#i also need to stop being sick which i currently am

[corpsentry]

gotten by the d gray man manga, which i caught up to for the first time since i last read it in 2016, and its cast of angry stupid gay people. perhaps i am writing fanfiction again. or perhaps i am looking for a job, who is to say

[allylikethecat]

Maybe that end of the NA SATVB sickfic will be coming sooner than I planned- I feel like I am currently doing a lot of first hand research 💀🤧

[afternines]

.

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 

Yours truly, 

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 

Yours truly, 

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 

“Everything is wrong with that.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 

“Piss off.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 

“Please, just give u—” 

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 

“I second that.” 

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 

“Not your room?” 

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 

“You are getting restless.” 

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 

“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 

“Oh, good. It is just you.” 

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 

“What?” 

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 

“Your Highness.” 

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 

She gasped as you hugged her. 

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 

“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 

“WHAT?!” 

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.” 

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 

They all chuckled when you laughed. 

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

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[cameronspecial]

Let Me Take Care of You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Threatening to Get Someone Fired, Reader being sick

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Y/N can barely stand but it doesn't stop her from trying to go to class, so Rafe steps up and goes for her.

A/N: This is like a prequel to Let Me Handle It, Angel, but you can read it by itself or in any order.

Masterlist

Her nose shouldn’t be so stuffy with the amount of liquid dripping down from it right now. The tickle in the back of her throat that won’t go away no matter how many cough drops or tea she drinks is driving her crazy. To top it all off, she is constantly going between being hot and cold, which causes her to turn dizzy as she is taking Rafe’s sweater on and off. She blows her nose again to alleviate some of the build-up, but she still can’t breathe. 

Meanwhile, Rafe is in the kitchen getting her lunch ready. He hopes his mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup has enough broth to counterbalance the too much salt he accidentally put in. The butter bread he lays on the tray is to give her a little more substance and he is about to pour her some freshly squeezed orange juice into her favourite mug. He goes to get the juice to find his frat brother, Topper, about to pour the last of the juice into his own cup. The death glare Rafe sends his best friend stops the other boy. Rafe grabs the glass jug from the boy and pours it into her mug. He brings the tray of food upstairs to find her trying to change into some leggings. She got dizzy trying to put them on standing up so now, she is rolling around his bedroom floor trying to yank her pants up her bloated lower body. Rafe sighs at the sight of her and places the tray on his desk. 

“Stop, please. Let me take care of you, Angel. Please,” he begs, taking off the leggings and putting his sweatpants back on for her. She resists a little, not because she is uncomfortable with his help but because she wants the leggings on, “No, Rafe. I have to go to class. I need to put some clothes on.” He shakes her head at her begging. “No, angel. You can barely stand up, let alone go to class. Please, sit back down and eat something,” he orders, guiding her to sit up against his headboard so she can eat. She refuses, “I have class, Rafe. I need to go. This prof takes attendance for a mark.” “Well, then I’ll go for you. I’ll record the lecture and even take notes for you, angel. Just please, stay here and get some rest,” he offers, starting to get changed into some clothes to head to her class. 

“Rafe, that would never work. The professor knows what I look like and that I’m a girl.”

“Don’t worry about it, my sweet angel. I’ll take care of it. Now, I expect to see all of that food gone by the time I get back, understand?”

——

Rafe sits at the back of the lecture hall with different coloured pens and a pencil before him. He writes the date in her notebook as neatly as possible then switches to a blue pen for the title. One lazy afternoon together, when they first got together, she was studying while he just watched her. He asked her why she liked handwritten notes and why she used different colours. She explained that the handwritten notes are better for her to transcribe when she studies and the different pens help her visualize the notes better. So he is going to try his best to copy her notes how she likes it. 

The clock hits 2 P.M. and Professor Simmons begins the attendance. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he calls out, looking around the front rows for her familiar face. Rafe’s hand darts up, “Present.” The masculine voice causes Professor Simmons to look up from his computer. “You aren’t Ms. Y/L/N,” he questions with an arch brow. 

“No, I am not. But she is currently sick at the moment so I’m filling in. So you can just mark her as here.”

“I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t how this works.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Rafe Cameron. Y/N’s loving boyfriend, but also a Cameron. The same Cameron, whose name is on the business building. One phone call and I can have you fired. Tenure or not. So do we have any problem with me being here for Y/N?”

Rafe holds his phone up about to dial his dad, who would do anything in a heartbeat for Y/N because he thinks she is good for Rafe. The auditorium goes silent as they wait for the professor to answer. Professor Simmons shakes his head and continues on with the list. 

——

The door opening makes Y/N look towards it. Her boyfriend stands at the entrance with a grin on his face and ice cream in his hand. “How did it go?” she barely gets out between coughs, reaching for the pint of ice cream she knows she shouldn’t be eating. Rafe wraps his arm around her and places a kiss on her temple, “Without a problem. How are you feeling, angel?” “That’s good. Thank you for going. And a little better. I haven’t puked since you left,” she tells him, eating another bite of ice cream. He smiles at that fact, “I would do anything for you. I’m so glad you are better. I love you, angel.” 

“I love you too, Rafe.”

[adissonswifey]

Cover your cough.

Addison Montgomery x f!reader.

Being on Addison's Montgomery service is not an easy job. Especially when you have to look for her all over the hospital. Unfortunately Seattle Grace has a lot of good hiding spots.

"Hey, have you seen Dr. Montgomery?" You asked one of the nurses.

"No, sorry." She replied and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, thanks."

You like most of the nurses, they're really nice and very helpful but some of them are horrible. For example, this one, her name is Bria and she's a pain in the ass. Which makes you sad because you've always been really nice to her, unlike other residents.

You had been looking for her for an hour already, You really thought that Bailey wanting to get rid of you, did not mention that Addison had taken time off. Just when you were really about to give up you walked into one of the one-call rooms. You sat down on the bed that faced the couch and saw pink scrubs you've been looking for.

"There you are, I've been searching for you all day Dr. Montgomery," you mumbled. "Oh, are you okay?"

She didn't look like she was ok. She was sitting leaning on the couch and almost melting.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, y/n," she replied.

You walked up to her and put your hand on her forehead. You had never seen an attending in such a state. Especially her. You've never seen her like that.

"Shit, you're burning up and I'm pretty sure that white paint has more color than your face. You're not okay, Addison. You're sick," you gasped. "Come on, I'll drive you home." You stuck out your hand.

"No, y/n. You have patients, you can't just leave. I'm gonna be fine." She protested trying to get up.

"No, come on. Lay on the bed or you can stay on the couch, whatever you feel comfortable with and I'll go to the chief and tell him that you're sick and that I'm the only one who's going to drive you home. You stay here."

As you said, so you did. You went to the chief and explained to him that you were currently on Addison's service and actually weren't busy at the time. At first he didn't like the idea, but when you started talking about how dangerous it was for her patients to stay, he quickly succumbed. Also, you bought water and a sandwich because she looked like she needed energy.

"Okay, I'm back. Do you want a sandwich? Water?" She nodded her head no. "Addison, drink this at least and don't argue with me." She finally gave in. "Are you in any pain? Anything I could look into?"

"My stomach hurts a little bit," she muttered.

"Lift your shirt up."

"No, y/n. That's fine, I'm fine."

"Stop being so stubborn, please let me help you. You finally have a chance to see how good I am." She smirked. "Now come on, lift your shirt a little bit."

You examined her abdomen and also did an ultrasound to be safe. Everything looked fine. But you could tell she was in pain, and you don't quite know why, but you felt a strange feeling in your chest. When you finally made it to your car you breathed a sigh of relief. You knew that at this point her only option was to go with you. I mean, after all, she was already in the car anyway.

It was the first time you were in the apartment of any attending, well, maybe not counting the fact that Derek practically lived in the house you lived. You climbed the stairs and soon found yourselves in a cozy apartment. You told Addison to sit on the couch and covered her with a blanket right off the bat. She looked innocent, almost like a baby.

"Why are you doing this?" You heard her raspy voice behind you.

"Huh?"

"You're nice to me and you've always been, even when you found out about me and Mark. Even when I was hard on you. I mean, I get that you're a doctor too so you help people, but just... why are you helping me?"

You couldn't hide the fact that you just cared. Fact, Addison did stupid things in life, as we all do, but that didn't make her a bad person. Besides, you started to have a little crush on her from the first time you saw her, and on top of that you became something like friends and she was really close to you. You understood each other.

"I just care about you," you responded and turned around to look at her. "Okay look, this is probably not a very good time to tell you this but... I kinda have a crush on you?" You made a weird face. "I didn't tell you anything because this whole thing with Derek and then Mark was hard on you, but yeah I have a crush on you, maybe something even more than a crush. Also we're friends, really good friends so stop asking me these ridiculous questions," you explained.

"You have a crush on me?" Her eyes widened.

"God, sorry I didn't mean to make you... Look, we don't have to do anything about it. I'll be fine. Just forget it." You smiled awkwardly.

Couple days later...

"You finally told her?" Mer asked and took a bite of her fries, you covered your face with your hands.

"That wasn't the plan but yeah I did. God, I'm so embarrassed." You laughed.

"Was she shocked?" Alex asked.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"You're right, this is dumb. She's practically you're boss." Cristina shrugged her shoulders.

"You're acting like you didn't screwd an attending yourself." You rolled your eyes and she just raised her hands in defense.

You're pager went off. You looked at it. It said 211 which meant that Addison paged you. You looked up at everyone's faces, most of them smirked.

"Is that your lover?" Izzie teased you.

"I hate you all, I have to go." You got up from the table and headed toward Addison's office.

You felt like you was going to throw up. You haven't seen her for a few days, after you left her apartment that day you couldn't go back. You felt stupid. You told her, you told her you felt something and she just sat there looking at you so you left as soon as you could. You didn't want to make things awkward between you, you had already passed that stage when Addison found out that your friend was Meredith.

You stood in front of the door urging yourself to knock, and when you finally worked up the courage you almost ran out of there.

"Hey, you paged me," you said looking into the office.

She was sitting at her desk, looking much better than a few days earlier. Although overall she always looked good which was unfair.

"Can we, ummm... talk about what happened?" She asked looking at you with a slight site of embarrassment in her eyes.

"Oh, sure. Why not?" you said ironically. "So I told you I have a crush and you looked at me like I was crazy, then I felt like I actually was, so I left and been avoiding you since then."

She stood up from the desk and faced you. You both breathed loudly.

"I didn't look at you like you were crazy!"

"You know when was the last time I said I liked someone!?" Now you both raised your voices. "What are you doing?" you asked confused when she came so close that you could feel her breath on your face.

"Would you just stand still?" She asked and came close enough that your lips touched in a kiss.

At that moment you thought you could fly. Your knees bent under you as soon as her hands reached your hair. God she kissed so well. Her lips were softer than anything you've ever known. It was sweet, effortlessly sweet. You wrapped your arms around her waist, her hands were in your hair. You lost yourself in her.

You break the kiss. You felt dizzy. You swear you could still feel her lips on yours. You were breathless for a moment, the silence was now filled only by your breathing.

"You..." you whispered.

"I didn't know what to say, y/n. I've never been with a woman... It's just so confusing because, I would know what I should've done that day, if you were a man but you're not and... I like you, I never even thought about falling in love with a woman. It's just... You're so caring, beautiful, smart... I..." Her eyes were running all over the room.

"Look at me," you breathed. Her blue eyes finally looked straight into yours. "God your eyes are so beautiful." You ran your thumb over her cheek. "We don't have to rush anything. Baby steps, okay?" you asked her and she nodded.

"Baby steps." She bit her lip. "Now, please kiss me." You smirked and pulled her closer to finally put your lips in a long kiss.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Could you please write more about pregnant Tiriel? Your writing about her finding out she's expecting and about Astarion hearing the baby's heartbeat were one of my favorites?

Synopsis: Astarion takes care of pregnant Tiriel.

Tags: dadstarion, pregnancy, fluff

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Waiting

“I think I am going to die in childbirth,” Tiriel says, pressing her face to her knees.

Astarion would sigh if he could. Tiriel sits shoulder-deep in a bath of warm water, as the vampire washes her hair and rubs her back.

“You aren’t going to die. You are a half-elf and I am sure the child is rather small. Look at your belly, you are in your last month and it’s not really showing.”

Tiriel turns away. Well, to call her belly small would be an underestimation – her slim body is currently betraying pregnancy. It’s covered in stretch marks that won’t disappear, ever. But again, Astarion has seen many pregnant human women in Daggerlake within the last five years and Tiriel has definitely been spared, carrying someone who takes after their elven ancestors.

But once Astarion thinks he’s managed to cheer her up, Tiriel sniffs.

“What if something is wrong with the baby? You are a vampire! I love you and all that, but you are still undead! What am I even carrying inside? And what if the child is sick? Or deformed? Or…What if it is going to kill me?”

“I can promise you, if something goes wrong, we are saving you,” Astarion splashes water on her hair.

“Thank you.”

He kisses her shoulder. “Don’t worry that much, the last thing you need is to cause a complication.”

Tiriel touches his fingers. 

Astarion adds more soap to the tub. The scent of vomit and sweat still lingers on Tiriel’s skin and Astarion takes a clean piece of rug.

Tiriel has been feeling so bad in the last few days she barely left her bed. Her legs hurt, she couldn’t eat without vomiting, and she hardly slept because of back pains. She finally made herself go out that evening to eat properly, but, the moment Tiriel finished her dinner, she felt nauseous and everything Astarion had cooked for her ended up on her home shirt.

That moment, Astarion had enough of that and carried Tiriel to the bath. 

“I'm sorry,” she says.

“What for?”

“I look disgusting.”

“Nothing is disgusting about a pregnant woman,” Astarion says, rubbing her left ear. “Besides, I’ve seen and done much worse things than giving a bath to someone I’ve knocked up. Your condition is my fault and I am taking full responsibility! Now, let me wash your front.”

Tiriel presses her back against the tub allowing Astarion to get to her belly and legs. Astarion smiles seeing the visible bump and carefully rubs the skin.

He is so close he can hear the second heartbeat. 

It is not clear to him when the child is going to be born. Elves are pregnant for two years, but Tiriel’s body is hardly capable of doing so. Humans need nine months for the same process, but Astarion has learned from the healers in Secomber, the closest big town to Daggerlake, that it’s never clear with half-elves. And it also depends on the child – Astarion tries to think about the baby as an elf with just a bit of human ancestry (still enough to fuck up the gentle elven biology).

But in reality…

The child is half-him, half a vampire anyway. And that should bother him.

He is afraid of that moment. He waits for that moment to come. And he also misses Tiriel in sensual terms. He wants her blood (which is out of reach for him till she stops breastfeeding), he wants her body (they haven’t had sex ever since she got pregnant). 

And he wants her to stop being in such pain daily.

“I look ugly,” Tiriel chuckles. “Don’t try to say it’s not true.”

“It's not. You are beautiful!”

Suddenly Tiriel flicks his nose. “My eyes are here.”

Astarion realizes he’s been staring at her swollen breasts and small droplets of white liquid on Tiriel’s nipples.

“Stop all this nonsense, Tiriel!'' Astarion takes her leg and stretches it to wash it better. “I like caring about you. I like how you look. And I absolutely love that it's me who did this to you. It all feeds my vampiric possessiveness, after all!”

“And I love that it was you who did this to me,” Astarion feels Tiriel’s fingers on his cheek.

“Now, get out of the water before it gets too cold!” Astarion brings towels. “Is food still out of the question?”

“I want something hot to drink.”

“I will make you herbal tea, then.”

Astarion, after making sure she is dry, carries Tiriel to bed.

He looks outside. What he loves about his house in the underground part of Daggerlake is the big windows. There is no point in hiding from the sun, and Astarion can enjoy going outside whenever he wants. Besides, the biggest part of the town is underground too, and Astarion also doesn’t feel like an outcast.

And his neighbors have seen much worse things than vampires who know the law.

Suddenly Tiriel yelps. He turns to her and notices the night shirt she’s put on is wet. 

But wasn’t Tiriel's skin dry when he took her from the bath?

Tiriel hugs her belly and lets out a cry of pain. 

“Tiriel…” Astarion rushes to her. No, not today. He still needs time to get ready.

Tiriel grabs his shoulder. “Go to the healer… I am.. Gods…”

The child has decided to be born today. ------ You can read what happens next in Little Bundle of Darkness --

@tugoslovenka  

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@vixstarria 

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@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

[a-big-chicken-nerd]

can we get more info on the movie ice emperor (i am sickly obsessed with the ice chapter and the ninjago movie. i will kill a man for more of the funny guy if needed)

WOOHOO OKAY im glad you asked i think about him constantly

first of all im open for ideas on what movie!neverrealm is like because im having a hard time coming up with anything but currently what ive sort of vaguely got is that its just more technologically advanced (not modern though) (like. mid to late 1800s-ish??)

vex is pretty much the same in personality except now hes british and is like a tired single parent

anyway ice emperor

hes not allowed to leave his throneroom and no one but vex is allowed inside the throneroom "for his safety" (its actually because hes so silly and un-royaltylike and vex worries no one will take the ice emperor seriously if they actually meet him)

he has a lot more energy than show!emperor and is constantly bored

internally watches his movie collections a LOT. from the outside it looks like hes just wandering around his throneroom and stopping to stare at nothing for about an hour, going over to a new spot and staring off again for another two hours

makes vex watch movies with him sometimes. ice emperors favorite movies are the star wars prequels, which vex also thought were cool at first but got sick of them after being forced to watch them like 45 different times throughout the years

makes tracks with ice around the throneroom to roll down on his heelies. vex will come in to a whole icy skatepark setup and the ice emperor will be like "crowd_cheering.mp3 VEX CHECK THIS OUT" and roll down a single ramp and immediately fall over and vex just has to clap and go "wow my lord that was so "sick""

vex HAS to hang out with ice emperor and try to keep him entertained or he will get bored & lonely and throw a fit and freeze everything in the castle

ice emperor is falling apart because he isnt made of titanium like show!emperor is, like whatever his outer layer is made of isnt handling the low temperatures and years of no maintenance very well at all. the armor and the mask is to hide all the damage . whether or not that makes him more or less creepy looking is up to personal opinion

he broke the Ten Billion Lumen Light in the throneroom on accident :[

and of course: BOREALL movie!boreal is a dragon but he acts like a big kitty. he is just lazy and doesnt listen to anyone except ice emperor and is usually lounging around on the castle roof.

will do what the ice emperor says but only takes the command as a suggestion. he gets distracted easily and takes shortcuts so he can be done and go back to napping

LOVES getting scritched behind the horns

uses the castle walls as a scratching post

he would LOVE the big laser pointer

the only time ice emperor can ever leave his throneroom is to go on the roof to tell boreal to do stuff (they always end up playing and hanging out for ages instead)

ice emperor makes big ice mice for boreal to chase around and catch

the ninja didnt have to kill boreal in this au. they saw this big wyvern displaying kitty behaviors and were like "oh yeah this is just like meowthra" and (very easily) distracted and befriended him. he got a lot of behind-the-horn scritches that day

im glad u guys seem to like movieverse emperor too because he just kind of kicked down the door of my brain one day and made himself at home and refuses to leave

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for hiding the kitchen pot I hate from my partner, who keeps using it even though I’ve asked him not to?

I (28NB) live with my partner (29M) and we love cooking together. We have a ton of various things for cooking, including a great number of pots and pans. Specifically, we have this massive pot—think the size of that one pot used for that chili in that gif of the office where the guy drops the chili everywhere. It’s huge!! And I hate it. It is technically my pot…actually, a majority of our kitchen things are originally mine, because I’ve lived on my own a lot longer than my partner has, and I have always had more cooking experience than he has too. The problem is, when he is the one to do the cooking for us, he is constantly using the giant pot that I hate, even when we have PLENTY of other pots that are much more suitable for whatever it is he’s cooking. In fact, it’s incredibly rare for us to ever have a meal that would actually warrant using the giant one, and when we do, it’s almost exclusively made in the crock pot.

Another problem with it is that it always takes up way too much space wherever it is—it takes up the majority of the sink, so often it will sit on the stove while it’s dirty since it barely fits in the sink, and naturally it takes up way too much space in the dishwasher too, when it’s actually in there. It’s also really fucking awful to wash by hand, especially if there’s ANY other dishes in the sink too. And of course, even though he and I take turns doing the dishes, I am almost always the one that ends up having to deal with it when it gets used. I don’t think he necessarily times it on purpose that way, but it has happened enough that I’ve had to ask him repeatedly to stop using it because I was sick of having to wash it, or at the very least, immediately washing it himself after using it…ESPECIALLY since there has always been a suitable alternative pot that would still fit whatever he’s cooking, and be a lot smaller and easier to deal with.

I got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, because he continued to use it whenever he cooks and needs a pot for…just about anything. I didn’t want to throw it away, because it’s technically my pot to begin with, and there’s nothing *wrong* with it, other than being too big and inconvenient. So, there was one day when I was doing the dishes while he was at work, and sure enough, that stupid fucking pot was dirty from him making something that did NOT need that big of a pot. I decided enough was enough, and I washed it by hand and looked for a place to hide it. It currently lives in our coat closet, behind several spare towels, bedding, etc. and I highly doubt he would run into it, since we barely use everything in there. I had completely forgotten I’d hidden it (I think I hid it a few weeks ago now), because thankfully, I’ve not seen it around, obviously.

That is, until this evening when my partner was making some pasta for us. I had just put a load of dirty dishes in the dishwasher, which was in the middle of a cycle while he was cooking. So, as he’s getting ready to cook the noodles while the meat sauce was cooking still, he asks me if “the pot” was in the dishwasher. I asked him what pot he was talking about, and he specified he meant the unnecessarily big fucking pot that I hate, and have hidden in the coat closet. I quickly covered myself by saying “I think so…” in response to his question about it being in the dishwasher, and immediately started talking about the multiple other pots that would be perfectly fine to cook some spaghetti in. I went to grab one that was dirty and hand washed it for him, but by the time I went to hand it to him, he’d dug out another one that was clean—even smaller than the 1 I was offering him, and smaller still than a couple other pots in the cabinet, further proving that he absolutely did NOT need to use such a massive pot, since the one he chose was about a third of the size of the one I hate.

Well, all that worked out, dinner was made very easily and tasted great. And I was right that even if his instinct was always to use that stupid fucking massive pot for…literally anything that needed to be cooked in a pot, no matter how small the food is, we have plenty of more reasonably sized alternatives that I won’t want to scream when it’s time to do dishes (or use the kitchen sink when it’s sitting there dirty, or use the goddamn stove when the stupid thing is sitting there because there’s nowhere else it will fit). However, I have started feeling kinda guilty about lying to him about it. I also know eventually he will probably find out I hid it from him and lied about it. So, AITA here??

Tl;dr my partner loves to cook using a giant pot that takes up too much space, despite never needing a pot that big for literally anything we are cooking, and always having plenty of alternative cooking pots that are more reasonable…I asked him several times not to use it or at least wash it immediately himself so I don’t have to deal with it myself, but he keeps completely ignoring me about that…so I hid it from him, only now I feel guilty when he asked where it was and I lied.

What are these acronyms?

[drdemonprince]

To the COVID anon: my pro-Palestinian writing mentions the importance of masking and bringing masks to protest multiple times, so I'm not sure why you're under the impression that it doesn't. Please also keep in my that my essays are typically queued up for weeks, if not months, prior to their publication -- you should not assume that because I am talking about riding on a plane in an essay published today that I am currently that moment on a plane during a surge. You also shouldn't assume that I'm not masking in airports, train cars, and other public spaces (I am).

Since the beginning of the pandemic, I have had to deal with people assuming the absolute worst of my own personal behavior regarding COVID because I am critical of how public systems have failed to encourage and facilitate COVID mitigation. It's infuriating to be on the receiving end of such moralizing bad faith assumptions and for them to always be posed to me in an accusatory tone. I speak about this topic LESS because of the amount of bad-faith, moralizing, perfectionistic shit people throw my way.

I understand why you feel completely left behind anon, but projecting the most negative possible actions and intentions onto another person who does take this issue very seriously and has been writing about it regularly since March 2020 is not helpful. I need people to stop being propagandized into believing that COVID's spread is caused by nobody giving a fuck and not doing the "right" thing. Lots of us take principled, informed action constantly only to be told that we aren't doing enough or that we must be fucking up somehow because the situation is still bad. It's still bad because our public systems have failed us repeatedly.

If I were going to write about COVID masking in an essay about how disability is manufactured, it would be about how the government and employers forced people into work and made them sick and disabled for life. I would be writing about the Biden administration discouraging masking and no longer funding rapid tests. I would discuss school openings, reduced Medicaid benefits, and all the other systemic forces that have pushed people to have no choice but to take more risk and to lose their life or worsen their health because of it. And then, after I'd written that, which I have written many times before, people would accuse me of being an anti-masker who doesn't care about chronically ill people because I... go to protests and am required to travel for my job.

We can't build a disability justice movement on assuming the worst of other people who we are in community with, punishing them with judgement when they do speak out about COVID (thereby discouraging them from doing so further), and moralizing every individual choice (real or imagined) at the expense of focusing on the systemic causes of behavior.

[augustvandyne]

hey, I was wondering if you could write this for Lucy Chen? Where reader is doing everything possible to get her back from being kidnapped. Which leases to the reader exposing their relationship to everyone in the station and doesn’t care about what anyone thinks, and only wants to get their girl back. Thanks for your time.

it’s kinda short but i love miss lucy and love writing for her!! i hope she gets treated better in the new season!

lucy and angela are my current obsession so please ask about them 🙏🏼 i also am loving the andy asks right now too!!

our girl

You were the one that figured it out.

Lucy had had a particularly hard role in the case that had taken place yesterday, and you knew she needed something to take her mind off of it.

When the group of you—Jackson, Lucy, John, Armstrong, and you had went out a day or two prior, Lucy had been approached by an old friend, and the two had hit it off after so many years.

You pushed her to go out with him last night, but she never came home to yours, Jackson’s, and hers shared home.

Lucy and you had been dating for a short while, but in secret.

It’s not that you didn’t want anyone to know or that you didn’t want to fill out paper work, but the two of you enjoyed just being you. You were afraid that if you let anyone in on your little secret, it would ruin the two of you.

But you had gotten over that fear a while ago, and now you really didn’t care if anyone found out. Even though you still hadn’t told them.

“Have you seen Lucy?” You and Jackson were frantic to find Lucy. You were both praying on the inside that she’d just went straight to work instead of coming home first.

That hope was crushed when John replied with, “Uh, no, not yet.”

“She didn’t come home last night,” Jackson gave an anxious look towards you.

“She’s a grown woman. Why? Are you worried?” John led the two of you into the main part of the station before roll call.

“No—“

“Yes,” You said fast, earning stares from both men. “She— she always comes home. She never misses our shows.”

“She was supposed to come home and watch our show,” Jackson agreed.

John had led the two of you towards Harper to ask the same questions, although, she hadn’t seen Lucy either.

Nyla takes the three freaking out officers towards Grey and Tim, who try to think better of things, only for their suggestions to be shot down by the three.

“Everybody listen up,” Grey announces after giving everyone but you a job. “Officer Lucy Chen has not been seen for approximately 13 hours. Given the circumstance, we cannot rule out abduction. So stop whatever you’re doing. I want everyone on this until she’s located.”

Your throat tightens in your chest and you feel like you can’t breathe. It only gets worse when Nyla and John come back over to you and Grey to tell you that her phone hadn’t been pinged since last night, around when they were set to meet.

“We believe Caleb is Rosalind’s protégé,” Grey says to the group.

You clench your jaw, your nerves only getting worse. Your breathing becomes slightly shallow and your hands shaky.

“.. and he took Officer Chen.”

Your gaze goes to the floor as you begin to have a panic attack. Lucy was the only one who knew about your anxiety and the attacks you got. She was also the only one who knew how to help you through them.

“I know how upsetting this is, but we have to remain focused,” Grey says, him and Armstrong sharing a look at your shaking body. “She’s counting on us. Any questions? Officer L/n?”

“No,” You take in a deep breath. “I don’t accept this.”

“Officer L/n..” Grey approaches you and puts his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“No!” You cry. “I cannot lose her, do you understand? I will not lose her because some sick psychopath doesn’t want to give up what makes her feel good and because she won’t stop killing from behind bars. She’s my— she’s the love of my life and I can’t lose her. I love her, and I haven’t even gotten to tell her that yet,” You scoff. “So we have to find her. Do you understand me?”

A few people whispered behind you, and a look of surprise flashes through Grey’s eyes, before they turn back to sympathetic.

“We will find her,” Grey promises. “We will get our girl back.”

You collapse into Grey’s arms, wanting nothing more than to just be embraced even if it isn’t by Lucy.

“Come on, Y/n,” John pulls you from the Sergeants arms. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll find her. Even if I have to kill Rosalind myself.”

“I call dibs,” You say.

Rosalind’s clues lead you out to a house in the middle of nowhere.

Caleb had found Armstrong along the way, and while Nyla and John took care of him and Caleb, the rest of the team had the job of searching the thousands of miles of dirt for a single clue as to where your girl was.

You searched for what felt like ever in the scorching hot heat.

A light catches your eye and you realize it’s the ring you’d given Lucy a few weeks ago. She must’ve thrown the ring on the ground before she was forced into the barrel.

You gasped as you slid onto the ground, immediately picking the ring up.

You stumble with putting the ring into your pocket, grateful she’s below you, but also terrified of what you’ll find when you dig the barrel up.

“Over here!” Your voice breaks as you begin to dig the dirt up. “Over here! Hurry!”

You hear hurried footsteps as Angela, Jackson, Tim, and the whole crew come running towards you to help dig the barrel up.

A few officer have shovels which makes the eternity go by faster.

When you hit the top of the barrel, you pull on the lid with all your strength and try to pull her out of the barrel on your own, but you fail.

“Help me, come on! Help me get her out.”

You lay her on the dirt, her feet still slightly dangling into the barrel.

She isn’t breathing, and you perform CPR to revive her. The second she starts breathing again you have her in your arms, rocking her back and forth.

“Baby,” You cry into her hair.

“Y/n/n,” Lucy looks at you and begins crying, her head finding your chest so no one could see her face.

“Oh, Lucy,” You hold her right, never letting go. “I love you.”

[melfinawins]

I'm going to write a longish post on this, but yeah.

Also, if you're not down for vague dooming, don't read this lmao

For me, The Bear is a Hallmark movie with more swearing and more teeth. It'll end in the same spot as a Hallmark movie. Carmy will find balance and either be on his way to healing those open wounds from his childhood or will have healed them. He'll be self satisfied. Balanced. Home is Where the Heart Is type shit with a dash of All the Answers I was Searching for was Here all Along!

The question of romance on the show for me was about which romance trope was being used.

Was it going to be Carmy reconnecting with an old flame from his past? Or was it Carmy meets a person who changes his life for the better, but they're quirky/awkward and even though she drives him crazy, she drives him crazy.

I've seen the BTS from S4. I'm of two minds on this. Either Storer and co decided to resolve the romance aspect of the show a season early (weird, but I kind of like that?? That's certainly not as common these days) and it's about other things in s4 pertaining to the suspicions some of us have about Syd's job prospects. And then s4 is about either getting her back or a rivalry or just connecting on a personal level again. There are more options I'm sure, but those are the ones I'm thinking about currently.

Or, Claire is really just the cold prep as @chefkids and @thoughtfulchaos773 and others have more eloquently said, and Carmy will realize he wants Syd at the end of the series and breaks up with Claire.

The part of me who loves interesting stories and unexpected turns wants the romance part to be resolved because that's fun to me. But the black woman that I am who is so fucking sick and tired of seeing black characters support and lift up white characters is like, over it.

Another way I can see this going on the romance part is really what Joanna Calo said about Syd and Carmy: they really are just platonic and messy! So Carmy gets the best of two women. Cool. 🤢

Anyway!

I like to keep in mind that The Bear is a story about Chris, Gillian and his sister. The show is biographical in nature and when I think about SydCarmy not happening, it's more because Chris is like ew, Syd represents my sister and that's gross and less I don't value the stories of black women.

Like, Claire is a doctor and I kinda hate that her position in Carmy's life is so on the nose and I want for men to fucking stop treating the women in their lives like their therapists and parents/bangmaids Jesus fucking Christ. But Storer is a man, and a white man at that, so. 🙃 Like, Carmy has real issues that need a professional. No pussy is gonna cure that, not even Syd's!

If Carmy is the literal worst in s3 and nukes all his relationships because he refuses to get therapy and deal with his issues, I hope he and Claire end up together and stay together because damn, Syd deserves more than that dysfunction because she really is already too good for him.

But he hasn't done anything that's not salvageable. Yet.

Anyway, thanks for attending my Ted Talk!

[thewertsearch]

Yep. That's a 'fuck this shit' face if I ever saw one.

CC: T)(ere is not)(ing to worry about at all. GG: bluhhh what are you talking about…. GG: my head hurts GG: just stop it, stop trolling me GG: i hate you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Understandable. Jade's most recent memories are a garbled collection of monster nightmares, immediately preceded by her own death. She just woke up, but what she needs more than anything else is a break.

GG: my dream was horrible!!! GG: i dont know what that was, i have never dreamed anything like it CC: Yes, I imagine not! You )(ave spent your w)(ole life dreaming about prospit, no? GG: oh god…. GG: prospit :( GG: is it really gone? CC: Yes, Jade. It is time to face t)(e facts! CC: Our moons are gone too. If we wis)( to sleep now, our dreams must take place in t)(e bubbles glubbed by t)(e gods w)(o live in t)(e Furt)(est Ring.

This is the real perk to being a Derse Dreamer. Your affiliation with the Furthest Ring makes you well-equipped to navigate the shadowy, garbled world of the Horrorterrors - unlike your Prospitian siblings, who are too accustomed to Skaia's gentle light.

It makes a kind of sense, I think, that the darker Dreamers would only reveal their true potential in death. Their 'ghosts' can rendezvous outside the session, which could grant them all sorts of advantages.

CC: In fact, t)(ey are quite )(elpful if you know )(ow to talk to t)(em! CC: Don't you remember our dream? I was trying to s)(ow you t)(at t)(ere is not)(ing to fear.

Feferi, in particular, has an eldritch affinity which is completely off the charts. The Horrorterrors are effectively her family, and with her serving as a guide, the Furthest Ring is a little bit safer for everyone else.

Perhaps, with Feferi's help, it could be safe enough to serve as a hideout. Both sessions seem to be living on borrowed time, so establishing a 'safe house' external to any Incipisphere seems like an excellent idea. The Horrorterrors claim to be here to help, so maybe it's time for them to prove it.

...wow. I never expected Feferi to be a potential lynchpin of the Grand Intersession Plan, but here we are.

GG: sorry but GG: could you please GG: not use all those stupid parentheses?????? [...] CC: GLUUUUB oh fine. CC: I will suspend my neato quirk just for you. [...] GG: what about the -E thing, can you stop that too? it is also annoying and stupid [...] CC: Okay, you win. I have officially humbled myself before you. Entirely glubbing peasant-IFICATED for your pleasure.

If only Gamzee would do the same...

GG: ohhhhhhh!!!!! GG: i do remember you! GG: i remember you were talking to me about my lusus, and i had no idea what you were talking about GG: also it was shortly before your friend sent me a weird message GG: about how my robot was going to explode, and i should talk to him when it happens

At first, I thought we'd missed a conversation in the hell-bubble - but no, this unseen conversation happened immediately before she talked to Future Karkat.

This does appear to be the timeframe that he needs to talk to her in - but I don't see what this Jade could do to help him. As she so aptly put it, she currently understands jack shit.

Perhaps there's something she needs to do immediately before Entering. Does Karkat have an idea for what she should prototype?

CC: Oh? Who was that? GG: it was the most awful and angry one GG: i am so sick of him, i really dont want to talk to that pathetic jerk ever CC: Ah, Karkat. Of course.

lmao

[bloodpen-to-paper]

PSA regarding cultural exchange and internet culture. Its a rant but its something that needs to be said

I'm already seeing the Qsmp admins calling for understanding and patience with the announcement of the Korean CCs that will be joining, and it frustrates the hell out of me that any of it needs to be said because people on the internet are so poisoned by cancel culture that this opportunity to engage with Korean culture is beginning with stress.

Its an issue that extends far past this server unfortunately, the modern standard for morality on the internet is insanely unrealistic and honestly very anti-human. So many people, most people actually, do problematic things in life and make mistakes, which is completely normal. Its how we are and how we're supposed to be, its how we learn and grow. But having someone get dogpiled/harassed online and potentially even risk losing a career for saying or doing something vaguely problematic that they should be encouraged to learn from is so incredibly harmful and makes the online place more toxic than communal.

There's a legitimate line to draw between something we should encourage someone to reflect upon and a genuinely irredeemable act, and if you can't tell the difference you then shouldn't be speaking about it online. To all the people who dramatize an easily fixable situation, you're part of the problem of people not knowing how the fuck to act when there's miscommunication, differences of opinion or people doing/having done something problematic but not ill-intentioned. Genuinely good people are being either pressured off the online space or terrified to ever make a mistake because people who don't touch enough goddamn grass are so drama-addicted that they make a situation negative when it literally never needed to be. You're toxic and you're making everyone else toxic, the problem is not the person who accidentally said something offensive in ignorance but is willing to learn from that, nor the person who misunderstood a situation and could be convinced to reflect on their actions, the problem is you, adding unnecessary fuel to the fire and blowing shit out of proportion when it could be resolved so much easier. If you're someone who does this, I hate to sound like a boomer but holy shit you should be ashamed of yourself. There's enough bad in the world as is, stop posting and do better.

And here's the funny part, and I don't care how many people this pisses off: current online cancel culture is xenophobic as fuck. People in different cultures have different ways of life, and though that doesn't necessarily excuse some of what goes on in other nations, the current standard for "dealing" with culture clashing takes no account to how someone's culture can make them act differently than you, and they shouldn't be demonized for it even if some of what they do isn't the best. People from multi-ethnic backgrounds, especially children of immigrants, understand that some of our parents say the most cancellable shit imaginable but are still good people at heart. Strangers online wouldn't understand that at all, and their need to complain about everything online with such hostility and lack of nuance would and is doing the exact opposite of what it should be doing; instead of getting people to see different perspectives and learn why their behavior can be harmful to others, thus encouraging them to do better, online witch hunting either drives them away from wanting to interact with anyone, and/or actively pushes them further down problematic avenues where they aren't demonized for harmful behavior.

I am so sick and tired of everything thinking cancel culture is normal, because it is so incredibly not. Its exhausting seeing the same thing play out over and over as someone who's actually interacted with people of different ages, gender and ethnicities, and who knows what these people are like in their hearts, while also knowing the internet would eat them alive without a second thought to who they are or why they act the way they do.

People say and do problematic things, it doesn't mean they're bad people. It means they're human. I encourage everyone to remember that.

[nburkhardt]

A small follow up to this fic.

The next time the kids see him, it’s the next weekend. 

Partly because he’s still embarrassed that he broke down in front of them, said things he never meant to tell anyone.

In that time away from the eyes of his friends, Eddie’s gently pushed him into sneaking a therapist with the help of Wayne. It’s not that he never noticed how badly his parents fucked him over, but, maybe he didn’t realize it was so bad that he was actively pushing Eddie away before the metalhead shoved his way back in. 

There isn’t a lot of progress, since he only just started seeing the therapist. But he does feel a little lighter already. 

The other thing that’s really kept him away, is that Eddie and he are way too happy and in love to leave Eddie’s room some days. They don’t stay at his house and frankly, Wayne has already offered the spare room for him. Even if the older man knows he’d be staying with Eddie in his room. 

 But it’s the thought that counts. 

Currently, they’re in bed still asleep. Eddie behind Steve with an arm wrapped around his waist and their legs tangled together. Steve is facing the wall, Eddie’s face is nuzzled into his neck. They’re wrapped up in blankets and to anyone else, it doesn’t even look like there’s two people under the blankets. 

Both are still too dead to the world to hear the loud knocking on the front door or hear Wayne’s cursing as he makes his way pass Eddie’s room to see who’s knocking at this ungodly hour of seven am. “Alright, it’s seven in the goddamn morning, what the fuck-“ 

Standing on his front porch is four teenagers, the only two he recognizes is Max and Dustin. Dustin has his fist in the air, ready to hit the door again. It immediately drops, along with their mouths. “Mr. Munson! Is Eddie home?” 

Shaking his head, he steps aside. Already awake, there’s no point in stopping this. “He’s still asleep, but come in. No point in making y’all make the trip home now” 

All four make their way in and look around, he shakes his head as he makes his way into the kitchen. “You kids eat?” 

After a round of cereal for all of them and two cups of coffee for himself, he hears the first noise from Eddie’s room. If Wayne had to guess, it’s Eddie himself tripping over something. Then the door is being open, now they can clearly hear; “fuck, we gotta clean that shit up” 

Dustin shots up, “Eddie!” 

Before Wayne can even blink, there’s his nephew in just his sleep pants with a wild look on his face. “What the fuck?” 

“Glad to see you alive, jackass.” Max says with her arms crossed, while Dustin nods and points at her. The other two are just content to let the other two speak. 

While Eddie gaps at them, “what?” 

Wayne shakes his head and decides, as entertaining as it is, decides to get dressed for the day. He pats Eddie on the shoulder before making his way into his room. 

“You and Steve disappeared for a week! We still can’t find him, and the last person we know that was with him was you.” Max explains, her arms crossed and a glare on her face. “Robin told us that Steve called in sick for the whole week and admitted he hasn’t talked to her at all” 

Eddie sees concern on their faces but he also remembers Steve’s broken look and how he admitted the first night how much he regretted telling the kids what he was thinking. So, he’s not going to throw his overly sensitive boyfriend to these too headstrong teenagers. 

“He’s okay.” He tells them, “sorry for disappearing, it was a lot. He needed a break and ambushing him isn’t the way to go, I know because I did that already” 

He watches as all four of them deflate, Dustin most of all. Even Mike looks a little upset at the mention of it, which is strange to see. Max is staring at him, with a look of determination. 

“So you talked to him?”

And more, but he doesn’t want to tell them that. So he nods, “yeah, he’s okay. And will get better, trust me.”

They all nod and he lets them know he’ll talk to Steve about what just happened, but he never says that Steve is still asleep in his bed or that they were planning on picking all of them later to talk. Instead, he shoves them out the door with a threat to kill off the boys’ characters if they don’t leave and a promise to Max about buying her a new board. 

Once his front door is closed and locked, he listens for the kids bickering as they ride away before making his way back into his bedroom to find Steve rolling over, “the kids?” 

Smiling, Eddie nods and makes his way over and gets back into bed. Steve immediately resting his head on Eddie’s chest, “I heard Dustin’s shout” 

“I figured, they’re worried” He tells him, “told them not to worry or to push, we got a few hours until we surprise them” 

Four hours and a shower later, Steve is a little anxious in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, they decided that picking up all the kids and hitting up the local diner is their best option. Luckily, they only have to drive to Mike’s house. 

“No need to be worried, Stevie” Eddie drops a hand to his thigh, squeezing just a little to calm him. “They’ll understand, they’re smart kids” 

Steve knows this, he really does. But he still has that nasty voice whispering, that the kids won’t understand. That they’ll hate him for just admitting how broken he is, or that he’s dating a man. 

Eddie squeezes his thigh again, “Don’t listen to the voice, baby, it’s lying to you. Remember what your therapist said?”

His therapist coached him into a way to get away from the negative thoughts and to focus on something else. It could be anything or anyone, to look around himself, find that something else to think about.

So, he focuses on Eddie and the hand on his thigh. Thinking of Eddie is easy, always easy, because the man is incredible and so patient. He thinks back to last week, their first night as boyfriends. The whispers, promises between each other and the morning after with even softer promises. He lifts up the hand, pulling off his ring to fidget with. 

“We don’t have to tell them about us,” Eddie tells him, slowing the van in front of the Wheeler house, “Until you’re comfortable, we can keep our relationship a secret” 

He shakes his head and slips the ring on his own finger, twisting it around and misses the way Eddie is smiling at him, “I want to tell them, I’m just nervous. They’ve only ever known that I like girls, and the whole breakdown was because I was so afraid of-“ 

“Of what I’d say, right?” Eddie interrupts him, “as long as you’re comfortable, Stevie, I’m happy to tell them we’re deeply in love and they’re going to absolutely hate us with how annoying we are. I think we should just share a very passionate kiss and let them figure it out, think Dustin would get it? Or do you think Max will have to explain it?”

Steve breaks into a smile, knowing that Eddie is being a dork on purpose right now. He figured out that rambling can really help Steve out of his head and it’s a good thing Eddie can easily ramble about nearly anything, “alright dork, let’s go”

They both get out of the van and for a split second, Steve hates that he can’t reach out and fit his hand in Eddie’s. But in that same second, Eddie easily hooks an arm around Steve’s. An easier way to cling without raising eyebrows. 

Steve finds it easier to breathe with Eddie this close. 

They knock and wait for someone to open the door, Steve twisting the ring around his finger and Eddie tapping a finger against Steve’s arm. A few minutes go by before the door swings open and there’s Karen with a wide smile, “Steve! This is a surprise, who’s your friend?” 

He smiles, “This is Eddie, I’m sure Mike has mentioned him before?”

Karen nods and smiles brightly at Eddie, “He has, actually! It’s nice to meet you, come in boys. Mike and his friends are downstairs, I think Nancy is in her room if you were here to see her” 

He shakes his head, cringing at even the idea of seeing Nancy right now. “Nah, we’re here for the kids, I- we’re taking them out for lunch. If that’s ok?”

“Of course!” 

Steve leads Eddie to the stairway to the basement, before he even pushes open the door, he can hear the raised voices of excitement and just general teenagers. He takes a moment to breath before pulling Eddie closer and they take a step at a time. 

The basement noise dies down right as he steps on the last step, he looks up and finds all the teens staring at him. They all look shocked, which isn’t surprising since he went radio silent. 

“Steve!” It’s Dustin that rams straight into Steve, hands curling into fists with his shirt, “are you- are you okay now?”

The other kids are staring at him, most likely waiting for the answer. Before answering, he hugs Dustin back. Whispering an apology directly to him and only him, “I’m so sorry” 

Dustin shakes his head and pulls away, “Steve-“

He shakes his own head and fidgets with the ring, “I am so sorry for what happened, I- I was not in a good space. Not for a while. I am now,” he looks at Eddie for a second, finding an encouraging smile, “I’m okay, but I also know that what happened wasn’t good for any of you-“

It’s Max that shakes her head, “no it wasn’t but, it’s okay. We’re friends, you weren’t doing good. That’s why we were there” 

“I know that now” he says with a smile, “but um, my head didn’t think that. I’m getting better” 

They all break into smiles, even Mike, and in a blink they’re all rushing to him and hugging him. It causes him to laugh and tears to well up, he can also hear Eddie laughing and it makes him breathe easier. 

They’re all nearly out the door, twenty minutes later, when he hears Nancy’s voice. He flinches back and wonders when her shouting will ever not make him feel small. 

He stops walking, Max next to him also pausing and looking between them. Nancy comes up to them and she glances behind them, before raising an eyebrow at him. It makes him fidget with the ring. Luckily she doesn’t spot that. 

“I didn’t know you were taking them anywhere” is what Nancy says and really, he’s not surprised she goes straight to the point, “Thought you were-“

He grimaces at her vagueness, shaking his head, he straightens up “taking them out to lunch. I’ve been dealing with some issues” he freely admits it, mostly because there isn’t anything he could use for a lie. 

“Issues?” 

He nods and crosses his arms, the movement catches Nancy’s eyes and they narrow at them. Already knowing that Eddie’s ring is on display, “yeah, so, we’re going to go” 

They don’t let her get another word in, he quickly makes his way to the van and climbs in with Max following him. Nancy in the rear view mirror and Dio playing through the speakers, it makes him breathe so much easier. 

~~~

I hope this helped after I left a fic with nearly no comfort at the end of the first part lmao. It's still open just in case i wanted to add more, but for now I'm leaving it alone. Because I actually wrote this all out in one go... I just never posted this part lmao. Just so everyone knows: The boys do tell the kids about their relationship and of course they support them.

under the read more is those you commented on the original fic!

@i-less-than-three-you @artiststarme @m-chmcl-rmnc @winterbuckwild @ultimate-zuku-of-trivs @hammity-hammer @strangersteddierthings @lemonastra-side @ll-sapphos-friend-ll @itsfreakingbats @xwildangel @lunaticmarunatic @anzelsilver

[afrognamedfizzarolli]

Helluva Boss Season 2 trailer break down: Pt 4 Mastermind!

The C.H.E.R.U.B.'s and D.H.O.R.K's are back bitches!

These two shots seem to be fairly face value. The C.H.E.R.U.B.'s have been stuck on earth since we saw them last, and apparently have been spending their time trying to find I.M.P. and settle the score. They are captured by the D.H.O.R.K.S, the two realizing they have a common enemy team up.

Also notable is that the portal Blitzø is peaking his head out of is that of an Asmodian crystal. Meaning he did accept it from Stolas.

I think these four shots are a direct sequence of the crew porting back to the office after a successful hit, only for another portal that the D.H.O.R.K.S and C.H.E.R.U.B.'s have developed to be able to traverse to hell, presumably to capture the main crew.

(they are Stolas' grimore to portal in the first shot. Which is kinda weird to me if Blitzø has the crystal.)

I said previously in my post on Apology Tour that I think these two sequences are most likely in Mastermind. I believe what we are seeing is Blitzø being held, and either him having another nightmare sequence, or the D.H.O.R.K.S have somehow found a way to extract his memories, and are forcing him to re-watch some of the worst parts of his life.

Regardless as to why Blitzø is seeing these, its very interesting with a few. We were lead to believe in Oops that when the accident happened Blitzø didn't see Fizzarolli crawling towards him, the first frame suggests he did see him, but chose to still run to his moms tent to try to help her.

The next is the first time we've seen anything of Fizz during the 15 years between the accident and Ozzie's. This is almost directly directly post accident, we see Cash stopping Blitzø from going to see Fizz. Confirming the popular belief that Cash was the one to come between and lie to Blitzø and Fizz (father of the fucking year right here)

The next two frames are Blitzø's perspective of Fizzarolli and Veronika from Ozzie's.

We have another flashback, this one not seen through the screen though a screen like the others. Blitzø is crying while Tilla holds him, hes wearing the same outfit as we see him in the night of the accident. I have 3 theories on what this is.

The least likely in my opinion: This is a flashback to that night, before the accident, Blitzø confiding in her that he planned to confess to Fizz that night

This is when Tilla told him how sick she was and explaining that she probably didn't have much time left.

But my personal belief is that this is not really a flashback at all, this is a dreamlike scene where Blitzø is taken back to being a teen and sees her again. She comforts him and tells him that she is proud of how he has grown, and encourages him that he needs to work to escape and save his family from the situation they are in.

Another shots that are tricky to me, I have a strong feeling these two are connected, but not completely sure where they fit. This is honestly kinda a process of elimination guess for me.

I want to included these two clips from the Hells Belles short which reference the C.H.E.R.U.B.s episode, i assume as a hint to them coming back soon.

Again I am sorry for the shit photo quality, and possible bad grammar and spelling. I currently have the posts for the rest of the episodes nearly done so expect those in the next few hours ♡ I'd love to hear any other ideas or theories about the upcoming episodes, or anything I missed/got wrong!

Pt. 1: The Full Moon | Pt. 2 :Apology Tour | Pt. 3: Ghostfuckers | Pt. 4: Mastermind | Pt. 5: Sinsmas