“No way anything human could’ve done that to one, let alone two people.”  

Steve needed more beer. He set his plate on the coffee table, grabbed his beer, and started downing it. Today was way more stressful than he’d care to admit. Despite embarrassing himself in front of everyone and Dustin being Dustin, the alcohol couldn’t hit him fast enough. He wiped his mouth after finishing the bottle. 

He noticed that Eddie had finished his food, and his beer was half-empty. Steve put his hand on Eddie’s knee. “You can have what’s left of my food if you’re still hungry. You want another beer?” He patted Eddie’s knee as he stood up and picked up the empty plate to take it upstairs. 

Eddie’s knee flew up like a bird startling and taking flight, but Steve had already let go. He set his foot back down quickly and slumped back against the couch. Why was his heart racing? More importantly, why did Harrington keep touching him? 

Eddie shot Steve a nervous smile, jaw ticking as he tried to appear normal. Or at least normal-ish. Another beer wasn’t going to be enough for either of them. “Uh, got anything stronger?”

Mr. Harrington had to have a liquor cabinet they could raid. 

Steve’s eyebrows rose at Eddie’s suggestion. It was as if he had read Steve’s mind. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be right back,” he promised. 

Eddie’s nervous smile dropped as soon as Steve left the room. Now, it was just him and the remains of the pot roast Steve had left on his plate and offered to Eddie. Eddie’s nose wrinkled at the thought of eating somebody else’s leftovers. Still, Mrs. Harrington’s cooking was too tasty to resist, and his stomach wasn’t full. He quickly finished Steve’s plate and set it back on the coffee table, trying not to think that that fork had been in Steve’s mouth, and then it had gone into his mouth, so technically, they had swapped spit. 

*

It had been a while since Steve had raided his parents’ liquor cabinet. They had a wet bar upstairs for entertaining, but the cabinet was where the harder liquor was. 

Steve rinsed and dried the dishes in the kitchen, tucking them back into their places. He paused and listened for any noise from upstairs before going to the cabinet. He crouched down on his knees in front of it and held his breath as he started to open it. The wood creaked incredibly loud. He paused again, but still not even a stir from upstairs.  

He let out a breath when the doors were finally open. There was a good mix of bourbons, gins and whiskeys. American, Irish and Japanese. Steve grabbed one from the back. Surely, this bottle of Jameson wouldn’t be missed by his father. Steve groaned internally when the bottle clinked another as he pulled it out. He quickly shut the doors and stood up, then grabbed two whiskey tumblers from the bar and practically ran back to his room. 

Unsure of where his nervousness had suddenly come from, Steve turned it into a confident grin directed at Eddie. He proudly showed him the green bottle and set the glasses on the coffee table while he used his mouth to help him open the bottle. 

Eddie sighed thankfully when he saw the whiskey. MJ was wearing off. “You’re officially my favorite person right now, Harrington. Top of the list. Admittedly, a short list to begin with, but at the top, there you are.” 

Steve could feel his cheeks warming. Even if it was just because he’d gotten them booze, he liked being liked. He wasn’t expecting praise from Eddie. Granted, he was harboring him, had fed him, shared his weed with him, and now they were going to drink together. As jealous as he felt when Dustin acted like Eddie had hung the fucking moon, he had really come around. Something about Eddie just made Steve want to take care of him. 

Steve playfully shot the cap from his mouth in Eddie’s direction before pouring a good amount into each of their glasses.

Eddie laughed as the bottle cap hit him on the nose, batting it away. He leaned forward to grab one of the glasses. The lights flickered as he was about to take a sip, making him pause with the rim against his lips. They blinked again, a low buzzing in the air, then held their brightness.  “That happen a lot?” 

Please say yes, Eddie thought. He tipped the glass and swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, gulping against the burn. 

 “Nope,” Steve replied, throwing back the entire contents of his glass.  

The burn distracted him through the lights flickering, and luckily, they didn’t continue. Steve sat back on the couch, bringing his glass and the bottle. He quickly refilled his cup and topped off Eddie’s before setting the bottle down. He just sipped this time. It stung his nose worse, and he felt his cheeks starting to get rosy again.  

“Nothing good ever happens when the lights start to...” Steve gestured towards the lights, and they flickered in a heartbeating motion. Steve blinked a couple of times and looked at Eddie to ground himself. 

It was going to be okay. They were safe. Everyone was safe. For now, Steve could feel his mind, probably from the booze, starting to help him let go of the fear that had been raging since the previous night.  

“Ugh,” replied Eddie. His jaw clenched briefly with nerves, but the whiskey would calm him down in a few minutes. He just hoped Vecna wasn’t about to go for him or Steve right now. 

Eddie distracted himself by moving to sit sideways on the couch, one leg folding underneath him so he could look at Steve instead of whatever ghostly shit was happening with the light bulbs. The movement made him aware of how closely they were sitting next to each other. His knee was only an inch away from touching Steve’s leg. Steve was already looking at him, his face flushed. 

Looking at Eddie helped Steve, too. He was smiling. Was he getting drunk? Steve laughed, though he didn’t know what was funny other than he and Eddie Munson were hanging out and getting drunk. The turn of events couldn’t have been wilder. 

Eddie didn’t think he’d be in this circumstance ever in his life, either. He understood why Steve was laughing. 

“I never thought we’d hang out as badly as Dustin wanted me to play D&D with you guys,” Steve said. “What’s that even like? Is it actually fun?” 

Steve couldn’t comprehend D&D the few times he’d been around when Dustin, Mike and Lucas had played. He chalked it up to something incredibly nerdy. He also knew he probably wasn’t smart enough to follow. On top of being competitive as hell, it just wasn’t for him, was it? 

“Is it actually fun?” Eddie’s face quickly became animated. “Man, I wouldn’t have been playing it since I was thirteen if it wasn’t, so obviously, I think it is. Play isn’t even the right word. It’s not just a game, okay? It’s an adventure. And never the same adventure, either. Each campaign has a new story that unfolds differently.” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes slightly, going on the defensive automatically and daring Steve to make fun of him. He was aware of Dustin’s eagerness to try and get Steve to join their party, though he’d been less than enthused at the idea of a former jock coming in and crapping all over their game. Actually, he had openly expressed his disdain—several times. 

Eddie’s voice drew Steve right in. Steve tried to focus. While he always acted uninterested, he’d caught glimpses of the joy the game had brought his younger friends, and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t piqued his interest a time or two. Sure, he didn’t understand it—there were many things Steve had trouble comprehending—but it was part of why he was asking.  

Steve could draw parallels between how he felt about sports and how Eddie felt about D&D. It wasn’t just a game. He’d said that, too when people had told him that losing the state championship wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just a game. Bullshit. 

Eddie poked Steve in the shoulder. “Have you ever wanted to be someone else before? Be some where else? Somewhere where the normal world doesn’t exist, and magic does? Be a hero? Hell, maybe you want to be the loyal sidekick to the hero who gets to slack off and have a good fucking time. You can even play a villain if that’s your thing. You can create whatever sort of character you want. Be whoever you want.” 

Steve felt himself starting to nod. There were times he had been the hero and the villain—in real life, though. “I don’t think I’ve ever really wanted to be someone else.” Steve had been pretty content with who he was. Now that he was done with sports and school, he felt more like himself than ever.  

No, I guess you wouldn’t have, thought Eddie. What reason would King Steve have to want to change who he was? It must’ve been nice to feel so secure in himself growing up. 

“I get the appeal, though. Wanting to be in a different place, be surrounded by different people and have magical powers…” Steve laughed at saying that out loud. It reminded him of El. Was she a real-life D&D character? “Tell me about some of your magical powers in DND.” He was genuinely interested. Was Eddie a hero or a villain? Did he use his powers for good or evil? 

Eddie found no unkind laughter in Steve’s eyes when he searched them. Maybe because they were drinking, Steve was more open to conversation with the freak and his freaky game, but maybe he truly wanted to know. Eddie smiled at him then, warmer than he had all night.  

The whiskey was absolutely hitting him now because Steve was beginning to take the shape of a handsome knight. A shiny coat of armour and a big sword would suit him. 

Eddie had a habit of imagining what characters people would play. Jason Carver, for example, was a Sibriex: an enormous, hideously constructed demon that oozed blood and bile and smelled like rotting vegetation.  

“I’ve cast many spells and wielded very powerful magic in my days, Sir Harrington.” That came out much flirtier than intended. Eddie swirled the whiskey in his glass instead of taking another sip. Too much more, and he’d be batting his eyes like a cheap tavern wench. “One of my personal favorites to cast is Fireball. Pretty self-explanatory, that one. It’s a low-level spell, but it always adds a bit of chaos and flair to the battlefield.” 

Becoming enamored with Eddie's speech about the game, Steve listened intently and felt his face heat up rapidly. His cheeks were pink, probably from the whiskey, but could it have been from Eddie calling him Sir Harrington? Like the knight in shining armor he always craved to be. Who knew? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Steve couldn’t help but stare. Eddie was so animated and passionate. Steve was entranced. He was doing the impossible: making something incredibly nerdy sound cool. 

“And then there’s Meteor Swarm. That one is just plain fun, man. It’s like Fireball on dru—” 

The stereo turned on, whooshing with loud, dead air. It crackled at a volume of one hundred, overloading the speakers. The lights burned intensely bright, and the bulbs broke with a loud pop. 

It startled Eddie so much that he was the one to reach out for Steve this time, grabbing his forearm and squeezing it hard as they were plunged into darkness.  “Jesus!” Eddie hissed. 

The screeching sound caused immediate pain in Steve’s ears. He was about to cover them with his hands to stop the piercing noise from hurting him further when it suddenly became silent. The speakers had blown. 

Vecna was doing this. The Upside Down was creeping into Steve’s house, but why? He didn’t know or understand. 

Eddie’s hold made him tense up because his grip was so strong, yet Steve could feel Eddie trembling behind the tight grasp. He didn’t know what to do and had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. From experience with the Upside Down, he knew whatever was happening wasn’t good. Vecna wasn’t done fucking with them yet. 

Steve had an urge to run to his bed with Eddie. They could get under the covers and wait out whatever was happening. Pretend it wasn’t real and it wasn’t happening like they’d done when they were kids. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t kids, and this wasn’t a fictional monster—the kind Steve’s dad would reassure him wasn’t there and wasn’t real. This was happening, and it was real. They couldn’t hide. It was something they had to face right now. 

Maybe it was naive to believe that they were safe. Steve thought bringing Eddie there was a good idea and that his house would be a safe haven. Somehow, he thought it would still be okay. 

Eddie was still holding on to him. Steve touched his arm. “Eddie, it’s alright,” he said confidently. Steve gave his arm a soothing rub and a reassuring squeeze. 

Steve was touching him again. This time, it was probably because of Eddie’s death grip on his arm. He couldn’t see much of Steve in the dark, but his voice was calm, and his hands were soft like he put on lotion twenty times a day. 

Steve was feeling lightheaded, trying to figure out what to do, not because of the situation or because Eddie’s touch was raising his blood pressure. 

Eddie started to breathe normally again when the spell between them was broken. 

“ROBERT!” 

The scream made the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up even higher.

The next thing they heard was a loud thump directly above them, and immediately following, there was another softer thump. Steve’s eyes got big, and he jumped up, dismantling Eddie’s grip. “Mom? Dad?!” 

Taking off, he ran up the stairs as fast as possible in the dark to see what was happening to them. 

Eddie didn’t want to follow the cry of terror. He really didn’t want to. Every muscle in his body was locked, and screaming do not fucking run towards that it is BAD news, but Steve was already up, and Eddie couldn’t let him face this alone. 

Scrunching his hands into fists, Eddie stood up.  “Steve, wait!” he called. 

Luckily, he hadn’t had so much whiskey that he couldn’t walk straight, but it seemed to be doing the trick in making him more courageous, thank Christ. He caught up with Steve when he was already at the top of the staircase, staring in frozen horror at a middle-aged woman who’d collapsed in front of a half-ajar door. 

It was Mrs. Harrington, the maker of that wonderful pot roast—the maker of Steve.  

Eddie touched Steve’s shoulder before kneeling beside her with him. She looked ashen and unmoving. Eddie pressed two fingers against her neck, searching. He waited a few seconds before looking up and admitting, “I don’t… I don’t feel a pulse.”

[worflesbian]

things i liked about strange new worlds:

the costumes (aside from the starfleet uniform) were so intricate and cool!

the alien designs, especially the practical effects and makeup, were inventive but not overdone

it tried to take a lighter tone than the prevailing edginess of current sci fi, there were some fun moments and genuinely good character stuff bc of that

things i disliked about strange new worlds:

okay i've got to give the context of the journey i went on with this one. i didn't initially like how chapel, uhura and t'pring were written bc the first two were basically brand new characters and t'pring's inclusion messes with continuity so badly, but i found myself being won over by the seemingly honest intention to give more screentime and depth to the otherwise underutilised women of 60s trek. that's an admirable goal! i didn't like how they had to rewrite uhura and chapel's personalities to achieve it but i still respected the intention. until several things became clear to me: firstly, the writers of snw are far better at lighthearted writing than serious drama, and secondly, they cover up that deficit by taking their cues from soap operas. i think other people have mentioned that giving every single character a tragic backstory is not a shortcut for writing realistic sympathetic people (this was the main problem they had with uhura), and that relationship drama and love triangles is not a solution to not knowing what to do with your female characters (the main problem with chapel and t'pring), but it stands to be said again because it's so fucking frustrating! why bring in uhura only to kill off her loved ones and make her suffer needlessly? why bring in t'pring under the guise of developing her relationship with spock only to have him leave her for chapel? why bring in chapel and rewrite her as a hashtag girlboss looking to advance her career if she's theoretically going to end up still a nurse on the enterprise pining for spock by tos? there's no reason or purpose to the plotlines so they just feel aimless

m'benga, una and la'an also suffered from needless tragedies, as well as the writers' difficulty tackling serious subject matter. i liked the plotline with m'benga's daughter and the pre-holodeck holodeck episode that concluded it, but the man got no time to grieve or adjust to the loss before they threw him into a war trauma plotline. una's main character moment was a weaker version of several stronger trial episodes in past trek that came very close to saying something slightly challenging (to the average trek viewer) about race but apparently forgot the real reason that eugenics are bad, and have been bad long before fictional warlord khan noonien-singh was on the scene. la'an's gorn trauma plotline was, like many of snw's "serious" episodes, ripped directly from better sci fi. like i could've been watching aliens. aliens is a good film. ortegas got very little to do and pike isn't really worth talking about as i think the writers know he's not that interesting and tend to sideline him anyway, so aside from hemmer (rip) and spock (it's all been said) that's the full cast and it's all pretty disappointing!

i'll also say that while i enjoyed the lighthearted episodes more, the only one that i felt was actually warranted or contributed meaningfully the overall season was the body swap episode in s1, but then in s2 they repeated the same formula with a far weaker episode so even that's lost its shine for me. politically the show is a mess as many others have explained (the whole gorn thing...) and when it comes close to making a point it always seems to flinch away into a marketing-approved federation optimism that feels way more sinister than it ever did in tng for the fact that it's obviously Trying to keep you from thinking too deeply about anything. the number of gimmick episodes they've already done in two short seasons is indicative of a fundamental lack of substance that they're trying to cover up with whimsy but it just feels unearned and imbalanced. shallow hijinks or vapid angst, void of meaning.

so yeah now that discovery's concluded with its fifth season, stp is dead and gone, and prodigy is cancelled it's only strange new worlds and lower decks left and although i believe lower decks relies a lot on references to older trek (i've not seen it) it's not inserted itself awkwardly into some past era of the timeline, nor is it bogged down with legacy characters, meaning strange new worlds is the last remaining pillar of the reboot remake rehash industrial complex in current trek and i hope you'll join me in wishing for its downfall 🤞

[peachetteprice]

not anon from badass-reader x ghost, BUT

i think the story would have an extra special tone to it if it had more of a non-sexual affectionate tone, maybe a “just another day for a badass couple” vibe?

i don’t know how to explain it, but i think this feeling is super heartwarming, especially if it isn’t accompanied by sex/smut. you do you though!! story’s gonna be great either way

Ah! You see, that makes more sense, logically and thematically! I was really struggling to place the idea of smut into it, but now that you've said that, that it doesn't have to be a requirement, and it might make sense to do something lighter, it makes the idea much clearer in my mind!

Although you're not the original anon from the initial prompt, I have a feeling that og!anon would appreciate your contribution! I have some paragraphs completed on it so far (but as I said, I was struggling!) so I'll tweak it and get busy as a bee tomorrow! (It's 1:30am for me rn lol)

Thank you so much for the help! I really appreciate it. I'm blessed to have such lovely anons in my asks.

Thank you again, gorgeous!

[somethingmissingthiswaycomes]

Would it be weird to ask how you plan out your embroidery designs? If not weird and you have the time/spoons do you have any tips?

Oh no worries, I am the OP! @handmadehazefromtheheart is my craft account. ^w^ You were referring to this post, right?

Asking isn't weird at all btw. I like questions. :3 Though I dunno if my answer will be the most helpful, since I'm still pretty experimental with my embroidery.

For the brain, I literally just doodled onto the fabric with a water soluble pen.

For the latest piece before that, I traced the outline + important features of a picture I had of my girlfriend by holding fabric pinned in a hoop up to my laptop screen. Then I flipped the fabric around in the hoop so it was right ways up. I did the same with her music logo, which I made for her birthday this year.

Mostly, though, I've been actually drawing out patterns on paper.

I trace them onto the fabric using a white screen behind it. (I literally just Google "white" and open an image full screen.)

Getting the colors right is hard, but I'm getting the hang of it I think.

For the brain, I decided as I went which sections would be which shade of teal on the fly.

For the portrait, I gathered various shades of coral (the color of the InfiniTints prompt it was for) and then separated them into groups based on where I thought each shade would work best. I had a hair pile and a skin pile, and in each pile I determined which would be used for lighter areas and darker areas based on the picture I was using.

For the In Decay logo, I did pretty much the same thing but with whites and greys, though I haven't shown off the full thing yet. (I'm going to do that in a special way. :3c Stay tuned.) The mouse had the same process. The mouse was actually the first one I did it like that for, and I love how it turned out—and the fact that a duplicate made as a commission came out so nice after.

You can kind of see on the clover pic above that I actually labeled it for where I wanted which shades of green. I should probably do that more.

I've mostly been working with long and short stitch, but working on this pre-made kit has helped me get a sense of how to use different kinds of stitches together.

So far, the brain is the most deliberate in terms of different stitches.

[ID: A two second video showing off the embroidered result of the brain sketch near the top of the post. It's mostly satin stitch, but the outlines are all stem stitches, and there are French knots in some places next to backstitches and split stitches that swirl. /end ID]

I'd say I've improved a lot from my first attempt last year:

Oh... I got away from myself writing that out, didn't I? I hope you got what you were asking for out of it! 😅

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 6: Heart

It was a week before Antonio’s gift ceremony. Technically, it was also a week before his birthday, but in the Madrigal family, one celebration took clear precedence. Julieta was in the kitchen, pulling together dough for some arepas. For some reason, her family always liked those best. Keeping her company at the table was Mirabel, surrounded by her box of multicolored threads and swatches of bright fabric.

Julieta snuck a glance at Mirabel. The girl was so focused on her work, worrying her lip as she put together bits of fabric in different patterns. It warmed Julieta’s heart.

“What do you think, mamá?” Mirabel held up two different colored swatches: one a lighter brown, one darker.

Julieta tapped her chin, thinking. “Show me again what you’re using as the base.”

Mirabel pointed to a strip of bright yellow fabric. “That one.”

“Then I’d go with this one.” Julieta selected the lighter shade. “It matches better.”

Mirabel nodded sagely. “You’re right. Thanks, mamá.” Humming to herself, she set down the other swatch and set out cutting the one in her hand.

This was a very special project for Mirabel. For Antonio’s ceremony (and birthday…whatever…), she was sewing him a stuffed jaguar toy. Ever observant, Mirabel had noticed that Antonio gravitated towards animals, and wanted to make him a present reflecting that. Jaguars were big, brave, and strong, Mirabel said. She could see Antonio was nervous about the ceremony, considering what had happened at the last one, and wanted to offer him some comfort.

Someone lesser might be envious, or even bitter, that Antonio would get to experience what she hadn't. But that simply wasn't Mirabel's style. Kindness spilled out of her like water from a spring. All she had ever wanted was what was best for people.

Kneading her dough, Julieta watched Mirabel out of the corner of her eye and smiled. She loved all her children, of course. They were all treasures in their own right. But Mirabel…Mirabel was special. Despite having been skipped over by the Madrigal gift (a fact that had never changed Julieta’s view of her), Mirabel was able to bring light wherever she went. What she lacked in magical power, she made up for in kindness, enthusiasm, and hard work.

At first, Julieta had worried about her. Not getting a gift as a Madrigal-born is something that had never happened in living memory, and as relieved as Julieta was that Mirabel would be spared the pressure placed on herself, Pepa, and the other children, she was also concerned about how others would see her. Just like she feared, people began treating Mirabel differently from the other Madrigals. A more cynical person might say they weren’t as inclined to be kind since Mirabel didn’t have a gift to offer them. Julieta was more charitable. She chalked it up to ignorance and their own pain, as well as seeing how some of Mirabel’s own family members treated her. That was an ugly truth she could not deny. As much as she’d talked to her girls (and her niece and nephew when appropriate), children were forgetful and could be unintentionally cruel. Her mamá...that was a different story.

However, none of this cruelty discouraged Mirabel. If anything, it made her even more determined to prove that she could contribute to this family just like the rest of them. Although her contributions may not have been as conspicuous, Julieta certainly noticed them.

When a kid was alone and had no one to play with, Mirabel played with them. When Dolores needed someone to listen to her for a change, Mirabel was there. When Camilo needed a breather from being whoever people needed him to be, Mirabel cheered him up with jokes and goofy songs.

The list went on. She would sit with her tía and let Pepa feel her feelings, no matter how it affected the weather. She’d helped her parents with chores; taking on laundry and ironing all by herself. Her papá had shown her the way around a needle and thread when she was younger, and Mirabel had taken to it instantly. One by one, she’d embroidered designs on all of their clothing, each personalized to reflect the wearer’s gift and personality. Whenever Julieta needed help, Mirabel was always there to lend a hand, no matter how unpleasant the task.

She never complained. She was never ungrateful. Instead, Mirabel gave of herself in every way she could. Julieta could not be prouder of how her little girl was growing up.

A stack of arepas filled the waiting plate next to the stove. The sun moved across the sky. Julieta had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the time fly by. Letting out a deep breath, Julieta turned off the stove and turned to face Mirabel.

She was focused intently on her work, sewing a seam on the jaguar. Bits of fluff poked out of the toy, some landing in Mirabel’s hair and on her clothes. Finally, she set down her needle with a flourish. “All done!” She announced excitedly.

“Let me see,” Julieta prompted her, waving her forward encouragingly.

Mirabel held out the toy.

The jaguar was covered in spots cut out of the fabric they’d chosen together, sewn in place with every color of thread Julieta could think of. It had buttons for eyes, a pink nose, and even cute little whiskers sewn on. In other words, it was-

“Perfect,” Julieta pronounced, clapping her hands together.

Mirabel brightened. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” Julieta nodded. “He’s going to love it, Mira.”

Mirabel jumped out of her seat, wrapping her mom in an enthusiastic hug. “Thanks! Now I just have to hide him so I don’t ruin the surprise.” She scrambled around to tidy up her work area, corralling her various bits and scraps in their box. Once she’d gotten everything to fit (the absence of one jaguar’s worth of material making it easier), she ran upstairs.

Julieta washed the dishes she had dirtied up while cooking. Sure, Mirabel hadn’t received a magical gift. But her heart was the biggest gift of all.