#he deserves a little joy and stability in his life

[doesephs]

“but your honour, kevin’s gay” SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP all i see is two queens

[palaceoftears]

Magnificent Century Rewatch: One Picspam per Episode

Episode 17: The Double Joy

-My dear mother used to say "walk barefoot on earth and it shall take away all your troubles and sorrows, earth shall give you happiness and joy"

-Your mother spoke well, one can only find peace in earth. But I'm not sure if it is on earth or in it.

[amournoir]

Hi can u do a fic where the reader and Klaus are in a relationship and the mikaelson's hate her .

Thanks

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 ┄ 𝐢

pairing: niklaus mikaelson x f!reader

count: 1.4k

warning: angst

author’s note: thanks for the request hun! 💋 p.s, here's part 2

The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life, and Y/N, Klaus Mikaelson's spirited and vivacious girlfriend, seemed to embody the very essence of the city's energy. She reveled in the thrill of the night, seeking joy and adventure wherever she went. But little did she know that her vibrant spirit was causing a storm within the Mikaelson family. 

Rebekah and Elijah, Klaus's siblings, observed with disapproval as Y/N led Klaus into the wild festivities of the French Quarter. They detested her carefree nature, seeing her as a disruption to the carefully constructed order of their lives. In their eyes, Y/N was a distraction, a youthful folly that would only lead Klaus astray. The siblings had made their opinions known countless times, urging Klaus to end the relationship. They saw her as a threat to their family's stability and tried to set him up with a "more suitable" woman— a 30-year-old socialite whose poise and maturity contrasted sharply with Y/N's exuberance. 

One evening, as the Mikaelson family gathered for a somber dinner, tensions reached their breaking point. Rebekah and Elijah, fueled by their desire to protect their brother, confronted Y/N, leveling accusations of infidelity.

“You're nothing but trouble,” Rebekah hissed, her eyes flashing with disdain. “You're not right for Nik.”

Y/N's face paled, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are you talking about? I love Klaus with all my heart,” she protested, her voice trembling.

Elijah shook his head, his tone cutting like a blade. “You're young, reckless, and unreliable,” he stated coldly. “You're only going to hurt him.”

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she struggled to find the right words to defend herself. She had always tried to be honest with Klaus, to give him everything he deserved, but now she felt like she was being torn apart by the very people she had hoped to call family.

“I love him,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “I would never hurt him, and I would never cheat on him.”

But her words fell on deaf ears, and the Mikaelson siblings remained adamant in their disapproval. Klaus, torn between his love for Y/N and his loyalty to his family, was caught in the crossfire of their bitter dispute. For days, the rift between Y/N and the Mikaelson siblings grew wider. Each encounter was fraught with tension, with accusations and misunderstandings that only deepened the wounds. Y/N felt isolated and alone, her heart heavy with the weight of their judgments.

One night, as the moon hung low in the sky, Klaus found Y/N sitting alone by the fireplace, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. He approached her, his heart aching at the sight of her pain.

“Love talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice soft with concern.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Your family hates me,” she whispered. “They think I'm not good enough for you.”

Klaus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I don't care what they think,” he said firmly. “I love you and I won't let them come between us.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the constant pressure from his family weighed heavily on Klaus's mind. Doubts began to seep into his heart, and he found himself torn between his love for Y/N and the desire to mend the fractures in his family. In the depths of his turmoil, Klaus faced an impossible choice— to stand by the woman he loved or to appease his family by letting her go. His heart and mind waged war within him, leaving him in a state of inner turmoil that threatened to consume him.

As the darkness of uncertainty loomed over their once blissful relationship, Y/N and Klaus were left to navigate the shadows of doubt and find a way back to each other. The storm of angst and heartache showed no signs of abating, leaving them with the ultimate question…could love conquer all or would the family's disapproval be too much to bear? 

A few months had passed without another confrontation from his siblings but that silence period was over today. The Mikaelson mansion stood in silence, its opulent halls shrouded in a heavy tension that seemed to seep into the very air. Y/N, the vibrant and spirited love of Klaus Mikaelson's life, felt the weight of disapproval from his siblings bearing down on her like a storm cloud. At 23, her heart beat fiercely with a passion for life, but to Elijah and Rebekah, she was nothing more than a youthful whirlwind that threatened the delicate balance they had carefully crafted. 

It was a chilly evening, and as Y/N wandered through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing emptily, she couldn't shake the sense of unease that seemed to linger around her. The disapproving glances, the hushed conversations that ceased when she entered a room— all of it gnawed at her soul. It had been months since she had embarked on a romantic journey with Klaus, a love that burned with an intensity she had never known before. But even that powerful connection couldn't shield her from the critical eyes of his siblings.

Rebekah's icy words had sliced through the air like a blade. “You're just a child, Y/N,” she had said with a condescending tilt of her head. “My brother deserves someone who understands the dangers of our world.”

And Elijah, the embodiment of elegance and poise, had looked at her with a mixture of pity and dismissal. “Klaus is not one to be taken lightly,” he had warned. “You need to be more mature, more level headed.”

Each word had etched itself into Y/N's heart, a constant reminder of her perceived inadequacy in the eyes of those she so desperately wanted to accept her. As she entered the living room, she found Klaus standing by the grand window, nursing a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. His gaze was distant, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and weariness. She approached him, her heart aching at the distance she felt growing between them.

“Klaus,” she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

He turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of conflict and affection. “Y/N,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

The silence that followed was heavy, a chasm that seemed to swallow their words before they could be spoken.

“I can't do this anymore love,” Klaus finally confessed, his voice breaking the stillness.

Y/N's heart shattered, the pain more intense than she could have ever imagined. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Klaus's gaze was tortured, his emotions warring within him. “Elijah and Rebekah,” he said with a sigh. “They won't accept us. They think you're too young, too impulsive.”

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. “And what do you think?” she choked out, her voice quivering.

Klaus reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek with tenderness. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “But I can't keep going against my family. It's tearing us apart.”

The pain in Y/N's chest was suffocating, a weight that threatened to crush her. “So, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I'm saying that we need to take a step back,” Klaus admitted, his voice barely audible. “Perhaps it's best for both of us.”

Y/N's heart shattered completely, and she took a step back, her eyes welling with tears. “You're choosing them over me?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Klaus's eyes filled with anguish, and he reached out to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. “Y/N…” he started desperately. “I love you, but I can't keep fighting this battle. I'm sorry sweetheart.”

The room seemed to close in around her, and Y/N turned and fled, her heartache echoing in the emptiness that surrounded her. Days turned into weeks, and the absence of Klaus felt like an ache that she couldn't escape. She could feel the weight of his absence in every corner of her life, a constant reminder of what once was.

As she stared out at the moonlit night, Y/N realized that love was not always enough to conquer the obstacles that life placed in its path. She had lost the man she loved, not because he didn't care, but because the world they lived in was too complicated, too tangled with expectations. lol She whispered his name into the night, her heart heavy with sorrow, Y/N learned that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures that threatened to tear their world apart. And in that painful realization, she felt the bittersweet ache of a love that had been both beautiful and heart wrenching—a love that would forever remain etched in her soul.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @madetragic @spike-and-angels-gf

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[aemondsquill]

ok well now we all need an alternative “keep going” ending where they do make it. you know, for our mental health and stability.

Keep Going (alt ending)

Aemond Targaryen × Pregnant!Reader

Hey I'm happy to oblige! This ending will contain some good ol' tooth-rotting fluff because this family deserves some PEACE!

This is going to start right when they reach the mouth of the cave before Daemon appears.

Warnings: Mentions of war, fighting, violence yadda yadda yadda, we stan Rhaenyra in this household

"Escaping into the night with your treasonous husband, daughter?"

Y/N's blood freezes as Daemon slinks out of the shadows along with ten bloody thirsty Queensguard.

"Father, please. Rhaenyra promised us safe passage. We want no part in this war." Y/N put her hands up in surrender gently, as if approaching a wild animal. Daemon chuckled, but the humor did not reach his cold eyes.

"Whose idea do you think it was to send you that raven, my dear?" Daemon sneered. Betrayal, grave and cold, threaded through Y/N's entire being. A tender heart so easily swayed by pretty promises on a page. And she fell for it so easily. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. Aemond gripped the hilt of his sword beneath his cloak, ready for a blood bath. 'Run. Run, you insolent little girl.' He begged internally.

Before he could unsheath his sword a defeaning roar rattled the granite around them. All eyes turned skyward at the site of Rhaenyra, beautiful and fearsome atop Syrax.

Syrax lands gracefully upon the beach.

"Let them pass, husband."

Daemon looks startled at his Queen's sudden appearance.

"My daughter is attempting to smuggle out the Kinslayer! She must pay for her treason!"

Syrax stalks closer and Daemon, flanked by the Queensguard, only steps back further. He was a fearsome knight, but without a dragon he was still merely a man. This was a fight he would not win.

Rhaenyra glares down at him. "I will deal with the Kinslayer after I take back the throne. Right now your daughter needs him as she is carrying his child. Let them pass or you will meet the same fate Aegon will." Y/N and Aemond could only watch in pure astonishment, surely this was all a cruel dream? Aemond silently thanked the gods numerous times, promising to spend the rest of his waking moments honoring them.

Daemon begrudgingly demanded the Queensguard to stand down. Y/N grasped her husband's warm, yet trembling hand in her own and lead him to the rowboat that awaited them. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest and bile nearly rose in her throat. So close to death she had been.

Aemond could not help but let a small smirk linger on his face as he passed Daemon. The older man could only tightly grip his dagger and snarl as a way to restrain himself.

Aemond helps Y/N into the little rowboat and hops in after her. He takes a moment to fully embrace her. He wants to remember her warmth and the softness of her skin. When he pulls back he just gazes at her lovingly, hoping to commit every little feature and flaw to memory. The slope of her nose, the bow of her lips, and her bright violet eyes that glow in the moonlight.

Aemond's chest fills with warmth at the site of her, such a perfect little wife she is.

Finally, he reaches down and caresses her belly. He can feel the delicate movements of his child within and joy floods his veins. How could he be so lucky? The thought of losing either of them overwhelms him and causes his chest to clench painfully.

The whiplash of emotions took a toll on Aemond. Just moments ago he was fully prepared to give his life to save his bride and now he is rejoicing and thanking Rhaenyra, his half-sister who he had learned to hate. This vile woman who intended to steal his brother's throne, whose bastard children were seen as equal to him, bestowed the greatest mercy upon him and he couldn't help but stare at her in admiration.

Rhaenyra watches them, heart warming at the sight of her stepdaughter receiving all the love she deserves. She could not bear the thought of taking away that child's father, knowing what she went through after Harwin's death. Rhaenyra's eyes felt misty at the memory of him.

Rhaenyra kept a protective eye on them as they rowed further and further away, until they were just a dot in the distance.

"You would so willingly kill your own daughter, husband? That makes you no better than the Kinslayer." Daemon looked down in shame, but he knew she was right. He was acting out of anger and he knew he would've come to regret murdering his eldest daughter.

---

The couple reached the island where Vhagar waited. Neither could believe they even made it to the boat.

Y/N was overcome with emotion.

"I thought we were done for! Almost murdered by my own father!" She wept. Aemond just held her tightly in his arms and gently pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I would not have let it come to that. I would give my life for you and our child." His thumb brushed away the tears that rolled down her cheeks as he smiled down at her.

Aemond knelt down in the sand and placed his forehead against her belly. "Hello, little one" he cooed, "I want you to know I will always protect you. You will never feel fear as long as I am around. I will spend the rest of my days loving and cherishing you." He pressed a firm kiss against Y/N's swollen stomach, sealing his promise.

[hollyoongs]

˗ˏˋ 𝝡𝝪ꓴ𝖭𝗚ᒍ𝖠𝗘'𝗦 ᒍ𝝤ꓴ𝙍𝖭𝖠𝗟 (𝗇𝗼t 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝙧𝘆!!!) || M.J.H

—0.0: expand your creativity, son

ᨓ 。bnd myungjae × fem reader ꒰🍭꒱﹕teeth rooting fluff ﹕+2.3k

𝙨𝗂𝗇𝗼𝗽𝙨𝗂𝙨

Jungkook didn't know what to do; he tried everything to tone down his son's energetic behavior after countless teacher's notes, but when he saw how his son loved to write him appreciation letters ever since he learned how to write (and how calm he stayed for more than five minutes), the idea of a diary came to his mind. But he didn't know that his son would love that journal (his son's words) so much to even write about his first love, but also how much she hated that girl with pigtails and a beautiful smile who didn't share some of her crayons with him.

Jungkook walked to Jaehyun's classroom, smiling fondly at the rest of the parents that were picking up their children when he saw them. Almost all of the parents there were going to turn forty, dressed in their corporate suits or gym clothes, carrying an air of experience and stability. And there he was, a twenty-two-year-old single dad, standing out not just because of his age but because he felt like he was living in a world entirely different from theirs. He had an all black outfit pair with some combat boots of the same color and his leather jacket, and the small smile that reached his lips was more out of habit than ease.

At the fresh age of sixteen, he had won and lost something at the same time: he won the love of his life, his little boy Jaehyun, whose wide eyes and mischievous smile were a mirror image of his own. The first time he saw Jaehyun after his ex gave birth, he cried—because he couldn’t believe something so perfect had come from him and because he knew how much responsibility had landed on his young shoulders. His girlfriend, Jaehyun’s mother, had been quick to back out. The reality of teenage parenthood was too much for her, and after a few months of tearful arguments and sleepless nights, she left without saying much. One day, there was a note on the table, and her things were gone. She didn't want anything to do with them anymore.

Jungkook had been scared—terrified, really. He was barely figuring out who he was at sixteen; how was he supposed to raise a baby? But the moment Jaehyun grabbed his finger with that tiny hand, all the fear was replaced by an overwhelming sense of purpose. He wasn’t just a teenager anymore; he was Jaehyun’s dad.

The first few years had been tough. He had to grow up fast, faster than any of his friends. While they were still figuring out how to sneak into clubs, Jungkook was learning how to change diapers in the middle of the night. He remembered the nights he would stay awake, not because Jaehyun was crying, but because he was worried—worried if he was doing enough, if he could provide the life his son deserved. He dropped out of high school to work odd jobs, from a delivery boy to a part-time barista, doing whatever it took to make ends meet.

But as tough as those early years were, they were also filled with moments of quiet joy—Jaehyun’s first steps, his first word. Dad. The first time he toddled over to Jungkook with a crayon drawing, showing off the crooked lines like it was the most important piece of art in the world. Each of those moments reminded Jungkook that, even though his life had taken a completely unexpected turn, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Now, at twenty-two, things were a little more stable. He had gotten his GED, was working as a tattoo artist part-time and as a photographer and video editor for a very well-known brand, and while life was still chaotic, they had a rhythm—a bond that was unbreakable. It wasn’t always easy, especially when he saw parents who had their lives neatly organized, with their pristine schedules and picture-perfect families. But every time Jaehyun looked up at him with those same round, sparkling eyes, he knew he was doing okay. More than okay. He was doing his best.

And that was enough.

As Jungkook approached the classroom door, he saw Jaehyun still scribbling away on a piece of paper in the small playground next to the classroom with some of his friends, oblivious to the world around them. His son’s tongue stuck out a little in concentration, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile.

Just as he was about to call Jaehyun’s name, a voice stopped him.

“Jungkook-ah!” Taehyung’s warm, familiar voice carried across the room. They smiled at each other as he strode over with his signature boxy smile, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Jungkook chuckled. “What’s up, Tae?”

Taehyung motioned toward Jaehyun with a tilt of his head. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your little guy. Let's go inside.” Both of them went into the classroom, with Taehyung taking a seat in his chair and Jungkook at his friend's desk.

Taehyung and Jungkook met each other on their first day of high school and were also the first to know that Jungkook was going to be a father.

Taehyung had been by his side through it all—the late-night talks, the moments when Jungkook didn’t know if he could handle the pressure, and even the small victories like Jaehyun’s first birthday party. After graduating, Taehyung didn't have second thoughts and decided that teaching was his passion, later on becoming a teacher for kids.

He was even the one that recommended to Jungkook to enroll Jaehyun in it. It was only fitting that Taehyung ended up being Jaehyun’s teacher.

“Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward slightly, a trace of concern in his voice.

Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his hair before resting his elbows on the desk. “Jaehyun’s a great kid. You know that. Bright, imaginative, kind.” He paused, giving Jungkook a reassuring smile. “But I’ve noticed he’s having a little trouble sitting still, especially during lessons. It’s nothing we can’t work through, but I just thought it might be good to talk about it.”

Jungkook nodded, though he already knew where this was heading. He had received more than a few notes from Taehyung and other teachers in the past about Jaehyun’s boundless energy. No matter how much they tried to redirect it, Jaehyun seemed to always have an endless well of enthusiasm that couldn’t be contained by a classroom setting.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, too,” Jungkook admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve tried cutting down on his sugar intake, setting earlier bedtimes, giving him more outside playtime—but nothing seems to work long-term.”

Taehyung smiled sympathetically. “Sometimes, it’s not about toning down the energy, but finding the right outlet for it.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Well,” Taehyung began thoughtfully, “I’ve noticed that whenever we do creative writing or any drawing activity, Jaehyun is one of the few kids who actually sits down and focuses. He really gets into it. He wrote me a story the other day about a superhero who could run faster than the speed of light.” Taehyung chuckled, pulling out a piece of paper from his desk drawer. “We both know that he wrote "Flash," but I have to say. It was pretty impressive the approach he had, to be honest.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up as he took the paper from Taehyung. He recognized the messy handwriting, grammatical errors, and colorful doodles along the edges. Jaehyun had always been expressive with his drawings, leaving notes for Jungkook all over their apartment, little tokens of appreciation, or just random thoughts. He never realized it was a way to help his son focus.

“That’s actually really cool,” Jungkook said, staring at the paper with a growing sense of pride.

"He has your art and writing skills, JK." Taehyung leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Maybe you could encourage him to keep writing. Let him express all that energy. It might not solve everything, but it could help him channel his thoughts and feelings in a more structured way.”

Jungkook thought about it for a moment, his thoughts being interrumped by a gasp.

"Dad!" he saw Jaehyun running to him with another paper in hand and a big smile on his face. “Look what I drew today!” Jaehyun beamed, holding up a crumpled sheet filled with colorful crayon drawings. His energy was contagious, and even though Jungkook had just been discussing his struggles, all he could do was smile.

“Whoa, buddy, this looks amazing!” Jungkook kneeled down to Jaehyun’s level, ruffling his hair as he inspected the picture. It was another one of Jaehyun’s imaginative masterpieces, this time depicting a castle with dragons and knights. “Did you make this all by yourself?”

Jaehyun nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement. “Yeah! And Mr. Kim said it was really cool too!”

Taehyung chuckled from behind his desk. “I sure did. I even said he could teach me a thing or two about drawing.”

Jungkook laughed lightly, but his thoughts lingered on what Taehyung had suggested earlier. Writing. Drawing. Maybe Jaehyun didn’t need to be calmed down; maybe he just needed a way to express all those thoughts buzzing around in his little head.

"Okay, Jaehyun. Take your stuff and wait for me outside. I'll go in a minute." Jaehyun gave a soft kiss on his dad's cheek and started running to his table, taking his superhero bagpack and doing as he said. He turned again to his friend. "I think I have an idea and, thankfully, something."

Taehyung grinned, standing up and giving Jungkook a firm pat on the back. “You’re a good dad, Jungkook. You’ve always been. Jaehyun’s lucky to have you.”

Jungkook felt a warmth spread through his chest at the words. He didn’t always feel like he was doing things right—most of the time, he was just winging it—but hearing that from Taehyung, someone who had known him for so long, gave him a small boost of confidence.

“Thanks, Tae,” Jungkook said quietly.

As they walked back outside, Jungkook’s eyes landed on Jaehyun again, now chasing one of his friends around the playground, laughing wildly. His heart swelled with affection, and in that moment, he decided he’d do whatever it took to help his son, no matter how small the steps.

"Let's go, Jae!"

Jungkook watched Jaehyun race across the playground; he knew this was one of those moments. The ones where everything seemed to fall into place, where the love he had for his son overshadowed any doubts or fears he held inside. Jaehyun was a whirlwind of energy, yes, but he was also a whirlwind of joy. That was what mattered most.

On their way home, Jaehyun couldn’t stop talking. About his day, about his friends and activities, and about the new superhero team he was imagining. Jungkook listened, smiling, but his mind was focused on the idea that Taehyung had planted.

Jaehyun is really similar to him, just in his extrovert form. And if he really was similar to him, then he will need something that would allow him to be himself.

Later that evening, after dinner and a bath, Jungkook sat down with Jaehyun. “Hey, buddy, I’ve been thinking,” he started, pulling out a small notebook from behind his back. “How about you write in this every night before bed? You can write stories, draw, or even tell me about your day.”

"Like a secret diary? That's for girls, dad."

Jaehyun’s laugh echoed in the room, but Jungkook caught the hint of uncertainty in his son's eyes. He sat down beside Jaehyun on the bed, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “You know, buddy,” he began, his tone soft but thoughtful, “there aren’t things that are just for boys or just for girls. Anyone can do what makes them happy.”

Jaehyun tilted his head, still clutching the small notebook. “But my friends at school say diaries are for girls. They don’t have any.”

Jungkook gave a warm smile, leaning in a bit closer. “Well, your friends might not know the whole picture. Some boys don’t talk about the things they write or draw, but that doesn’t mean they don’t do it. Writing in a diary or a journal doesn’t make someone any less of who they are—whether they’re a boy, a girl, or anything else. It just helps them express their feelings, and that’s something anyone can do.”

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, considering his dad’s words. Jungkook continued, choosing his words carefully. “You see, everyone has feelings, right? Sometimes we get happy, sad, frustrated, or excited. Writing them down helps us understand what we’re feeling and why. It’s kind of like when you draw—when you’re in your own world, making up stories about superheroes and castles. That’s for everyone.”

Jaehyun looked at the journal again, his little fingers running over the cover. “So… it’s okay if I have a diary?”

Jungkook smiled warmly and nodded. “Absolutely. It’s more than okay. It’s yours, and you can fill it with whatever you want—your thoughts, your dreams, your drawings. And it doesn’t matter if other people think diaries are for girls, because it’s not about them. It’s about what makes you happy.”

“But Dad,” Jaehyun asked, his voice quieter now, “do other boys really have diaries?”

Jungkook nodded again. “Lots of boys do. I do. And even if they don’t call it a diary, they might write stories or keep track of things they love, like songs, drawings, or goals they want to reach. Everyone has different ways of keeping track of what’s important to them.”

Jaehyun seemed to relax a bit, his fingers flipping the notebook open again. “So I can write whatever I want? No one will laugh.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook reassured him. “And if anyone does laugh, it just means they don’t understand it yet. But that’s okay—they’ll learn. And remember, being kind and respectful is the most important thing, whether someone likes drawing, writing, or even just playing outside. It’s all good as long as it makes them happy.”

Jaehyun nodded, his expression brightening as he held the notebook a little closer to his chest. “Okay, Dad. I’ll write in it. But can it be any time?”

Jungkook chuckled softly. “You can write about anything and anytime, buddy. And when you’re ready, I’d love to hear about it.”

Jaehyun smiled, flipping the notebook open, already scribbling away on the first page. Jungkook watched him for a moment, feeling a sense of pride as he saw his son begin to understand that there were no limits to what he could do, no matter what anyone said.

𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦: MASTERLIST 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 - 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵

𝘃𝗲𝙧𝘆 𝗂𝗺𝗽𝗼𝙧t𝖺𝗇t 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 (𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵)

@onedoornet @loserlvrss @tkooooop @jvngw0nlvr @hees-love @astrae4 @fae-renjun @nicholasluvbot @txtbrainrot @kwiwin @kkumistars @lynnimini @dalliesque @cherrycolaberry @seokkiez

© hollyoongs, 2024. please do not copy, translate or steal my story

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#24: Family Fun Days (S9E03 & S4E15)

Grimes Family 2.0 has my heart eternally. 🥹 They are the best family to ever grace an apocalypse. And what’s so sweet is during their Family Fun Day in s9 and s4, it truly didn’t even feel like an apocalypse - that’s how much love and joy Rick and Michonne were admirably able to place in their and their kids’ lives. And while the fallen world turned Rick and Michonne into walker-slaying warriors, who they really are to their core are parents. (ours and their kids 😋) So the final Family Fun Day and the first unofficial Family Fun Day are a tie on this list for allowing Richonne to show why they're the greatest parents around...

Starting with the s9 Family Fun Day, one of my favorite parts is when Rick, Michonne, and Judith are walking hand in hand in ASZ. It’s so idyllic and so the type of rewarding happy life these three deserve.

I think back to s5 when Rick and Michonne were outside the gates of ASZ with Carl and baby Judith in the backseat of their car. I love that the leap of faith they took together in coming to this place has now turned into a stable home where they can fully enjoy being family.

I feel like words can’t fully even capture how much I love all this. Their smiles. Michonne cheering Rick on by saying, "come on, daddy." Judith skipping. Rick's countdown. And the way they lift her up and cheer Judith on. Somehow, I never noticed it until this rewatch, but after they lift Judith up, Rick and Michonne say “wow” at the exact same time. Always in sync those two. 🥰

And Rick and Michonne getting to just be parents is the best and so meaningful. After the devastating loss of children, the way Rick and Michonne have risen from those depths of despair and given Judith a beautiful cheerful life is so commendable. And, truly, it speaks to the strength of Rick and Michonne's impact on each other's lives that they can be this healed and happy now.

I’m choked up from just this initial moment and it only gets cuter with each of their activities. It’s clear that this is Judith’s favorite way to spend the day, but make no mistake, this is Rick and Michonne’s favorite way to spend the day too. And I love that Family Fun Days are something they seem to do often and look forward to. (also it's sweet that, throughout the series, we got several indicators that little Judith is a mama's girl 😊)

It was such a joy to see this side of Rick and Michonne, especially knowing we’d only have 2 more eps before Rick’s departure. I love that we got to see Rick just have so much fun as the best girl dad. He deserved to have so many more days like this with his baby girl. 🥲

Also, what I would give to have seen a family fun day that included Rick, Michonne, RJ, Judith, and Carl all together. 😭

The good thing is Rick and Michonne are going to do everything in their power to get home to Judith and RJ, and I have hope TWD's best parents will be able to have plenty more days like this to enjoy with their children whenever the four reunite.

(Side note: Since we're talking Grimes family in this post, can I just say I never understand the complaints about our sweet prince RJ being a regular kid doing regular kid stuff - like ??? To me, it's actually the biggest flex that Rick and Michonne's baby is living a normal life. A whole dang apocalypse hit the earth, and your kid is able to just read comics and ride bikes because, even in the most dangerous possible world, you managed to create some normal (as normal as it can be in that world) stability for your children - What a win. And rather than find him "boring" as a kid under age 10 just living life, I find it heartwarming that RJ Grimes got to be so normal. The mostly peaceful and regular way RJ is living is the very thing Michonne and Rick wanted and fought for. It's the very thing RJ's big brother Carl fought for too. How wonderful that they got what they wanted 🥰👌🏽)

And then the montage includes my absolute favorite visual with the three of them on a picnic blanket all relaxed, with a brief glimpse of Rick handing Michonne a pink flower as Judith seems to notice the way her dad loves her mom. Even in just a .5-second clip of Rick wanting to give Michonne that flower we see yet another example of how Rick so naturally shows love to his wife. 🥰

I love that in s9 especially, Rick was like if y’all don’t know nothing else about me, you’re going to know that I’m head over heels in love with Michonne. And he’s just so good at courting her even in their married era, and I adore how he’s always thinking of how to gift her.

Y’all, everything in this moment (& the deleted picnic scene where Rick expresses wanting more years like this with his wife and kids) gives me so much happiness and peace. Again, it’s so idyllic and tranquil and pretty. I wanted them to live in this moment forever.

The picnic shot is just beauty and I will always cherish it. It makes me think about Carl’s vision in s8, of their family playing hooky. I know Carl would be so proud to see the three of them essentially doing exactly that on this beautiful family fun day. Like this whole montage is truly what Carl wanted most for the three of them. 🥹

To this day, when I see Scott running over while the three are reading, I’m like damn it. ���� Richonne deserved to have a day to be all about their family and nothing else and Rick and Michonne look like they really do agree with me in the way they both communicate with a wordless look lol.

They don’t want this family time to end, but they know the world is ready to start screaming again. I do like how Rick sees Scott coming but keeps reading tho. Like ‘maybe if we keep reading he’ll just jog past us.’ 😂 

Seeing Rick kiss Judith before joining Michonne and Scott is so sweet and so sad because it’s his final interaction with his daughter before he’s taken away for years. 😭

Rick and Michonne again wordlessly communicate upon learning about that murdered savior, and you can tell they’re both disappointed. And I'm disappointed that Family Fun Day was cut short too, but I also was like, I should've known...

But I adore that this scene, which ends up being Rick and Michonne's last time side by side in the present, does not end on disappointment.

Rick is quiet and looking at Michonne, and then he looks away frustrated and stressed, especially because this new development could jeopardize the unity and safety he and Michonne so badly want to build for their people.

It’s so clear how Michonne feels for him, knowing how much they both wanted to have this day to just be. And then the shot focuses on their hands with Rick’s fist clenched to further illustrate his frustration. 

But Michonne always knows how to offer Rick the exact right uplifting encouragement and so I love that she then takes his hand. The choreo of it is so good with her slowly sliding her hand into his. It’s symbolic for Michonne to be the one who could most help Rick release his fist, thus release the frustration, and hold onto what matters most.

And, of course, Rick is receptive and holds her hand. He can always receive the positivity Michonne instills in him. And so I love that Rick tightly holds her hand and allows that to be the note they can end on together. 

Richonne handholds are always a thing of beauty so I love that their final moment like this ends on that emphasized visual. Even when things fall apart, they’re still in it together. They’re still held together by their love.

Y’all, how do even their hands tell a compelling story? I mean they always have. From exchanging bullets in Clear, to passing mints and holding hands in their canon ep, and this significant final present moment between them. It really does highlight the strength, love, and unity of Richonne's relationship. 

It’s also sweet how Rick and Michonne's official romance began with a handhold, and their final moment ends with one too. And while their journey is about to devastatingly take them on separate paths for years, I really feel like this handhold right here actually never breaks.

In many ways, during their years apart, Rick and Michonne still embarked through life as though their true love was still with them, still holding their hand and supporting them because their love is neverending - as noted in both Rick and Michonne's sentiments during the TWD series finale.

(Side note: There’s this interesting contrast I think about - because with losing Lori, part of what made it so painful on Rick is knowing they never got official closure after they grew distant and their marriage fell apart. But then with “losing” Michonne after he was taken, part of what likely makes it so painful for Rick is that their marriage was in such a great spot. Rick and Michonne were so beyond close, happy together, and hopeful for their future just before Rick was taken away. And that’s a unique pain to just be abruptly plucked from the woman you were so longing to spend the rest of your life with. Where the Lori loss featured an element of mourning a clear closed door, the Michonne “loss” is an element of mourning all the doors he hoped he'd open with her. And I’m really curious to see how Rick has been dealing with that type of pain while away in TOWL)

This whole sequence of events in 9.03 is the definition of precious. And the song in the background pairs so nicely with this heavenly time. I love Grimes Family 2.0, and this was like a beautiful love letter to them.

It was a lovely reward for Rick and Michonne after all they've been through in this series. And I just appreciate how much joy was depicted in every moment Rick got with his girls in season 9. (their opening moment in the s9 premiere also gets an honorable mention cuz I absolutely adore it)

So I called this Family Fun Days plural because before Rick and Michonne so adorably had their day as mommy and daddy with Judith, they had another version of a family fun day out in the woods with Carl. And this moment, along with the s9 montage, are my all-time favorite Grimes Family 2.0 scenes.

This one in season 4 is so meaningful because during their s9 family fun day in ASZ they were enjoying merriment in the safety of their community - but here the golden trio of Rick, Michonne, and Carl are traveling while unsure of where they’ll get their next meal or where they’ll lay their head for the night…and yet they smile. 🥹 The levity found in this moment is so important and heartwarming to see. 

I love that Michonne was so effortlessly able to be a best friend to Carl and helped him have fun even in an apocalypse. I adore the opening of the scene as Rick talks about resources running low and turns around to see Michonne and Carl adorably preoccupied with their train track competition.

Rick turning around to see Michonne and Carl reminded me of the s9 premiere when the first thing we see of Rick is him opening the doors to watch Michonne and Judith.

I know Michonne’s bond with Carl and Judith means the absolute world to Rick. And I can only imagine how moved Rick would (and will) be to see her bond with their adorable son RJ too. 😭

(Again, I'll never get over the fact that Michonne really carried Rick's child. How extremely beautiful. 🥹And soon Rick is going to finally know all about the son he made with the love of his life. Won't He Do It! 🥳)

I always appreciate that Rick walks over to Michonne and Carl, letting them have the moment a little longer, and the way Michonne playfully tries to win their competition. Carl sharing the Big Cat because "we always share" is also just so sweet.

And, of course, you know I love the way that man Rick is grinning while watching and appreciating this wholesome family moment. 🥰The way he keeps sneaking glances at Michonne as he smiles - I forever stand by the fact that Rick has fallen in love with Michonne by this point.💯

Even despite their circumstances, the three seemed so happy in this moment cuz they’re together the way it was meant to be. And I love that Michonne and Rick both valued giving Carl a good childhood against all odds.

In Carl’s devastating final episode "Honor" he tells Michonne "Don't carry this - not this part," and I always like to think that this moment on the tracks is one of the parts of their journey Carl hopes Michonne holds onto instead. Cuz it was such a beautiful happy moment that cemented the three as a family.

And, clearly, she and Rick did choose to carry the good parts with Carl and even pass it on to Judith as they and their daughter so presently enjoyed a day of fun and games seasons later, where for a few hours they didn't have to be community leaders or fierce fighters. Instead, Rick and Michonne just got to be what they so cherished being - mom and dad. Grimes family forever. 🤍

[justalonelyslytherin]

Legacies | Thirteen

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Kazansky!OC

Summary: The evening of their return the dagger squad meets at the hard deck for a celebration worthy of the mission they just finished. Ana has the chance to come clear but not everyone is in agreement with her actions. Can Jake finally get a moment alone with Ana and will Ana give him the chance to talk?

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of parental death, grieving a parent's death

Wordcount: 7.6k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. I ALSO DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THE USE OF AI IN ANY OF MY WORKS! Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: After the longer-than-anticipated break that this story took, finally the next chapter is here. The reason for the long break was me writing my thesis - as of today it is handed in and to celebrate this is getting posted! Also congratulations to everyone who voted in the poll if this would be over 10 pages. You were right, the chapter measures 15 pages in my writing document! And because I had so much fun, I decided to have some more polls going, giving you a chance to interact and influence the story a little bit. You can find the current poll here.

Taglist: open, message me or comment to be added, will be put as reblog

Everything was different now.

Memories. Places. Her. 

Ana looked at nothing with the same eyes anymore. The world around her was coated in a different light since her father had drawn his last breath.

Even stepping into the familiar bar felt like stepping into a different world. What had not long ago been a place where she felt at home, surrounded by happy memories was now a place that left an uneasy feeling in the pits of her stomach and conjured up painful recollections. 

Every memory of her father hurt. The happy ones more so than the ones of his last moments or even the ones from his first round of treatment against the illness when it was still new. Now the joy of those moments was temporarily tainted with pain and grief. One that would never go away. It was the permanent kind, a loss never to be undone. With time it would get easier. It wouldn’t hurt less but she would learn to cope, to move on with it, with her life. But right now the pain was still as strong as the loss was fresh.

The bar was much fuller than three-ish weeks ago when she’d just arrived back in San Diego. There were patrons littering the bar and filling the many spaces inside. It was a strange sensation as if she’d somehow crossed into a parallel universe, the moment then repeating like a nightmare.

Booming music streamed out of one corner where the jukebox stood, the melody distinct even over the constant chatter of patrons. It wasn’t too busy yet, as Ana quickly spied Penny leaning with her elbows on the counter, talking calmly with none other than her godfather.

Maverick sat there at the bar on the opposite side of the counter, a half-finished beer in front of him, his fingers toyed with the edge of the glass. This time his phone was nowhere to be seen. At least he had learned from the last time. Maybe tonight Penny wouldn’t have him thrown out either. Now that things between them seemed to have come to a conclusion.

Ana was truly happy for her godfather. He’d deserved the happiness and the stability of a relationship. Penny was exactly what Maverick needed. Maybe now he’d have a chance at settling down. 

Penny’s eyes, likely sensing her spying on the two of them, landed on Ana not a moment later, mouth pausing as her lips tucked into a smile. Ana wanted to return it but her lips failed to raise.

Now that they had noticed her though, she slowly walked up to the counter. Perhaps it was a good distraction first before she would venture further into the establishment to seek out her colleagues. In the pit of her stomach, an uneasiness had settled over the fact she had agreed to come. 

It was inevitable for her to have to come clean, even though all of them already seemed to know her secret. There was a distinct difference between her assuming and actually knowing. Ana just hoped they wouldn’t outright confront her about it and instead leave her time to bring it up and more importantly explain it in her own ways.

Maverick turned around as Ana stepped up beside him. His eyes trailed over her body, they gave her a once-over before settling on her face. His features softened, there was a gentleness in them that she would have scoffed at any other moment. Usually, Ana hated to be coddled and taken to be this vulnerable, frail thing. Her godfather had always been incredibly good at seeing her as the little girl she’d once been, forgetting she’d matured into a young, strong, and self-sufficient woman years prior.

Right now the softness in Maverick’s eyes soothed Ana’s nervous turmoil. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to his side. She slacked against him, leaning into his sturdy frame with a small sigh.

“Do you have a way home?” Maverick murmured against the side of her head into her hair and Ana nodded against his shoulder. She lingered in the hug, only tentatively pulling away to stand beside him. His arms dropped, one remaining loosely wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah, I got mom’s car.” 

He hummed, “If you want to have a drink I can drive you home later on.”

“No it’s fine, I… I don’t want to drink much, if all.” Drinking her sorrow away was the last thing she wanted to do. A short, swift alleviation it would be, albeit the pain would come crashing back only tenfold afterward.

“Alright,” Mav nodded, glancing at Penny who had watched the two of them quietly. Ana looked over at the bar owner too, nodding at her. 

“One drink?” Penny asked, not in any way trying to coax. She would never try to persuade her into drinking, Penny the least of all of them. Ana nodded, agreeing to one.

As Penny dove behind the bar to get the bottle of her favored brew, Maverick brought Ana’s attention back to him. He tucked at the back of her shirt, just like he had done when she was little to tease or rain her in.

“I’ll join you up later.”

“I bet they’ll like that. You know they will try to get you to buy a round or two.” Maverick grimaced at the thought, remembering the money he spent that first night in the bar. His grimace quickly turned into a sly grin and a short laugh and Ana knew that he had come up with something.

“There you go.” Penny reappeared with Ana’s bottle in tow, handing it over the bar to her. 

“Thank you, Penny.” But the bar owner just smiled at her and shooed her off, head cocking behind her toward the back of the bar.

Two pairs of eyes trailed Ana’s retreating form, concern for the young woman shimmering in them.

“Do you think she’ll be alright?” Penny asked, turning her eyes towards Maverick. He had watched her grow up. There was scarcely anyone here who knew her better. 

“I’m not sure,” he answered with a sigh. Doubt carried in his voice. If Ana felt even just a shred as lost as he still felt about the loss of Ice, he really couldn’t say. The hole that had been ripped open by the loss felt bottomless. Like a black hole it continuously tried to suck every bout of hope, of living out. What would be stronger in the end? 

“He was everything to her.” 

Ice had been everything to him as well. “I’m not sure if she’ll ever recover from this loss.”

Penny eyed him in heavy contemplation. Looking back at her, Mav recognized the thoughtful gaze and so he added, “There was always something special in their bond. Ice was close to every one of his children but I don’t think anyone can come close to the bond they had. It transcended everything.”

Swallowing Maverick glanced back at his beer, fingers restlessly fumbling with the glass from which he set on to take another gulp of. He wasn’t one to drown his sorrow in alcohol, not that he hadn’t come close to it when he lost Goose. It was Carole and then also Ice and Sarah that had kept him from developing another destructive habit. Even though Maverick mused – even now – that one more really couldn’t hurt more.

“I just hope she won’t be hurt any further,” Maverick spoke after a long breath of silence between them, once more looking up, this time glancing past the bar to the two crowded tables in the back.

Penny followed him, her eyes turning to rest on a certain blonde as she hummed. “There is hope.”

“You think so?” He was surprised by the determination carrying in Penny’s voice, a mix of a sigh and laughter leaving his lips. It was hard for him to believe, even if he had gotten close to each of the aviators in those three weeks. Perhaps not close enough. Penny rendered him silent with one disapproving look.

She ought to know them better than Maverick did, he realized. Working behind the bar Penny had likely watched some of them - maybe even all - go through Top Gun, spending many a night in this bar. 

Maverick wasn’t wrong with this assumption. Penny knew Jake like no one else from the dagger squad did. Not even Coyote. The flirty, suave blonde was entirely different in the sole presence of her, quieter and more reserved, more vulnerable. She’d seen through him the moment he’d set foot in front of her bar counter that first time, trying to have his way with her by throwing one of those flirty one-liners at her.

She knew that deep down Jake was different from Hangman, who had tried to flirt with her that day. Those big words and that even bigger grin were a front to hide beneath a decent and sweet man who had been hurt, hit one too many times, and now too cautious to show his true emotions.

“He’s just as broken as all of us are.” Pictures of him after his kill resurfaced in her mind. Pictures of the broken man, forever separated from his colleagues, unable to process what had happened, unable to process his own guilt and nearly breaking beneath it. 

Maverick hummed, quietly murmuring. Maybe they’d be able to heal together.

Ana’s heartbeat picked up as she walked around the bar in the middle of the room, eyes sweeping over the patrons in the back half of the establishment. Beside the jukebox in the far right corner and the pool tables straight forward, she couldn’t spy the others. Only when she looked to the left, where there were more tables and even a couple of booths could she spy a large group of civilian-dressed people that looked oh too familiar.

Not that it quelled her rapidly threshing heart. No, in actuality it made it even worse, a knot materializing in her throat. There was still time for Ana to turn around this instant and walk back out of the door. 

This hesitation. This fear. Was entirely unknown to Ana. She wasn’t like that, she barely recognized herself. Had she not faced worse challenges? She’d learned to fly a jet, shoot ammunition, and throw bombs off with it. She had learned how to fight in combat, she’d deployed to active zones of conflict and risked her life in her service over and over. Why then did the thought of stepping up to her colleagues, her friends, frighten her so much more?

“Ghost, you came!”

At her side, Omaha appeared suddenly, hands full with bottles of beer as he smiled friendly at her. It startled her, the abrupt appearance of him. But just as quickly as he had appeared she recovered.

“Hi,” Ana murmured, focusing on the many beers precariously balanced in his hands. They were quite full.

“You already found the table?” He asked her and she nodded, motioning to pluck some of the beverages out of his hands. “Let me help.” 

Omaha nodded and once they had evenly split the bottles she followed him to the table.

A chorus of happy shouts and other kinds of greetings awaited Ana. They were all clustered around two tables, shoved together and even then it seemed like quite the tight fit. The tables in the bar weren’t designed for such big groups.

Ana’s steps faltered when her eyes met a pair of electrifying green ones, turning around towards her. It was the first and only time she looked over at Hangman during her approach. Even if she had wanted to look at him again – which she didn’t – there would have been no way. 

Rooster stood up the moment he saw her, moving to take the bottles of beer from her hands, and handing them out. Her own bottle remained in her hands as the mustached man motioned for her to take his seat.

There was one more empty seat, presumably Omaha’s, and even if it wouldn’t have been his, Ana would not have taken it. Fritz might have still been sitting between her and Hangman then, but Ana wasn’t quite comfortable with the thought of being so close to the blonde.

Earlier – at the hangar – had been a different story. An Exception. She’d been too caught up in her relief seeing everyone but especially Rooster and Maverick back alive and well. Hangman too. Her traitorous heart had leaped at the sight of him, soaring in happiness, the looming sword of uncertainty over her head had been sheathed at once. 

And then reality had set back in.

Rooster grabbed another chair from an empty table, bringing it over and Ana took his previous one, in the middle between Phoenix and Halo. She was still closer to the blonde, who hadn’t looked away even once since his bright green eyes had snapped onto her. But now with Halo, Omaha, and Fritz, not to mention two tables, between them she felt a little more at ease.

“How long have you been here?”

Halo smiled at her, blindly grabbing over Omaha to grab his arm and draw it into her lap. She peered down at his wristwatch, eyes furrowing together in a way that had Ana wonder how much they already had to drink.

“Not long,” Halo determined soon after, letting go of her pilot’s arm.

“You haven’t missed anything if that’s what you are wondering,” Phoenix added, smiling at her. They surely hadn’t waited for her to arrive, had they? Curious, Ana wanted to know. The question however she was denied to ask, as Harvard cleared his throat pulling – almost – everyone’s attention toward him.

“We’re all here now. Time for a toast. To everyone coming back in one piece. To our team effort. To everyone gathered here today.”

“To a successful mission!” Fanboy added cheerfully, beer in hand that he raised high over his head. The others followed him, grabbing their beers if they hadn’t already and lifting them into the air. Ana fell behind a couple of seconds, her beer the last one to raise.

“Cheers!” 

High-pitched clinks reverted off the touching glass where the bottlenecks were tapping together, mixing into the voices around Ana. One after another the bottles sank back, meeting their holder's lips. The beer was cold and fizzy against her lips, bubbles prickled against her lips and the roof of her mouth as Ana took her sip. Left behind was a fine sheen of foam, which she licked away.

All around her, the buzz of cheering had transformed into multiple, smaller conversations. She got caught up in listening to Phoenix, Rooster, and Payback chat, content to simply sit back, not having to talk herself. Ana had had to talk too much in the last couple of days.

Countless phone calls, thanking people for the flowers and condolence cards that even now kept pouring into their home. She held correspondence with her superiors, the people who had been her father’s colleagues and subordinates. They were planning on further honoring her father and his life's work in the Navy. Not only that but other people, journalists and others, kept inquiring too. It was exhausting.

As much as she focused on the conversation to her left, there was one thing – or rather one person – to her right, that made it almost impossible to listen attentively. She could feel Jake’s eyes on her, burning two distinct holes into her side. Even trying her best to look in the opposite direction, out of the corner of her eyes she noticed the blonde. He did a good job feigning to listen to Fritz and Coyote, throwing in little quips here and there but mostly Jake sat there, his knee bouncing up and down, bottle clasped in his hand tightly as he stared at Ana across the table. No way the others would grant him even a minute alone with her, yet all Jake wanted was a chance to talk to her.

“Yo Rooster, what do you think? You suppose the brass will give you a medal or a write-up for defying direct orders?” Omaha’s voice drowned out the other conversations around the table.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be a while until we’ll know. Wouldn’t surprise me if it’ll take forever ‘till they reviewed the mission considering the higher brass is in quite the disarray.”

And suddenly the group turned quiet, their eyes zeroing in on Ana. Uneasiness blanketed her. It was obvious why the brass was a little too out of order right now. Which was exactly the prompt they’d needed to remember just who was sitting with them.

“Sorry, I–” 

Ana shook her head, “No, it’s alright.” Even if her voice didn’t sound as sure as she wanted it to appear. The moment of truth had arrived. Worry had consumed her, the uncertainty of her friend's and colleagues' stance on the big reveal plaguing her. Ana had never thought to believe any ill reaction of them prior to the funeral but then Jake had happened and the axis of her world had been tilted. Now she couldn’t be sure about anything pertaining to her name and identity anymore. She had become anxious as well as careful about it.

Words failed her, her mouth and lips suddenly drier than the sand of the Sahara desert. How did one break this news that technically they all already knew? How did one come clean without making it awkward? How could she state what everyone already knew without sounding insincere?

“You want to re-introduce yourself to us?” There was no malice in Phoenix's words. No scrutiny or judgment. Instead the dark-haired woman, the second closest friend Ana had in the squad after Rooster, looked at her with warmth and an encouraging openness. 

Her words were a careful ask, a gently prodding prompt meant to ease her into a confession if Ana wished so. She was grateful for it, wanting nothing more but to come clean to her friends and colleagues and have the topic off the table so she didn’t have to worry about the unspoken, the unknown perhaps.

Having not known how to explain herself to them, Phoenix offered an easy starting point. But even then Ana felt choked, not by any expectations but once more by the reality that had plunged her life into darkness. 

She tried to smile but it came out skittish and uneasy and so Ana quickly turned to nodding. They were all looking at her, more or minder directly, attentively but with a warmth that eased her into speaking.

“Yeah,” Ana mumbled, clearing her throat as she shifted in her seat. “I think it’s long overdue now. I never meant to lead any of you astray and I certainly didn’t hide this out of maliciousness. It just..,” she trailed off, leaving the end unfinished. 

There had been no good time to spring it upon them, no moment in which she could have uttered an ‘Oh by the way guys, I’m actually Admiral Kazansky’s daughter’. Anyways.

“Uhm, it’s Ana–” her voice wobbled, threatening to give out. No amount of preparation could make it any easier. Ana was forced to take a rattling, shallow breath to keep the tears at bay.

“Ana Kazansky.” 

The words barely left her lips without a stutter but once they’d finally been uttered a weight dropped off her shoulders. It felt freeing. 

Everyone was looking at her with compassion and sympathy, every eye she met showed nothing but understanding. As she looked over at Phoenix, the one to ask in the first place, the woman opened her arms in a silent invitation. Ana gladly took the offer for a hug, needing it more than anything else, second most perhaps something stronger than beer.

Bob’s arms slung around her from behind, sandwiching Ana between the flight duo. Melting into the embrace, some of the weight she’d been carrying for so long lifted off her shoulders. Ever since her father had died, she had gotten into conflict with her own decision, feeling that the choice she’d made so long ago didn’t fit the her of today anymore.

The first step was made and for the rest of them here were the days going forward. But tonight, nothing of that mattered anymore, at least not for the moment. Gradually Ana calmed down enough for her breath to become steady and her tears to dry.

Bradley's hands clasped her shoulders after the hug, nodding at her with a lopsided smile. It was his way of saying ‘Good job kiddo’.

“But Ana is your actual first name right?” Payback asked jokingly, beer in his hand as he grinned over at Ana. His attempt at lightening up the mood once more was successful as Ana chortled.

“Yeah, it is.” Thinking for a moment, the hint of a smile tugged at her lips, “Although it’s not my full name and you guys have been butchering it.” The latter part – of course – wasn’t meant seriously and was more to egg them on.

Fanboy left out a surprised “Eh?” but it was Yale who leaned forward on his elbows and asked smiling, “Care to share?”

“It’s Ana Theodora Kazansky.”

“Can you repeat that?” Fritz asked her, “The way you said that.”

“Ah-na, it’s uh–”

“–a Russian name,” Bradley butted in, sounding playfully annoyed as he nursed his beer.

“Well, you sound like you’ve heard that one too many times,” Harvard nudged him with his elbow.

“If you only knew,” Bradley scoffed just as teasingly. “Been getting corrected on that all my life by the entire family.” 

“And yet you still can’t seem to do it right.” To everyone’s surprise, Ana butted in, snarky and in the most outgoing, carefree way she had been since the funeral. The closest to the old Ana she’d been displaying ever since.

It didn’t last long, her mood quickly dampened by the scoff Coyote let out. Suddenly all eyes were on him. “Everything alright pal?” Payback asked.

“I think it’s just a little hypocritical don’t you think?” Coyote's eyes zeroed in on her, narrowing in a frown that had Ana’s stomach drop. “So much for comradery.”

“Yo dude, come on, that was obviously a joke,” Omaha frowned beside him while Ana just stared, the ground ripped from beneath her feet.

“No. You are just as hypocritical. She gets a free pass for her actions while she’s allowed to give others shit for theirs?” 

Oh. So that’s what that was about. She’d almost forgotten how she’d laid into Hangman. Of course, as his best friend Coyote was going to be on his side. Ana simply hadn’t thought it was that much of a problem, since it had been between Hangman and her and the moment had been heated.

All around the table voices erupted but the words were reduced to mere noise in the back of her mind. It shouldn’t surprise Ana, until the moment she sat down at the table she’d anticipated – feared – everyone would react like Coyote had. Still, him reacting like that had sent her spiraling nonetheless.

“Enough!” Silence settled over them. Ana glanced up in surprise at Hangman, who had broken the discussion. Briefly, their gazes met across the table before he glanced away, looking around at all of them but mostly at Coyote.

“I appreciate the sentiment ‘yote but shut up. No reason to attack her like that, she did nothin’ wrong. You and I will never know what it’s like but we may try to understand it.” Her heart fluttered, only a fraction from the Texan drawl bleeding into his voice and mostly the serious, defending way with which he said it. He was defending her?

“Understand what? That she gets a free pass?”

“What’s it like to be a family legacy, what’s it like when everyone knows who you are and there are impossible expectations on you from the moment you are born because of your name. You and I can't imagine what it’s like to have everyone either look down on you for who you are or put you on an impossible-to-achieve pedestal. What it’s like when everyone thinks you haven’t worked hard enough to earn something even if you did your damn hardest to earn it.

I couldn’t imagine what it’s like to be reduced to my last name and for people to not see me for who I am but for my parents' son.

Everyone around his table has had to work their hardest to get where we are now but there is no question that some of us had it harder than others,” Jake made the briefest glance toward Phoenix, Halo, and lastly Ana. “You’d do well to remember that, perhaps asking and listening in on their hardships would help you not look as stupid as you are right now. ”

“And lastly it’s none of our damn business if she decided to keep her private information private. Or do you go around sharing your lineage and heritage with everyone?

No one’s getting a free pass here.”

Ana was left speechless. Jake jumping to her rescue surprised her a lot, even more so at how reflective and open he was. While it was clear that the others had caught some part of what happened at the funeral, she was sure they weren’t in on it all. 

Most likely Rooster had told them the gist of it, otherwise, they wouldn’t have jumped between Jake and her at the Hangar. But there was no way Rooster would dish out the entire story when it wasn’t his to tell.

She had no idea what had gone down after the funeral or during the mission, but something had happened. At least something had changed in Jake. That being sad she wasn’t sure if she was ready to deal with it all, no less ready for it than she had been at the hangar earlier that day. Just because he came to her defense now didn’t mean Jake understood all of it or could see his faults. 

While Ana deep down longed for nothing more than resolution, a big part – and the loudest of it all by far – still wasn’t ready for confrontation. Her mood was soured and once more the walls seemed to come down all around her. Her breath hitched, the tension around the table suddenly too much for her. Grabbing her bottle, her chair screeched loudly against the floor.

“I’m going to get a refill,” she muttered, squeezing past Bradley, who had taken a seat narrowly behind her and Phoenix. 

Much later that same evening Ana found herself outside on the back patio, where the air was crisp, the sky dark and the world a little quieter. 

Lonelier.

Ever since Coyote’s more than snide comments, the atmosphere had been off, the mood tainted with those burdensome words. Ana didn’t want to dampen the fun of the others, doubts of coming in the first place rampaged wildly inside her. She’d tried to put on a brave face, to smile through it and drink a little more. To loosen up.

Ultimately however she felt like a pretender. Never wanting to be one ever again - even with her brave face - she’d opted to go back to Penny. But Penny had been busy, the later the night the more patrons to serve. 

With Maverick joining the lively group Ana briefly had been able to relax, to forget a bit for a while. Only for the time being until her gaze crossed Coyote’s at the table again. Then she was back to square one.

And so, at some point and entirely unnoticed, she’d gone off on her own, to find some quiet and solitude out here. Her forearms braced against the railing, both hands wrapped around her bottle of beer, she stared out at the waves, barely discernible in the dim light of the night.

Emotions bubbled under the surface, beneath the carefully maintained mask. Cracks had formed along its smooth form, crumbling the more time passed. Ana had truly thought she’d be able to stomach an evening away already, to throw herself back into the routine outings.

“I tried to,” she whispered into the quiet, voice lost in between the sways of the faraway waves and the summer breeze caressing her hair. “I’m trying so hard to be strong, Dad.” Her lips trembled, voice turning wobbly and weak.

“It’s just so damn hard,” she whimpered, closer to a sob, closer to breaking down. 

This horrid wave of pain became laced with anger and that familiar bout of resentment cooking up inside her. How weak was she that she couldn’t even manage one evening? One silly night? Angry tears burned Ana’s eyes, her stubborn refusal all that held them back from spilling. Her nails scratched against the bottle's smooth glass, catching the edges of the label, fingers tightening their hold.

Nearly swallowed in this silent fight with herself, Ana could have – would have – missed the backdoor swinging open if not for that one old hinge at the bottom creaking under heavy strain. 

Startled out of her pain and self-misery she hastily wiped over her face as discreetly as possible before she glanced back. It was those green eyes she noticed first – and perhaps only – in the dawn, causing her to straighten her back, carefully guarding herself. Ana swallowed, curiously just as hesitantly eyeing the blonde, waiting for him to move. It took Jake a long breath to close the door behind him, the hinge screeching a second time before he took a step forward but not yet coming toward her.

All throughout the evening, Ana had watched him out of the corner of her eye trying to get close. Only for one of the many daggers – she’d been told that’s how Hondo had dubbed the bunch, promptly turning into their unofficial name – to block him off. Be it changing his seat to one closer to her or being able to address her. Not even looks they had outright permitted, one of them conventionally and just coincidentally shifting so they couldn’t cross eyes. Not that he had tried still, stolen glances slipping past the vigilant guards, which Ana noticed. 

Jake had been progressively growing more frustrated until some time ago when he had left the group table to stalk off to who knows where to do who knows what.

Now he stood here, watching her as the light from inside the hard deck illuminated his back. She might have stood in the dark but the little light filtering out toward her was enough for him to notice the motion of her hands. 

Two hearts rapidly beat on the opposing sides of the deck. Jake hesitated. Just then he had been so determined to approach her, to finally get a moment alone with her. Now he wasn’t so sure if he still should. If he wouldn’t do more harm than what he was trying to repair. 

He couldn’t move, stuck in his spot, in this position. Torn between stepping forward and leaving again. Torn between his want, his need, to mend a situation – possibly unfixable – and going to preserve an already thin enough tolerance or to admit defeat. 

Failing to move in what could have been merely heartbeats but also minutes Ana turned away, facing the beach again, her back now turned to him. While this gesture might have been a sign for anyone else to leave, for Jake it was the permission to approach, albeit slowly and carefully.

Once more Ana found herself staring into the dark, the waves ominously glistening in the distance, no different from the waves of emotions crashing in her stomach, their sounds sweeping up the dunes toward them. But now their sound was mixed with Jake’s boots, with the slow yet sturdy steps as he drew closer. 

The railing creaked under his forearms as he leaned against the barrier not far away from her. Some might even call it beside her. There were but a few feet dividing them. Quiet was the chosen ambience, at least for a while in which they dwelled on their thoughts, each one stuck in their own complicated world of mind. 

There came a point when the silence became too much for Ana, too glaring, too grading on her nerves. Looking over at him at first was a quick glance, then another one until not long after she turned her head entirely to him, watching with careful eyes. In the dark, she thought to notice a reddish tinge to his tan skin, almost unintelligible.

“Are you drunk?” She asked, quietly, words carrying an accusing sting with them.

“No,” he answered, adding a few contemplative moments later, “Maybe a little.”

Her instinct to flee his proximity kicked in, no longer able to bear the pain still residing inside of her, to tolerate this silent existence between them. The jerky, jittery movement, not quite a stumble but also nowhere near graceful had Jake now eyeing her intently.

Against all her instincts his gaze held her there, gluing her to the spot like no one had ever been able to do before.

“Listen, I–” As fast as her instincts had been blanketed by his gaze, his words brought the innate need for her to leave right back. 

“–Don’t! I don’t want to hear…” And with the sensation came another wave of bite to defend, to guard herself. Ana had learned her lesson at the funeral and she wouldn’t be a fool once more.

But she wouldn’t let him out of her eyes either, at least not for the first careful steps backward, her hand skirting along the edge of the railing until finally, in one swift motion, she whirled around and bolted down the steps.

“No, Ana, that’s not– Damn it!”

It was all she could hear before the rush of blood replaced any other noise. Ana’s heart hammered in her chest, the sudden bout of adrenaline taking her by surprise. She stumbled in the sand, wondering what she was even doing.

To no surprise it didn’t take long for her to crumble once more, adrenaline replaced by all the pain she’d shoved to the back in favor of guarding herself against the blonde. With him no longer around everything swept back. Like a tsunami, it now came crashing over her. A sob broke out from between her lips, knees buckling as she squatted down in the sand, forehead resting against her knees.

“Shit,” she whined, hands shaking as she tried to keep her balance, just like her emotions the world wanted to tilt around her, spinning out of control.

Muffled steps on sand hit her ears but there came no second wave of flight, no instincts to tell her to flee. She was too tired, too in pain from it all. What difference would more of it even make?

“Coyote had no right to say that to you,” Jake blurted, huffing as he reached her. He’d feared she’d just up and bolt again, not sure if catching her a second time was something he could do. Exhaustion; his lack of sleep during the mission on the carrier and now the added stroke of the alcohol coursing through his veins were catching up on him, heavily. 

“And it’s my fault he said something in the first place. He’s protective of me like the others are of you, which doesn’t make it okay. I…I don’t know why he thought to say that, to do that in front of everyone–not that in private it would have been any more acceptable.” 

With a sigh, Jake dragged his hand over his face. Ana had the most unusual reaction to this. She chuckled, shaking her head in a moment of displaced amusement, a laugh bubbling deep in her chest, barely held back.

“What– What’s so funny ‘bout that?” Jake puffed out in confusion, slowly blinking through the foggy tendrils of alcohol wanting to cloud his mind. He wasn’t that inebriated was he?

“You defended me,” she muttered, rising to her feet. Her eyes, landing point blank on Jake, were the brightest damn thing in this solemn night. But they weren’t as bright as they had been that night in the Hard Deck three weeks ago. Dimmed unmistakably now. Jake hated himself, knowing he was a part of the reason her flame had lost its spark.

“You defended me.” 

He should have been insulted at the way she made it sound like it was the least possible thing that could happen, but he couldn’t. Not after what he had done to her. He deserved it. Deserved all of her mistrust.

“Even I can admit when I’m at fault.”

“You can? What changed?” There it was, the anger he had been expecting to surface back at the hangar already. She’d spared him then but now he was ready to take whatever she would hurl at him.

Shrugging he looked down at his feet, “I learned some new things. Things that gave me a new perspective.”

“For example?”

Sucking in his breath, Jake glanced upward. There she stood, in all her hostile, defensive glory. The waning crescent moon illuminated her from behind, the soft dim of it gave her an otherworldly glow. She looked like his best dream yet where he stood felt closer to his worst nightmare.

It took him off-guard that question of hers. Even though he had been the one to bring it up, he realized now how unprepared he truly was for her to ask. Gathering his witts usually came as easy as breathing. Not now. Trying to find his way to the start of his story was harder than Jake anticipated. Especially when the alcohol in his system chose now to ensnare his mind further.

Jake’s eyes lost their focus, skidding to the path of sand behind her leading to the tip of the beach where the waves came in from the vast open of the ocean. Their rhythmic movements had something almost calming. 

Almost.

Beside his body Jake’s fingers started to twitch in wanton, one movement kickstarting the cascade of nervous notions that were entirely his own. His foot began tapping the sand beneath his sole in an erratic, uncontrolled cluster of muffled thumps.

The motion sent a flashback through his mind as much as it did little vibrations through the loose ground. One involving the very woman before him, a pen, and a sharp pain as said pen had been rammed into his thigh not long ago.

“That I’m more of a fraud than you could ever be,” he shrugged once more, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicked at the sand beneath his feet. His words caught her off guard, abruptly halting her in her growing anger, stealing the roll she was building towards.

“What?” Her words were quiet, nearly lost over the waves, that suddenly sounded so much louder. And this time it was Jake who nearly laughed in surprise. Even when he had hurt her so badly and she had all the reason to hate his guts, she found it in herself to listen to him and perhaps even to muster some sympathy for him. He truly didn’t deserve it.

“I had to talk to someone, so I called my mother. She gave me an earful…” His hand flashed in her attention as he produced something from the pocket of his pants. Ana couldn’t tell what it was at first, his fingers nimbly spinning it between them. “She’d have flown here to whoop my ass no question if we didn’t ship out a couple of days later. She, uhh, put some things into perspective for me..”

Ana watched him now, attentive and with a poorly concealed hint of curiosity for which she would have liked to kick herself in the ass. She cursed him for having such an impact on her. Cursed herself more that even now she couldn’t resist this natural pull. Cursed her traitorous heart for beating faster, stronger. 

How could it not when Jake was opening himself up to her? It reminded her of him showing up in her room with hot chocolate and snacks. When she had glimpsed the real Jake beneath the mask he made everyone believe was him.

One more thing sparked her memory. That little pick of wood between his fingers, flashing briefly in the moonlit space between them. Cursed be the toothpick, the little annoying thing that sent a shiver down her spine. He’d had it that morning in the hangar too, annoying her to no end. 

Then she’d accounted it as a tool of superiority, for him to tease and show off. Was it true or had her own subjectivity turned it into it? Had it perhaps been nothing but his way of managing his nerves?

“From the first time I can remember I was always obsessed with planes. There was nothing more fascinating for me than those huge feasts of engineering. These beautiful man-made birds of steel, giving a mere human the ability to conquer and explore the skies. 

Growin’ up my father always put it before me that I was to inherit the family business one day, continue and grow it. Like he had done and his father and his father’s father before them.”

His hand reached upwards, one pointy end rubbing along the flush of his bottom lip. How ironic that little thing was now when he was about to mention him. “It was my grandfather who showed me that my dream could become my reality. That my future was my choice. My mother’s family always lived far away from us and looking back on it now I realize why she kept us away so much from them.

Nonetheless, my grandfather became my hero. My role model from the moment I met him and found out he’d not only been in the Navy his whole life but been no less than an aviator.

To a twelve-year-old obsessed with everything aviation, he became the coolest person on earth. Even more so when afterward I found out he was highly decorated and considered a hero.”

Quietening down Ana almost missed his next words, “Guess I never realized how much of a hero he was considered until now. Or how much influence he earned through that.” 

In a brief moment, Jake’s mask slipped, revealing the conflict warring inside of him. It was gone as quickly as it had, the iron mask back stronger. 

“You see I always thought what got me into the academy was my hard work alone. And I was damn proud of it since it's no easy feat. I always thought everything can be done if you just put in enough effort and don’t quit.”

“Can’t stand quitters ya now? Those who give up because it’s too hard or those who let the difficulty and fear stop them from even trying, who can’t seem to put in the effort it would take to reach the end. I was full of prejudice, thinking that all legacy children always got in easily and without working for it.”

“Like me.” Hesitantly he glanced over at her, a cautious and nearly hidden look before his eyes drifted once more toward the ground where his feet shuffled around the sand. Rather harshly he cleared his throat, shaking off the lump in it and rushing to babble on. 

“My mother used the ample opportunity to give me not only a lecture but also a lesson in what it was like to grow up for her. And I know I can’t compare that, likely yours and her experience won’t have many similarities but it..,” once more a heavy sigh cleaved his lips as Jake found himself lost for words. His hands tightened into fists, the toothpick between his fingers creaked under the strain, slowly bending until it snapped. The two broken pieces slipped beneath his fist, landing in the sand.

“She, uhm–,” he cleared his throat, “–she told me what it was like for her to grow up as the daughter of a navy hero. As a legacy child herself, even if she never wished to pursue the same career path.” A sad smile broke upon his lips, weakly twisting the corners of his mouth upwards. Ultimately the heaviness of his guilt brought them down again. 

“My view on it all has been altered.”

There was no time to ponder about his words or what had been revealed with them, as Jake left no pause. He shrugged once more, hands shoved back into his pants as he spoke on, “I can’t let it slide when something untrue or incorrect is said. As you might have noticed I’m more blunt. Pretty sure everyone else thinks I’m just a mouthy asshole, who says what he thinks without regarding other people’s feelings.”

A rush of guilt swept through the hightide of her wavering emotions, like a little boat out in rough sea. She’d thought just the same. The more Ana learned of him, the stronger she felt that there was so much more to Jake. So much more behind those acts he put up and the brash way he spoke with others. And here she was, getting to see another part of him unraveled, another piece put into the puzzle that was understanding him. 

“Don’t like to hide things. There is no point in sugarcoating things.” For a moment it looked like he wanted to say more, to add something. He looked over at her, their eyes met once more through the night and something glimmered in Jake’s eyes—a brief shine of something Ana couldn’t name or even describe. 

And then he left. Simply turned around, walking back the way he had come to follow her. A couple steps away he turned around once more, “I won’t bother you any longer as you clearly wanted to have your peace in the first place. Apologies for disrupting.” 

[daisynik7]

On Pins and Needles

Pairing: Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: You babysit Luna and Mana for the first time. Mitsuya catches up with Draken before attending a short, but tumultuous Toman meeting at Musashi Shrine.

Author's Note: Please enjoy chapter 2 of this series! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated. Would love to hear what you think about this so far! You can also read this on my ao3.

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“You cooked spaghetti? From scratch?” Mitsuya hovers over the hot pan on the stove, covered to keep warm. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

Draken punches him playfully in the arm, smirking. “Shut up, asshole. I didn’t invite you for dinner just to talk shit.”

He nudges his friend in the ribs. “I just never thought I’d see you all domesticated and shit. It’s creeping me out.”

“Do you want to eat or not?” he huffs, shoving a clean plate towards him.

Draken and Mitsuya have known each other since they were kids, friends bounded forever by their matching dragon tattoos. It wouldn’t seem like it, considering how attached to the hip he is with Mikey, but Draken remains the most loyal to Mitsuya, and vice versa. To see his friend like this, cooking regular dinners in a normal apartment with his long-term girlfriend is a dream he’s been wishing for since the night they shared that meal together at his unusual home. Draken has never lived an ordinary life; orphaned, raised by sex workers in a brothel, destined to be a delinquent from the start. Out of everyone, he’s the most deserving of simplicity, of stability. And it seems at last, he’s found it. 

Mitsuya twirls his fork around the heaping pile of pasta, sticking the huge bite into his mouth. Surprised, he blurts out, “Oh shit, it’s actually good.”

Draken kicks him in the shin from across the table, grunting. “Of course it’s fucking good, did you think I’d serve you shitty spaghetti?”

Laughing, Mitsuya swallows the rest of his food, sipping on his glass of water. “When did you learn to cook? It hasn’t been that long since I was here last, right?” He usually comes over to hang out with Draken and Emma at least once a month, whenever his mom isn’t working the night shift. Their meals always involve ordering take-out or delivery, and the kitchen remains untouched unless they’re reheating leftovers. So, the sudden switch to homemade meals is a pleasant surprise. 

“I started about three weeks ago,” Draken answers, chewing on a meatball. 

“Why?”

He doesn’t respond right away, properly finishing his bite, staring down at his plate. Then, he announces, “Emma’s pregnant.”

Mitsuya’s eyes widen, and a piece of food drops from his mouth. “Holy shit,” is all he manages to utter.

Draken finally looks up, grinning, eyes glowing with joy. “I know.”

They both get up from their seats to embrace, Mitsuya patting him hard on the back, repeating, “Holy shit!” a little more excited this time. 

“It’s fucking nuts, man. When she showed me the test, I lost it. Who knew that pee on a stick would make a grown man cry?” There are tears in his eyes now, shaking his head at his friend, still in disbelief. “The next day, I decided that we need to start saving money, which means no more eating out. So, I learned how to cook. And I guess I’m pretty good at it.”

For the third time, Mitsuya mutters, “Holy shit,” unable to stop grinning. 

“I can’t wait for Emma to get home from work so she can show you the picture. She specifically told me not to show you until she’s here, so you’re going to have to wait.” The two boys sit down to return to their meal, enjoying their pasta with bigger smiles on their faces. 

“She’s working? Doesn’t she get maternity leave or something?” 

“Idiot, they don’t give maternity leave till the third trimester. She’s only eleven weeks pregnant right now.”

Mitsuya nods silently, stuffing his mouth with another bite. It’s at this point that he is reminded how young he is, ignorant to adult matters such as this. Draken’s always seemed much older than his age, forced to grow up too fast. Both he and Emma opted out of high school. Draken started working as a mechanic for a local car shop as soon as he turned sixteen while Emma climbed her way through retail jobs until she landed a receptionist role at a dentist’s office down the street. And although they don’t make the most money, they are steady. Solid. Most important, they’re happy. “Can’t believe Ken Ryuguji is going to be a father,” Mitsuya says quietly, more to himself than the soon-to-be dad in front of him. 

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

He gazes at his friend. “It’s actually the least crazy thing I’ve heard. You’re going to be a great dad, Draken.”

He chuckles, blushing. “Come on, man. Don’t say such sappy shit.” He smiles, focusing on the plate of food in front of him, clearly elated. 

It's exciting news, of course, and Mitsuya is beyond thrilled about it. He can’t help being nervous for his friends, though, especially since Draken is still very much affiliated with Toman. Don’t get him wrong, he would die for Toman. He would kill for Toman. Is it a good idea to welcome a new baby into this type of world? Expose them to crime, violence, unwavering and sometimes dangerous loyalty? He wouldn’t change his life for anything; that doesn’t mean he’s blind to the flaws and obstacles involved in it. 

Halfway through their meal, Emma arrives, excited to see him. “Taka!” she greets happily, dropping her bag on the floor. He glances at her belly, searching for any signs of a baby in there; he considers re-taking sex ed based on how oblivious he is about this. She flicks his head, laughing. “I take it that Draken already told you the news. And no, I’m not showing yet.”

He scratches the nape of his neck, embarrassed. “Ha, I know. I was just…checking.”

The parents-to-be cackle, amused at how dense he is for someone who is already legally an adult. They poke fun at him even harder when Emma reveals the sonogram, and he can’t properly locate the fetus, exclaiming, “Why does it look like an alien?!”

Emma sits at the table with them, helping herself to a large plate of her boyfriend’s spaghetti, slurping on a big bite of noodles. Mitsuya asks, “So, how did Mikey react to the news?”

She wipes residual sauce off her lips with a napkin, answering, “Well, we haven’t told him yet.”

He glances at Emma, then at Draken, confused. “What? Why?”

Both of them focus on their plates, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not the right time yet.”

He doesn’t pester them further, noticing Emma’s now quiet disposition at the mention of her brother. It’s strange to think that they’re keeping something as important as this from Mikey, someone they practically worship, someone they love. What could be the reason? Reading the room, Mitsuya doesn’t mention anything involving Mikey the rest of dinner, instead catching them up on school, his sisters, and his most recent project, which is teaching his classmate Shimizu how to sew. They listen intently, happy to hear that he’s doing well, for the most part. Draken shows him a few of the recipes he’s tried so far, with Emma in the background raving about each one. As it approaches closer to nine, the two men leave on their motorbikes towards Musashi Shrine for the big Toman meeting. 

They ride beside each other, the night breeze surrounding them in an exhilarating rush of wind, cruising through the bustling streets of Shibuya. Mitsuya always feels nostalgia cruising next to his old friend, as if they’re still kids, acting tough and pretending to know what they’re getting themselves into. In reality, they had no clue what being in a gang entailed. At the time, it’s what gave them purpose; it gave them power. And being young and impressionable teenagers, that’s all they wanted: to be a part of something bigger and greater than themselves. 

“Hey, Mitsuya,” Draken yells over the sound of his engine. “About Mikey. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been to a captain’s meeting. So just a heads up: he’s been acting a little different recently.”

“What do you mean?” 

“He just doesn’t seem like himself. We haven’t seen him outside a Toman meeting in over a month. Emma’s tried to reach out to him, but he always says he’s too busy to hang out. We don’t have a clue what’s going on with him.” Their reaction from earlier makes sense in this context. Knowing Emma, she’d want to share the big news with her older brother in person, not through text or phone. 

Draken continues. “I’ve been so busy at the shop, so I haven’t had much free time myself. Still, I try to get through to Mikey, but he just doesn’t let me in. He’s even shutting out Takemitchy, and he loves that guy.”

Mitsuya is unsure how to respond. Being so preoccupied himself, he hasn’t been the best at keeping in touch with Mikey either. If his precious little sister can’t get through to him, who else can?

They arrive outside the shrine, parking their bikes at their usual spot, hidden from the public. Draken readjusts the braid on his head while Mitsuya fixes his helmet hair. “Do you think Mikey is okay, though?” It’s a silly question in retrospect, after hearing how withdrawn he’s being. To him, it’s all that matters; that his friend, who’s been through more shit than anyone else in a mere 18 years of living, is okay. 

With a serious expression on his face, Draken replies, “Is Mikey ever just okay?”

~~~

While you slice scallions at the countertop in the kitchen, Luna and Mana sit cross-legged around the dining table, concentrated on drawing in their notebooks. You glance over to them, asking, “What are you drawing now, girls?”

“Fruit!” Luna answers. “What’s your favorite fruit, Miss Shimizu? I can draw it.”

You stop cutting to face them, smiling. “I like apples. And you don’t have to call me Miss, Luna. You can just call me Hana.”

“Okay Hana! I’ll draw some apples.” Luna grabs the red, green, and yellow crayons from the box, sketching her next piece on a new page.

The other sister has her tongue out, brows knit tightly together, extremely focused on the piece of paper in front of her. “How about you, Mana?” you ask, kneeling beside her. “What are you drawing?” 

“An elephant,” she replies, expression relaxing a bit. 

“Wow! Look at its big, long trunk! And floppy ears! It’s really great,” you compliment, patting her on the head. 

She grins at you. “Thank you!”

Earlier, the three of you watched a few episodes of their favorite anime until you heard their stomachs rumbling, hungry for dinner. Mitsuya showed you the pantry with the instant ramen; you scoped the rest of the shelves, finding a can of Spam and some sesame seeds to elevate it. 

You return to the cutting board, finishing off the rest of the green onions you found in the fridge, checking on the eggs you’re boiling on the stove. You’re hoping to get them soft-boiled, which would be a perfect addition to the meal. The last ingredient you prepare is the Spam; you slice and chop half a can into bite sized pieces, sautéing it in a pan until it’s slightly grilled on all four sides, setting it aside on a plate covered in a paper towels to soak the remaining grease. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Luna and Mana sniffing the air, eyes lighting up. Mana exclaims, “Smells yummy!” You smile to yourself, excited to see their delight, hoping that they like it. 

By the time it’s almost seven, you instruct the girls to clear the table, which they do diligently. When they return, their eyes sparkle at the bowl of ramen in front of them. 

“Wow!” they exclaim together, inhaling the aroma steaming from the soup. 

Even you can admit that you did a good job with this; the presentation is delectable with the perfectly soft-boiled egg yolk running into the broth, pieces of meat scattered generously, all topped with a flourish of green onions and sesame seeds. If it doesn’t taste good, at least it looks good. 

Thankfully, it’s a hit with the girls, who slurp their noodles cheerfully, adding their own commentary between bites. 

“The Spam is so yummy!”

“The soup is so tasty!”

“This egg is perfect!”

“It’s so delicious!”

You try not to let the praise get to your head, remembering that your two critics are little girls and not professionals; still, you feel warm and fuzzy inside, seeing their bright faces enjoying the dish your prepared for them. Sipping on a spoonful of broth, you ask casually, “What kind of food does your mom cook?”

After slurping on a long noodle, Luna responds, “Mom doesn’t really cook. She only knows how to make rice. And that doesn’t count because it’s in a rice cooker.” 

“Taka does all the cooking for us!” Mana chimes in, squishing a piece of Spam between her fingers before popping it into her mouth.

Your ears perk up at the mention of their older brother. Seriously, what can’t he do? “So what are your favorite meals that he makes?”

Mana replies, “He makes really good fried rice!”

“Oh, and chicken stir fry!” Luna adds. “He makes ramen sometimes when he’s in a hurry, but he doesn’t put all this yummy stuff like you do.”

“You should teach him how to make it like this!” the youngest suggests.

“I’m sure he doesn’t need me to teach him anything.” After all, he’s the one teaching you. What could he possibly learn from you that he doesn’t already know himself? There’s nothing special about you; you’reordinary. 

The three of you finish the rest of your meal, bellies full and nourished, ready to continue the night playing with their dolls and action figures. Each toy has a detailed backstory that you listen to with intrigue. Their Hello Kitty doll is in love with the Bumblebee Transformer; their romance ends tragically because the robot lives a double life as a car and the cat hates cars. Their creepily realistic baby doll is the child of Goku, who appears to have been played with too roughly over the years. They zoom around the world, which in this case is their living room, fighting giant Pikachu, who Mana portrays perfectly. 

Five different make-believe scenarios later, it’s already past nine. What time do children usually sleep anyways on a Friday night? Before you can suggest bedtime, Luna and Mana both surround you, peering up at you with irresistible puppy dog eyes. “Hana, can we please get some ice cream from Lawson’s? It’s just down the street.”

“Please Miss Hana!”

“It’ll be really quick!”

You smirk, unable to deny them when they’ve been so well-behaved all night. “Alright, but you have to stay with me the whole time, okay? No running off.”

“We promise!”

“We can hold hands!”

And that’s what you do, walking along the pathway towards the 24-hour convenience store, both girls at either side of you, cheering when they see the illuminated blue sign sparkling in the distance. Inside, they pick out their favorite frozen treat while you do the same, adding a few snacks you think they’d like for the next time you babysit. On the way back to their house, you stay huddled together, enjoying your ice cream in the peaceful late-night breeze.

~~~

Mitsuya and Draken sit on the steps, waiting for more of the captains and vice-captains to arrive before heading up. Takemitchy, Chifuyu, and Hakkai arrive together, greeting Mitsuya gleefully after not having seen him in a while. Eventually, Smiley and Mucho show up, and all together, they head up the stairs, passing through the swarm of men standing at attention. 

Mikey is already front and center, long overcoat hanging proudly over his shoulders. He towers over everyone else despite his small stature; it’s a skill that only Toman’s leader holds. When the other captains arrive, they stand before him, except for Draken, who takes his place beside Mikey. Mitsuya notices them talking to each other quietly, hands covering their mouths to prevent the others from reading their lips. Mikey gives him a subtle glare, turning away to avoid his gaze. What was said to instigate a reaction like that?

Draken’s voice booms loudly. “Alright, listen up! Mikey’s got something to say!”

Mikey steps forward, staring blankly at the crowd in front of him. “There’s a new gang that has emerged from Shinjuku: The Leviathans. I’m sure some of you have already heard about them. They are small, but they’re quickly growing in numbers each passing day. They’re promising new members freedom to do as they please, which means these thugs are picking fights with anyone that crosses their path. I’ve encountered a few already.”

The crowd starts buzzing, some sharing their own stories, others surprised at this recent development. When it gets too loud, Draken yells out, “Shut up!”

Quiet again, Mikey continues. “They’re amateurs when it comes to fighting, but they’re all unhinged and hungry for blood, which makes them dangerous.”

“Too dangerous for Toman? Yeah right!” someone yells. “Let them fight us. We always win!”

Draken repeats, more aggressively this time, “Shut up! Let Mikey talk!”

With a serious expression on his face, Mikey says, “That being said, maybe we need people like that in Toman. Men who are willing to die for our cause. So, we’ve devised a plan to infiltrate the Leviathans and absorb them into Toman.”

The bustle amongst the men grows louder. Someone asks, “How are we going to do that?”

Draken starts, but Mikey cuts him off instantly. “I’ve assigned Kisaki and Hanma to lead the charge.”

The vice-leader gapes at him, clearly shocked by this. Mitsuya reacts similarly, turning to Takemitchy beside him and whispering, “What?! Kisaki and Hanma?” He hasn’t forgotten the trouble those two have caused for Toman and his friends. Lies, deceit, lack of empathy, cruelty, this only scratches the surface of what those two have exhibited since they joined a few years ago. 

Takemitchy glances at him, also stunned. “What’s Mikey thinking?”

“I’m also appointing them to third and fourth division captains.”

This causes an uproar, even from Draken. “Mikey! When did we decide on this?!”

Without looking his way, Mikey states, “I decided it right now.”

Takemitchy runs up to him, pleading, “Mikey, don’t do this! We can’t trust them! Remember what they did during the fight with Taiju?”

Mikey kneels, staring him down in the face, dead in the eyes, gripping the collar on his shirt. “Are you questioning my memory Takemitchy? Do you think I’m stupid enough to forgot?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, no Mikey! I’m not saying that at all! I’m just…shocked you would trust them with something to important!”

“Who else should I trust to tame wild beasts but the wild beasts themselves?” he mutters, pushing his friend off, standing to address the gang. “My decision is final. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave Toman. Just remember: if you’re not with us, you’re against us. Dismissed.”

With that, Mikey, turns on his heel, not bothering to elaborate his announcement to anyone else despite their protests. Draken follows him, talking to him with no response, the two disappearing in the darkness. The rest of the men burst into chatter, many of them questioning Mikey’s decision, a few agreeing with him blindly. 

Mitsuya stands beside Takemitchy, placing his hand on his shoulder to comfort him, sighing. “Don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a reason for this. We just have to trust Mikey.”

Takemitchy turns to face him, tears in his eyes. “Has Draken told you?”

“About what?”

“How Mikey’s been lately?”

He shrugs. “He told me he’s been a little quiet. So what?”

He grabs Mitsuya’s shoulders, shaking him. “That’s an understatement! Mikey hasn’t talked to any of us! We have no idea what he’s doing. It’s like he’s not even here!”

“Takemitchy, calm down – ”

“He’s gone, Mitsuya. And I don’t know where to find him.” There’s desperation in his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks, gripping tightly to his jacket. 

He didn’t realize how bad it’s gotten. No one told him that Mikey was behaving this way until recently. His regular life as a student sheltered him from this, so much that he neglected it, missing out on meetings and regular hangouts with his crew. He forgot what his major priorities are: aside from being Luna and Mana’s big brother, he’s a Tokyo Manji gang member for life. That’s what he signed up for five years ago. That’s what he committed his future to.

“Takemitchy, we’ll bring him back, okay? Mikey’s not gone. He’s just lost. We’ll bring him back,” he repeats, reassuring his buddy. “We’ll bring him back.”

~~~

After your little trip to the store for ice cream, you instruct the girls to brush their teeth and get ready for bed, which is met by disappointed groans. When you offer to watch one movie with them before they sleep, they’re frowns turn into smiles, hurrying to change into their pajamas so that the three of you can cuddle on the couch, surrounded by blankets, squished between the giant Pikachu and a few random plushies they collected from their bedroom. Halfway through the film, Luna’s eyes begin to drift closed, while Mana is already snoring to your other side. As gently as possible, you carry them one-by-one into their room, laying them carefully on their mattress. With both kids tucked comfortably beneath the covers, you shut the door quietly, heading to the couch to finish the rest of the movie on a lower volume. It’s past eleven when you hear keys jingling from outside and the front door creak open. 

You turn to see Mitsuya emerge from the darkness of the hallway. “Hey,” he greets in a hushed voice. “Sorry I’m a little late. I grabbed a bite with some of my friends before heading home.” He scans the room, smirking at all the stuffed animals chilling on the couch. “I’m assuming things went well, since it doesn’t look like a complete disaster in here.”

“Yeah. It was fun. Your sisters are really sweet. They even drew something to decorate the fridge.” You point out the artwork hung by magnets, one of the elephant Mana created, the other of the variety of apples by Luna. 

“That’s awesome,” he says, smiling. He glances at the stove, inspecting the pot on top of one of the burners. “What did you end up making for dinner?”

“Just some instant ramen. I added a few ingredients to make it fancy.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” He uncovers the lid, smelling the leftover soup. “If I had known you had extras, I would have just eaten here instead.”

“There’s not that much left over. There’s half a can of Spam and an extra soft-boiled egg in the fridge in case you want to add that in for tomorrow.” You lean against the counter, watching him. 

“A soft-boiled egg? You really did make it fancy. The girls must have loved it.”

“Yeah, I think they did. They even said I should teach you how to make it.”

He chuckles, eyes twinkling at you. “Maybe you should. I’m always down to learn.”

There’s an odd flutter in your belly, unfamiliar and foreign. Doing your best to ignore it, you change gears quickly. “Anyways, I should probably head home before it gets too late.”

“I’ll take you. I can’t let you walk alone when it’s almost midnight.”

You wave him off. “I’ll be fine, I only live ten minutes away – ”

He interjects, slipping into his shoes. “I’m taking you. It’s the least I could do for making you watch the brats tonight.”

“You’re already teaching me how to sew, that’s more than enough.”

“So let me just take you home, then, okay? It’s really not a big deal.”

He’s being very persistent, and you don’t want to appear rude by repeatedly rejecting his offer. So, you relent, gathering your bag, following him out the door towards the motorbike. He passes you the same helmet from earlier, grinning. “I promise I’ll go slower this time,” he says, giving you a wink. The weird sensation in the pit of your stomach returns, only growing stronger as you slide your hands around his waist, reciting your address to him before he fires the engine, zooming out of the neighborhood. 

Five minutes later, you arrive outside your home, windswept and flustered, most importantly, in one piece. Hopping off the bike, you unbuckle the helmet, passing it to him. 

“Keep it,” he says, pushing it back towards you. 

You stare at him, bewildered. He laughs, explaining, “I don’t usually take anyone else on the bike, so you can keep it for now. Just remember to bring it on Fridays.”

Not wanting to question him further, you murmur, “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah. Have a good weekend.”

He waves, rolling his bike in the opposite direction and cruising away. 

With the helmet cradled in your hands, you head inside your house, greeting your parents before you run into your room, face hot with this unfamiliar sensation kindling in your chest.

[m00nsbaby]

imagine some angsty moonboys with “half of my heart belongs to you but it’s still stitching up the wounds you left behind” AHDOFOSLWBF ok bye

SHIIIT, NO BUT I CAN IMAGINE IT FROM DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES DEPENDING ON WHICH ONE OF THE MOON BOYS??

Marc.

His constant habit of belittling himself became a problem.

For him, you can handle all of Marc's emotional baggage as you once promised.

The problem is that when you're sure someone is your soulmate, you want to see them happy.

And when Marc realizes that maybe you spend more time worrying about him than feeling happy with him, he questions for the tenth time that maybe it's best for you.

So he leaves, without warning.

He takes everything with him, your heart, your happiness, your life.

He seeks joy in his silly idea that his decision will bring you a better life.

You try to be patient, waiting for him to come back.

And he does, eventually, visiting you at night.

You try to let your guard down when his kisses try to convince you that even though he thinks you can't be together, he loves you.

You don't believe him.

You never believe him.

But you let him try because you prefer this to losing him completely.

Jake.

"You have to fight for me," you said a million times.

Jake never did, even though his heart belonged to you.

The problem was, you could never understand that nothing in his environment was meant to make him believe in his autonomy, which, according to him, was a fantasy.

His purpose was to take care of Marc and Steven, not make their life more complicated.

So when you became a problem in their relationship with Layla, he understood it was time to say goodbye.

"Tell me you don't love me," was the last thing you said, and when he couldn't respond, you had your answer.

He did, in his crazy, quiet, and steadfast way.

And the problem was, even though he couldn't choose you, you still thought of him.

You still loved him, never stopped.

You loved him so much that it hurt, your chest, your head. Breathing itself felt painful without Jake.

He didn't try, never did, and never would.

But for you, it was so hard to accept.

Steven.

Eventually, it all became too much for you.

Steven's life was in chaos, and you had long realized that it was best not to get involved in these things.

After the third broken heart, you began to consider that looking out for yourself wasn't wrong.

Making yourself a priority didn't make you a villain.

What you didn't know was that there was only one thing giving Steven a false sense of stability at that moment.

You.

"I beg you," and you did your best to release his hands. Maybe meeting him in a public place hadn't been one of your better ideas. "P-Please, give me a chance."

Perhaps the worst part was that he wasn't a bad prospect. If he had his life together, you might have considered staying.

You also considered it when his huge brown eyes filled with tears.

Or when he told you he was scared.

Deep down, he knew that depending on one person wasn't healthy, and putting that burden on your shoulders wasn't fair.

But he was afraid of losing everything when you left.

And although Steven wasn't one to give up, you weren't one to look back either.

And for the three of them???

The three blame each other for your departure.

Marc because he never gave you the place in his life that you deserved. A priority rather than an option.

Jake because he was never able to openly express how much he loved you.

And your sweet, sweet Steven for allowing the other two to do something like this to you.

The cycle was self-destructive, there was no moment of the day when you weren't on their minds.

Oh, not even at night. The nighttime waking hours became a torture when they had to stay awake in silence, with nothing but thoughts and the constant repetition of the mistakes they had made when they were with you.

Was it really necessary for Marc to get out of bed early that day, or could he have afforded to stay in your arms a little longer?

Would your eyes ever shine as brightly as when Jake leaned down to you and called you "mi cielo"?

The idea of someone else doing it made Jake's stomach churn.

And consequently, the other two as well.

Would Steven's body ever feel the seconds of peace that your finger brought when you ran them through his curls?

Or worse yet, was it worth continuing to think about the "what ifs" when even though their heart begged for your return, none of the three would be able to make you come back?

Tag list :)

@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133

[beardeddetectivepaper]

€9,602/€100,000‼️‼️

Hello, compassionate souls, I am Mustafa Al-Shurafa from Gaza, a devoted civil engineer, and a loving husband to Hanan Al-Shurafa. Our little family, including our precious sons Yusuf (8 years old) and Bashir (2 years old), is facing a dire situation, and we urgently need your support to leave Gaza and literally save ourselves.

Yusuf, our brave eight-year-old, battles not one but two heart conditions: a narrowed pulmonary valve and a deviation in the aortic artery. His journey to treatment was halted by the tragic events of October 7th, leaving him vulnerable and frail. Due to the lack of suitable medical care and nourishment in Gaza, Yusuf's health deteriorates day by day, breaking our hearts as parents.

Bashir, our two-year-old bundle of joy, deserves the innocence of childhood, yet he's grown up amidst the chaos and uncertainty of conflict. His laughter mingles with the echoes of explosions in Gaza, and his tiny frame bears the burden of displacement and deprivation. As parents, it pains us deeply to see our children robbed of the safety and stability they deserve.

Our family once knew peace and stability until we were forcibly displaced from our home in Gaza City. With nowhere to turn, we sought refuge with relatives, enduring cramped conditions and scarce resources. Each move brought new challenges, from bitter cold to constant illness, leaving us desperate for a glimmer of hope. Today, I stand before you, humbled and desperate, pleading for your kindness and generosity. Our journey to safety and healing requires significant financial support, including travel expenses to Egypt, where Yusuf can receive the life-saving treatment he urgently needs. With your help, we can reclaim our shattered lives and give our children the chance they deserve.

Every donation, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to our goal. Together, we can save Yusuf's precious heart and preserve Bashir's innocence amidst the chaos. With your support, we can stay together as a family and find safety and medical assistance in Egypt. Your support is our lifeline, and we are eternally grateful for your compassion and generosity. Please, help us rewrite our family's story and restore hope in the midst of darkness. Join us in this journey of love, healing, and resilience. With heartfelt gratitude, Mustafa Al-Shurafa

Legal Notice: This fundraising campaign adheres to international fundraising legal standards and is conducted outside Finland. Funds will be allocated transparently and responsibly, with regular updates provided to donors. For inquiries or contact, please refer to the details provided below. Allocation of Funds: Primary Beneficiary: The funds raised by Mustafa Shurafa on behalf of Alaaeddin Loulou are primarily designated to support Mustafa Shurafa's family due to banking limitations in the Gaza strip, ensuring direct assistance where it's needed most. Transparent Transfer: Alaaeddin Loulou, based in Finland, will oversee the transfer of collected donations to Mustafa Shurafa's father, Bashir Shurafa, residing in Egypt, guaranteeing a secure and transparent process. No Personal Gain: Rest assured, Alaaeddin Loulou will not derive any personal benefit from the donations. Every euro contributed will go towards alleviating the plight of Mustafa Shurafa's family. Relocation Assistance: €20,000 will be earmarked to facilitate Mustafa Shurafa and his family's relocation from Gaza strip to Egypt, providing them with a safe haven away from conflict and uncertainty. Medical Expenses: €65,000 will be allocated by Mustafa Shurafa to cover the extensive medical expenses for his son, encompassing doctor consultations, specialized treatments, and vital medications crucial for Yusuf's recovery. Residence Procedures: Approximately €15,000 will be dedicated to covering the residence procedures of Mustafa Shurafa's family in Egypt, including legal applications, housing arrangements, and other relevant expenses essential for their settlement.

Transparent Accountability: To maintain credibility and transparency, all bills and expenses will be meticulously documented and made available to the public audience, ensuring accountability and trust. Regular Updates: Donors will receive regular updates on the utilization of funds and the progress of Mustafa Shurafa's family, keeping them informed and engaged in the journey they've generously supported. Your contribution is not just a donation; it's a lifeline for a family in desperate need. Thank you for your compassion and generosity. Together, we can make a difference and bring hope to Mustafa Shurafa's family in their time of greatest need. For further inquiries or contact: - Mobile: [+970599745415 or +970569745415]

[pumpkin-boylord]

Im finishing OFMD s1 and I can't stop thinking about Ed's character so I need to write it down.

I love how complicated his persona is, it's that kind of crazy that you don't know what he could do since he also doesn't know! But his energy, his anger, his erratic character is all because of trauma and I know this is obvius but I love to analize it and how deep it actually is.

When we think about his trauma we may just think that since he lived a horrible life he is now an angry horrible man but it's MUCH MORE than just that!

We know really little and a lot at the same time about his past and his traumas; we know he comes from a really poor family with a lovely but weak mother and an alcoholic abusive father, traumas that still haunts him and are so deep that they cause flashback as we see in the serie.

So he had a childhood without an education, full of neglet and abuse, costantly being told horrible things, being mentally and phisically abused by his own father and not being protected by his mother who was a victim as well; all of this was so bad that it drive him to the point of killing his own father in a moment where he wasn't even lucid, the abuse was so radicated in him that he belived he was the monster in this situation and also it led to other beliefs that he still carries with him such as:

-if things are bad they will always be bad (such as his abuse, as his flaws or as their economic status, her mother telling him about the fact that those rich fabrics they could only touch as they will always be poor)

-he is and will always be the monster, the weak, the one in the wrong

-he deserve to suffer, to be abused and to be punished (by the constant neglet and hate he recived by his father for years).

So this lead to everything that Blackbeard is now and what he is surrounded by, for example Izzy.

We see that Izzy is scared of Edward as he knows of his erratic manners but Izzy is also the one in controll.

We see him command Blackbeard and yell at him whenever he does something that he doesn't like or he define it's not "what/how Blackbeard shouldo do/be".

Izzy is in his way abusive and controlling Edward who, in those moments (at least if Stede isn't involved), will accept this treatment as he deserves it and will stay by Izzy's side creating a really contorted Captain-Right Hand relationship that is often inverted or broken.

This is because Ed is so used of his past abuse that he thinks that he deserves it and he goes around searching (like a lot of victims do) for someone that will treat him like his father did.

Even if he is Blackbeard, the Captain, the Leader, he still accept the abuse.

But why does Blackbeard act like a monster if he hates it? (Other than Izzy)

Because he is starved of attention and love and he NEVER had controll, the only time he did was when he killed his father.

He quickly learned that those actions were praised in the Pirate's community and we can see when CJ is around that he will change and acts out to be accepted and appreciated even though he isn't really like that but he belives that's the only way he'll ever recive "love".

Or it was, untill he met Stede Bonnet; the smallest ammount of affection, sweetness, innocence was enough for Blackbeard to crumble to the ground and Edward to comes out of his "Kraken"s shell.

This is because Blackbeard entire personality is based on traumas and starving of affection, as he taste it he start to opens up, to expirience new things (he was even tired and bored of his life because it wasn't his own, to the point where he said "that's a good idea, death, I never tried it, we should try it" and he searched for a way out) .

Unfortunately, as most of victims of abuse, Edward became easely attached and dependent from Stede who was now his new source of EVERYTHING (joy, calm, peace, stability, personality, safe space etc etc.)

To end this reflection, so what does Edward Teach really needs?

Other than a psychiatrist? Love, just love, he would need to quit his piracy life, quit his persona, go low and have lots and lost of affection.

He isn't a monster, a villain, a bad person or anything like that, he is broken and hurt, he most likely suffer from PTSD and a personality disorder and just need some peace and affection and Stede was that for him.

(please I need them to be happy in season two-)

[innocentcurse]

Dorothy Prior insight 01/??

Response to prompt 01

Content warnings include death and verbal abuse

Dorothy awoke to the soft, golden light of dawn spilling through the curtains, illuminating the serene room she shared with Elias. Her heart was filled with contentment; Elias had become her anchor, transforming her darkest days into moments of joy and stability, all in a way that Dorothy had never believed possible. A sleepy smile stretched across her face as she realised that he was still in the bed next to her; it was a rare treat for her to wake up while Elias was still asleep.

Wanting to make the most of the comfort of his presence, wanting to bask in his love and his warmth, Dorothy reached out to caress his skin. The smile was stolen from her face the second that her fingertips made contact with Elias' back; instead of finding his soft skin to be warm and inviting, a chilling cold met her touch. Her hand retreated to her own body while her eyes, wide and afraid, stayed fixated on her partner.

His body wasn't rising and falling with life. The sound of his soft breathing couldn't be heard. Dorothy reached out once again, a shaking hand wrapping around his shoulder, and she turned his body towards her. Lifelessly, Elias fell onto his back; his once vibrant face was now pallid and barren, his eyes wide open and unseeing.

Dorothy shrieked, a guttural sound soaked with sheer terror. As her heart sank and broke, the world around her seemed to collapse in on itself. From the shadows of their bedroom, her five sisters materialised, their faces etched with disdain and accusation. Her mother and stepfather appeared beside them, their expression dark and disapproving, their figures looming over Dorothy as if she was still a little girl.

"You break everything you touch," her mother's voice echoed, sharp and unforgiving, filled with venom. "Not only your own life, but everyone else's, too. You've destroyed my life, you've destroyed our entire family, and now you've lost the closest thing to love that you will ever know." All Dorothy could do was sit and receive the berating, paralysed in shock and fear.

"Why do you have to be so different, Dorothy? All you ever do is cause people harm. You'll never have what you want - you don't deserve it, Dorothy. You ruin everything!" Her sisters' voices joined in a cacophony of condemnation. "You're a curse," they intoned.

"You should have left us for good, just like your pathetic human father," her stepfather chimed in. "You'll never fit in with us, and I don't trust you with my daughters." Dorothy's weak frame convulsed with sobs that she hadn't even realised were leaving her as she looked to her sisters - her best friends - and believed everything that her family was telling her.

The room grew colder, the shadows morphing from one family to the next, and suddenly Elias' brother, mother, and father were at the foot of their bed, his parents delicately holding their lifeless son. The Schwartz family had once been her sanctuary, the one place where she felt unconditional love and safety. Now, their eyes were filled with betrayal and anger.

"How could you?" Elias' father demanded, his voice trembling with hurt, a cutting tone that she had never heard from him before. "We trusted you, Dot. We believed that you were good," the father's pain shot agony through Dorothy's entire being; she screamed with her sobs, wailing uncontrollably.

"My baby boy," Elias' mother cried, stroking his hair as she held him. "We trusted him with you, Dorothy, why did you do this to him?" Being witness to a mother's pain brought on a feeling of distress that Dorothy could hardly comprehend.

"We thought you were better than this," Elias' older brother had his say now, looming so tall over her that she felt undoubtedly threatened. "But you'll never be one of us, Dorothy. You're just- you're just a witch! A witch!" He spat viciously.

"Witch! Witch! Witch!" Elias' family chanted. The weight of their accusations pressed down on her, and as they began to advance, their intentions clear and menacing, the room seemed to close in on her. Her heart pounded, her breath coming in shallow and frantic gasps, and without any clue as to what she could do to protect herself, she curled up in a ball, her eyes squeezed painfully shut, and her hands cupped over her ears.

As quickly as the torment had begun, Dorothy felt it fade away. The threatening chill that suffocated her turned to one of emptiness, and the soft fabric of her bedsheets underneath her suddenly felt flawlessly smooth and solid. She opened her tear filled eyes to find herself sitting on a tiled floor. At the tip of her toes in front of her, she saw another's. Breath caught in her throat, Dorothy's neck arched back, and at the sight of her ex-girlfriend's zombie like face, she scrambled backwards and as far away as possible.

"I mean, it was only a matter of time, right?" The deceased woman proposed overly casually. "It's not like you deserve love after what you did to me. You're fucking evil, Dorothy. Sure, I wasn't perfect, but you're vile. You're a cruel, malicious, sick little girl, Dorothy. He's better off like me, so you can stop hurting him. First you hide your magic from him, but what's next? Are you gonna start using it on him next? Isn't that the way you think this goes? One fight and boom-" the words were cut off by a cackle of a laugh that echoed throughout the space hauntingly.

The laughter flew around her like a flock of birds circling a fresh carcass. Dorothy looked up, expecting to see more than empty space filled by the sound, and when she looked back down the only other person in the vast, seemingly unending space was Elias.

Dorothy cried hopelessly, her face dripping with tears, apology, and regret. She was brimming with a multitude of things she wished to express, but upon parting dry, cracked lips, she found not single word. It was as if her voice had been stolen, and the silence broken only by cries was excruciating to sit in.

"Dot..." Dorothy had never heard Elias sound so meek, or so devastated. "Is this really you?"

An uncontrollable scream escaped her, and with it came a blinding light that engulfed her. Dorothy jolted awake, her body trembling as she sat up in her bed once again, her heart racing wildly.

Her room was bathed in the gloomy beginning of a storm, and Elias lay beside her, warm and alive, his steady breathing a balm to her frayed nerves. 'It was just a nightmare,' she thought to herself, and while she knew that to be the truth, tears still welled in her eyes like the trauma endured hadn't only been in her slumber.

She reached out and touched Elias’s warm arm, grounding herself in the reality of his presence. The dream had been a vivid, haunting reflection of her deepest insecurities and fears, but now, in the light of the morning, she clung to the truth of her safety and her love for Elias. The nightmare had ended, and as she pulled him close, she let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the solace of the waking world.

[halliescomut]

Uncle Jim thoughts Part 1

So we're halfway through and God I have so many feelings about Jim.

Like, I did make the joke about how he's basically Luke Danes translated to Thai, and like....I can list the similarities...you know what, I think I will.

Both run a eating establishment in their town

Both haven't dated due to a big heartbreak (For Luke it was Rachel, for Jim it's his ex, who either has no name, or I can't find it.)

Both consistently do things to help their community without expectation of thanks, and honestly would prefer not to be recognized for it. (Yes, Jim is more personable, while Luke is quite cranky, but they're both still doing it.)

Both have a sassy 'troublesome' nephew who's not really bad, just in a rebellious phase and feeling very hemmed in.

Both struggle to communicate with said nephew. (Hopefully we'll see a similar resolution to Jim and Li Ming that we see with Luke and Jess.)

Both are dealing with a love interest that is a bit free-spirited, a bit sarcastic, a bit whimsical.

Both said love interests have an ex who still feels entitled to them in a way that's quite concerning tbh. (Yes, Lorelai and Christopher's connection can never really be cut, since Rory exists, but Chris still felt entitled to Lorelai even though he'd not done much to deserve it and broke her heart more than once.)

Both are consistently providing assistance to their loved ones at their own expense. It's more obvious with Jim, as he's actively dealing with economic instability, which Luke never had to do (both because of the actual timing of that show and because money politics in Gilmore Girls makes absolutely no sense) but they both are willing to forego things in order to provide for others, and they do so without complaint.

Both are set in this idea of pursuing stability over pursuing more intangible things like 'happiness'. They see a specific value in contentment vs. ecstatic joy, and they believe that to be more easily attainable and far less risky.

Not really a similarity between Jim and Luke, but I can see a parallel with Leng and Praew in Liz and TJ. They're family that's a point of stress, but also a point of joy. And like, idk how quickly time will pass for the second half of the show, but I would be so ecstatic to see Jim with baby LP. I really liked seeing Luke's interactions with Doula, and as an aunt myself, there's something so wonderful about having this new little piece of your family. This person who has these parts of all the people you love in them, your sibling, parents, grandparents, and on. Like I don't believe people need to have children to feel fulfilled, but I think this feeling of seeing some of your favorite people inside this new unique little human is just amazing and so special.

Okay, end of that list for now. What I specifically wanted to kind of talk about was the relationship of Li Ming and Jim, because it's just so realistic. Jim and Li Ming are both kind of feeling the same way in the show, but they're reacting so differently and it's because of their ages. They both feel stressed and hemmed in by the life they're currently leading. I do believe that Jim very much enjoys running the Chicken and Rice shop and being a part of his community. He definitely has a genuine affection for everyone there, but because when it all started it was with the promise of not doing it alone, it's become very bittersweet to him. Li Ming, as a young adult, quite reasonably wants to get a chance to experience more of life, and part of that is travelling, but he's limited by social and financial circumstance.

Jim, as someone who's in his late 30's almost 40, is reconciling with his life and is most concerned with stability, especially after a few years of economic instability. And he's trying (poorly) to express that to Li Ming by encouraging him to go to university so that he has the best chance at finding a stable job. Because Jim doesn't necessarily believe that one, fairytale endings even exist any more, and two, that even if they did it's far too late for him. And he wants to be sure that when he's no longer there as a support that Li Ming is in a place to support himself.

Li Ming, who's still a teenager is still in that place where he feels comfortable taking risks. He doesn't believe that it will be easy or simple to do the work and travel program, but he knows that he's capable of it, and Jim's insistence that he not go feels more like Jim saying he's incapable. But he's also existed at least for a few years in a place where he knows he has Jim's support. He's operating in a place where he believes that if he tries and fails, he still has Jim to bail him out. And in that very particular myopia of teenage-dom he doesn't fully see that part of Jim's fear is that Jim won't have the means to bail him out. Li Ming is not stupid, he's fully aware of their social status, their financial struggles to an extent, but Jim is also consciously hiding the worst of it from him.

It's a consistent conversation that you hear all the time 'money can't buy happiness' and it can't but what financially insecure people would tell you is that money can buy stability. It can provide opportunities for growth and self expression. It can provide the ability to seek medical care. The joy that we find in life is most often through our interactions with loved ones. So no, money can't buy happiness, but if you're not working a 60 hour week, then you would have the time, space, and opportunity to spend time with your loved ones, to create that happiness and peace. Not having to consistently worry about how you're going to pay this or that, means enormous weight taken off of your shoulders.

Now I don't necessarily think Jim's in the wrong in his feelings, because the reality is everyone's feelings in this situation are very valid and very understandable. But as Wen point's out to him he needs to try and put himself in Li Ming's mindset. He needs to think about how he felt at 17. In that same vein I do think that Li Ming could benefit from spreading some of that compassion he has for Heart to Jim just a little bit. And it's very true that they're both so stubborn in this situation, not because they truly believe they're 100% right I think, but because there's a fear that they're wrong. Jim is, like every good parent, incredibly worried that he might be in the wrong here, but is stuck thinking about the long-term. He's preoccupied with making sure that in the long run Li Ming will be able to be self-sufficient. And Li Ming is worried that even though he so desperately wants the opportunity and chance to travel, what if he fails. And they're both kind of doing that thing where they are taking those fears out on each other, because they know that the affection there is deep.

In like, another little sidenote, because of all of the random things I pick up about emotion and emotional reactions. There's a statement I came across almost a year ago that so completely altered my way of think both about my own emotions, but also the emotional behavior of others...and it's that anger is a secondary emotion. Anger is a reaction to another emotion, whether it's fear, pain, shame, frustration, whatever. Their arguments, that anger, is based on Jim's fear and Li Ming's frustration.

I don't necessarily have a way to wrap this up...likely because there's no resolution to the story. But I just really love the honesty and authenticity of the story that's being shown. There are a lot of stories about family drama, but this one in particular very clearly expresses the deep affection they have for each other, even while they're fighting. Situations like this are never really black and white, especially when our actions stem from love. It doesn't mean that their choices are correct, that's why there's the saying about the road to hell being paved with good intentions, but it opens a door to understanding the characters and for the audience to connect. Because if you've been a provider for someone, like Jim is for Li Ming, you can understand his perspective, and we've all been kids like Li Ming, so there's understanding there as well. And I just think it's sets all of the audience up to self-reflect a little bit on how we've handled similar situations in the past, and how we could potentially handle situations in the future.

As a slight additional sidenote, yes we clearly see the acting from Earth and Fourth is top tier, and I don't know exactly how much of the screenwriting was done by P'Aof, but he is credited for that. But at the very least his directing here is so beautiful. Like, I'm not surprised, his credits are full of amazing series, but like every creative, the more you work the more you grow and improve, and I think this is his best work. It's really just great. He's definitely become a master in his craft, and while I've seen a good amount of his work, this really makes me want to seek out other projects of his that I haven't seen yet.

Well....that's idk, 1400+ words, so I guess I'll wrap it up here.

[fantastic-wizards]

( cont from xoxo ) || @fallencrowns

And he could understand that in his own way. There were times when the view at Hogwarts did not affect him as deeply as it used to although these days, he one could say he felt even more of an attachment to the place. He supposed it was primarily out of fear of losing his place entirely. If the Ministry wanted, they could have him removed completely from his post. That was probably the next step should he keep making excuses about fighting Gellert. However, he told himself that if they removed him from Hogwarts entirely then it would be more than enough motivation for him to become the new Minister. He'd hate to give up what little privacy he had left, but it would be worth it to make certain people's lives a living hell. He'd start with Travers who was acting particularly peculiar as of late and go down the list of those who kept making this process of dealing with Gellert difficult.

"I can relate. Sometimes Hogwarts doesn't hit the way that it used to, but… after the incident with the Ministry, I think I have found myself feeling a bit clingy and sentimental over the place. There are still a few spots about the castle that fill me with joy. The threat of being removed from it entirely has reignited an old love for the school. The view doesn't hold a candle to this one, but I am certain I would miss it if I left for good."

Or rather was forced to leave for good. Should Albus ever find himself in a place where something other than Hogwarts consumed him completely, maybe it wouldn't feel so bad --- the idea of leaving it behind. But with his family life in shams and his personal life still filled with many questions, he couldn't imagine leaving the only permanent, sure thing in his life right now. That stability was much needed at this juncture in his life.

They both stood in silence for a spell, each of them consumed by their own thoughts. Albus was not one for prying too much so while curious, he knew Corvinus had his own reasons for retreating here --- and not just because it was his ancestorial home. Albus knew bits and pieces, but it wasn't his place to keep digging. After all, he too had his fair share of personal demons he wasn't quite able to place into words for sharing. Either way, he knew this place and this view held a different kind of comfort for them both, but it was still nice to have someone to share such a moment. It only added to the growing ease he felt for a change.

"I did not know any better. When you are young and discover your talents for whatever they might be, there's an arrogance inside of you that makes you feel invincible. I think… I enjoyed the attention for a while. It was truly nice being recognized as a great wizard. I had worked so hard you see, but my vision was… distorted. I was living for the moment with little regard as to how it might affect my future. I was… also running away from the routine at home. I wanted… something more."

That something wasn't JUST Gellert and the bravery to love him out in the open. It was… freedom. And it was very selfish of him too. He knew that regardless of how hard he worked to change the world, Aberforth was never going to forgive him for being a selfish bastard. It was Albus who allowed Gellert to believe his own hype; who loved him despite the red flags he overlooked. And maybe he would NEVER deserve Aberforth's forgiveness; goodness he knew Ariana's death was not something he could just go back in time and fix. He just missed the companionship; the feeling of family. It was lonely out here in the world --- cold and unforgiving. It was one thing for strangers to ignore him but another thing entirely for his brother to pretend he didn't even exist anymore.

His own peaceful expression faltered briefly into one reminiscent of despair yet just as quickly he resumed the mask. The words of his partner broke through the despairing musings causing him to turn and look, biting back a bashful smile. Corvinus' words took him back to the very first time a bit of banter broke out between them. The professor's words were just as effective then as they were now. It still amazed Albus how he managed to be so oblivious to the man's interest. He thought… Well, he wasn't entirely certain anymore what he thought of the banter. Harmless fun maybe? In any event, he couldn't have been more wrong and finally had the kiss to prove it.

"I… I do not blush!" he protested, although even as he said the words he found himself having to break eye contact briefly. The smile Corvinus tore from him had cheeks hurting. So long has it been since anyone was able to pull such a smile from him yet Corvinus did so with little trouble. His charm was just too much. "This other view lives to torment me. I certainly hope he goes easy on me in the coming days or I fear I may not be long for this world. I would hope he'd have me at my best for sparring rather than a weakened puddle of water at his feet."

Because the idea of sparring Corvinus gave him two minds. On one hand, it was going to be a little strange trying to seriously duel someone he was growing ever so fond of. The temptation, at least on Albus' end, to hold back would be there and that would do him no good. Furthermore, it was far easier to duel a friend when emotions were involved. He wasn't angry with Corvinus nor did he wish to be. And he knew this was the heart of the issue with dueling Gellert too. The temptation to hold back would surely be at the forefront of his mind because it was unlike Albus to hurt anyone. Despite all of the killing Gellert had done, Albus had no knowledge of ever killing anyone. That is to say, IF he had killed someone in the past then that person was his sister and it was the not knowing for certain part that had him petrified of pushing himself anymore.

Ah, but he needed to calm his mind. His anxiety was building all over again and he certainly didn't need that right now. He was here now and while able, he wished to enjoy the serenity before reality set in again.

Blue eyes looked to his companion and after a moment he nodded. While it was true that he would not have minded standing here for a few moments more, there was still much to see here. "I would love to see the library and yes, I've always been rather fascinated with the Founders. I think anyone who truly cares about Hogwarts should at least be a little curious about them. After all, there have been many stories told over the years, but we know how word of mouth can be. The more people pass a story along, the more fabricated the stories become. I think it would be interesting to read everyone's first accounts of Hogwarts and truly delve into how they wished to mold their ideal students."

Albus found himself chuckling softly. "I think Helga had the right idea. I simply can't imagine having to pen my life and thoughts for the world to see someday. If they truly knew me, I doubt they would have much good to say about me. Not that I care about being loved anymore, but… there are some things best kept close to my heart. They wouldn't understand and I've a feeling that there's more to Salazar than we've been led to believe too. He may have taken all of his things, but perhaps clues were left behind that reveal more of the picture."

There's a pause as he moves closer to Corvinus, reaching out to take his hand. "It's fine. I wouldn't expect anyone to have too much information on the two most powerful of the founders, but admittedly, I would enjoy spending time reading the accounts over time while I am here. Just for fun to sate my curiosity. Whatever you have is more than enough. It is simply an honor to be allowed to handle such delicacies in the first place. I shall hardly complain, Ophiucus."

[aheart-on]

One more week, except I'm practically back from a year ago.

It's our finals week before the end of the first semester of my third year in uni. I should be pouring my brains out and scouring every page and study the life out of me but all I could think about are the words of a friend last Friday.

"You deserve effort, Belle." "Only you could put boundaries, and it's up to only you on how long you could endure this."

"I'm here, you're not alone."

"It's okay to feel that way..."

I'm glad I asked to talk to that friend, those words may not be much for others but those were enough for me. At that moment I felt seen and understood and that made me calm down. But I also cried my eyes out to him and I suppose I should be embarrassed but I felt safe to cry and not suppress the tears so I just.. released.

I really am not the type to hide my heart on my sleeve. I just physically can't and I don't know why. That friend remarked on how this is both a blessing and a curse for me and I couldn't agree more. Sometimes I am happy on how I am able to feel joy and love at an extreme but at the same time, when the hurt comes through, I couldn't ignore how overpowering it is and I'd wish I don't feel anything at all. I also realized I am a verbal processor. I like to talk. I like to write my thoughts out, even more so when talking it out. But then, I don't know, I feel ashamed of being this away. Maybe because people around me are not like this. They are able to be nonchalant, to go on with their daily tasks even though they have the heaviest heart at tow... I couldn't be like that. But when I do, I don't feel like myself. They say it's called being brave, I say it's called having no choice but to break.

It was in this month last year when my ex completely flipped the switched on me. He called my questions and compromises as "demands", and that I'm too much, too dramatic, too negative, when all I did was to ask why he's so angry with me, why every little thing ticks him off, and why does it feel like he doesn't love me anymore. Because it did feel that way. He wasn't like that during our first few months. He said he doesn't know. But then when we broke up, he told me the truth. He said the thrill wasn't there anymore. The spark was gone. And then proceed to go back talking to his ex and meeting someone new whilst still talking to me and saying how much he still loves me. My weight drastically dropped and during the time when he said how handful I am, and how tired he is of handling me and my 'demands', I was on medication. I was on antidepressants, mood stabilizers, and apparently something for schizophrenia. I stopped taking them when our relationship took a turn and I knew it was because of my meds. Because it was changing me. But later on, I realized how he didn't support me at all. He showed no consideration for me even though he knows I am on medication and that it costs me a lot-- financially, mentally, emotionally, and physically. I loved him so much I chose to tend to him instead of myself. And I think my body still remembers it. Still remembers the chase. The begging. The crying. The blows. The neglect. The feeling of being used. It's only been buried deep deep down ever since I got away from him and have been okay than ever. And maybe the reason why I am anxious than ever, with all that's happening within my family and my current relationships, is because whenever my body senses the feeling of hurt it translates it into feeling unsafe and puts my entire system on edge, anticipating the worst to come because that's how it was. I think he really did fuck me up and I am forever cursing him for this. No one deserves to be treated like that. It was also this month last last year when I first caught my father cheating. And this year, guess what? Caught him again. The funny thing is, it went exactly as the first time. He came home with food that he 'bought' even though he practically had no money, wasn't able to catch my eye, restless, and going straight to the bathroom to wash away his sins, maybe? (There's this rule, if you may, in our religion that when you had intercourse and had your climax, you should take a bath before praying.) And when he came home yesterday, it was close to the noon prayer. Which is why he did took a bath. And then my mother noticed. Everything went down, I went out, cried until my eyes were puffed and bled, and went home to console my mother in pieces.

But yeah, one more week to go. I should be able to exert every effort to do well with my exams, but.. who knows what this week will bring me. I am hoping for something good.

A dutch mill, maybe?

[raynewritingdownthoughts]

wed mar 22, 2023

after a very long call with currie, i feel so full. i feel as if we have finally reached the part in our friendship where it's fully transparent and it's so beneficial to both of us to hear each others' thoughts. work was slow, but i was able to let the time go by and it did. i had a nice interaction with nancy, who at first, makes me roll my eyes, but she's truly sweet and it must make her day to come in and spend time with both me and the objects. debra came in-- she experienced the strange narcissistic man that walked in after claiming he picked up trash, that was his own. i thanked her for being there and she, again, acknowledged my wisdom/mental quickness.

ezra and i chatted about apartments. it seems like maybe they'll stay in baltimore longer? i would greatly miss them if they left. i know deep down ezra and ryan are my family. they have been there like no others. ezra has really opened up with me to where it's no longer awkward when its just us. i think i've grown so much through my friendships. it wasn't possible to grow through my given family. my mom recognizes me somewhat, but she's never been someone to give adequate responses or feedback. in some ways i've matured past her. she may have the financial stability and no longer drinks, but she is very much still intertwined with deeply ingrained addictive tendencies, which continue to make her unavailable.

i do think about ado. every day. but the attachment is weakening. time is the healer. i am doing the work. i am paying attention. i am working and processing until i have healed. healing isn't linear, but as the months go by, i realize that i have changed in enormous ways. i am sober (116 days), i have stopped spending frivolously, i have limited my interactions with content on social medias, i have stopped making myself small and having no needs. i deserve respect. i deserve to be a priority to those i hold as a priority. no more one-sided relationships. no more unavailability. i have found such joy in making paper cutouts. it's cute and fun! i feel proud of the one in my fireplace.

kittan is next to me on his back looking so comfortable. i am so lucky to have him in my presence. he is so loving and silly and has the cutest meows and an expert cuddler. he is my family, too. this little home is us, and i am proud. we have a wonderful home filled with glory. we exist at the same time, as two different creatures who find solace in each other. i will get up early to fix myself the pasta for the pesto. maybe i can get myself to do morning exercise. but i refuse to pressure myself. i've been making great strides in having better care regimes.

i got through two difficult situations this week. both have seen some resolve. i am a great asset to hedgerow, i am valued, i am interesting, i am seen. i will ask for a raise in april. i deserve one. the shop wouldn't run without me! as for morgan, i will see how our meet-up goes. if i feel that she can't be present for me as a friend, i will have to re-evaluate. my time is precious. i want to make time for those who want to see me and don't make me feel unwanted/abandoned. as someone with abandonment fears, i acknowledge that i often feel the urge to leave before getting hurt. but with her i've made very direct attempts to show her i want us to hang out and that i cherish her. if that's not something she can do, i need to transfer this energy into new friendships that feel equal and/or things i've been wanting to do with and by myself. i'm really proud of me. i haven't said this to myself enough in my life. i no longer how to survive on crumbs. i am an adult and what had been a way of life growing up isn't how i need to live now. i am my own advocate. other people may seem as if they know more, but we all know and find out for ourselves. trust the process. trust yourself!