#like she doesn’t have to be this soft person who’s was changed by motherhood or whatever but like she’s clearly not a monster ?

[styrof04m]

Ok but I can’t stop thinking about Agatha being pregnant for 9 months. Like can you imagine what she was thinking or even feeling. Like one she’s probably terrified that she’s gonna fuck this up. That she won’t be able to love her child. Not like she has any idea what a loving mother looks like.

But then also her thinking that maybe this will be ok. Because there’s proof she isn’t unlovable. She has the worlds biggest simp at her beck and call. Someone who has seen the the true depths of humanity. Someone who has seen every example of cruelty and mercy and has watched over every death deserved and undeserved. Has watched Agatha herself kill for nothing more than power. And yet this someone loves her truly and deeply and unconditionally. And I can’t stop thinking of Agatha being excited to share this love, of passing down something good. Being able to create rather than take.

And I can’t stop thinking of Agatha realizing something is deeply wrong. She’s supposed to be meeting her baby but instead it’s punctuated by the arrival of her love. And not to support her or hold her hand through it, instead to take. The one person who’s only ever given to Agatha is now about to take her entire world before she ever gets the chance to see what it’s even made of.

Ughhhh why couldn’t they have been more expanded on like there’s so many layers and nuances that could’ve been explored without making them the center that weren’t. Also i had more thoughts but this got long.

[rabbitechoes]

there were some really stellar albums this month, but also some ones that broke my brain. the Beth Gibbons album could end up being my album of the year though, such a beautiful record. all in all, a pretty decent month for new albums and stuff!!! also, rest in peace Steve Albini!!! to check out my thoughts on some of the songs that dropped this month click here!!! also feel free to follow me on rate your music and twitter <3

Lives Outgrown - Beth Gibbons

🥇 BEST ALBUM OF THE MONTH

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genre: chamber folk

It’s been over ten years since we’ve gotten a new full-length project featuring Beth Gibbons. The vocalist of Portishead has been relatively quiet over the last decade or so, occasionally popping up as a feature here and there. Most notably on Kendrick Lamar’s Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers where she provided a great vocal performance on the track “Mother I Sober.” Anticipation for a new Portishead album, or even a Gibbons solo work, has never not been high, but that feature sort of reignited things. Two years later, she finally announced Lives Outgrown and it immediately became one of my most anticipated records of the year. This is her debut solo album, but she comes into it with a wealth of experience. She’s been one of the most singular vocalists for decades now, her crooning is immediately recognizable as hers and hers alone. 

This also marks a departure from a lot of the trip hop, electronic, and rock stylings of Portishead, exchanged in favor of a warm chamber folk sound with other elements masterfully implemented into the mix. It provides the perfect backdrop to Gibbons’ musings on life, grief, change, and the passing of time. She’s been writing this record for over a decade and, if you weren’t aware, a lot can happen in a decade. Her writing here is beautiful, as are her vocals of course. She captures so many of those complex feelings perfectly. She doesn’t have all the answers, none of us do, but she’s using the music as a means of finding something. It’s a bit of a lofty comparison, but it reminds me of Karma by Pharoah Sanders in a way. Of course, they’re very different in sound and style, but they’re both about using music to search for something deeper. Something that may or may not be able to be found, but they’re gonna try. They’re gonna take us along for that ride and I, for one, am very grateful. 

There’s not a single wasted second on Lives Outgrown. Every moment, even the quieter ones, is rewarding. These lush, largely acoustic arrangements suck you in, as does her often drawn-out vocal delivery. She emphasizes everything just right, in a way that makes you hang onto every word that comes next. A great example is on the lead single, “Floating on a Moment.” The way she adds a little extra flair to certain words is just mesmerizing. As is the chorus which is one of the most beautiful things I’ve heard all year. Gibbons belting out “All we have is here and now” is life-affirming. Former Talk Talk drummer Lee Harris provides percussion on a number of the songs here and his contributions are so valuable. His drumming has this weighty weightlessness to it. It’s so present, but it’s also light. Not abrasive in the slightest. The way it tracks under the acoustic guitar, the soft strings, and Gibbons’ vocals on the opener “Tell Me Who You Are Today” is amazing. They’re even more present on “Burden of Life,” they’re like thunder rumbling in the distance. That track is another one of her strongest lyrical moments. It’s nostalgic, almost eerily so. She ruminates on generational love presumably as both a mother and a daughter, she’s a very private person but her own description of the record cites motherhood as one of the main themes. It reads as if she’s grieving over the loss of someone in her family or perhaps her past self. She ends the song by singing “And the times never right / When you’re losing a soul.” Whether that be her own or not, it’s an incredibly moving piece. We’re all subject to the passing of time and we change no matter if we’re ready for it or not.

“Rewind” brings some new elements to the instrumentation. It mixes some subtle Krautrock elements which are such a nice touch. “Reaching Out” expands on that even further to an almost haunting degree. Her thin, floating vocals sound like they’re all around you. Not coming from one place in particular, but circling around you. It has Gibbons proclaiming that she needs someone’s love to “Silence all [her] shame.” It’s the most vulnerable she’s been across the whole project. The next track “Oceans” has her singing “I’ll dive into the ocean / On the floor I’ll gather my pride.” It’s like she’s trying to dust herself off. “Beyond the Sun” is the biggest left-turn here musically. It’s some of the wildest instrumentation on the record with the instrumental bridge having almost this blend of Western and Flamenco music that’s so wild, yet so amazing. Her vocal delivery on the outro makes it sound like she’s on a sinking ship. Despite the gratefulness always present in her voice, it’s very chaotic. This fades into the serene sounds of the outro “Whispering Love.” It has one of those arrangements that makes you feel like you’re walking outside on a Spring day with perfect weather, colorful birds flying overhead, and the grass is the perfect shade of green. Gibbons, likewise, sounds at peace. She sings “Oh, whispering love / Come to me, when you can.” She’s not demanding anything, she’s resigned. Finding some sort of peace or hope despite the ups and downs life throws at you.

Lives Outgrown is a gorgeous, rich record that I’m still picking apart after multiple listens. It’s one of Gibbons’ finest works across her career, ranking comfortably alongside the classics she made with Portishead. It’s one of the most beautiful and moving albums of the decade thus far. Everything is just so well-crafted and perfectly arranged. I’m just absolutely spellbound by this release. It exceeded all of my expectations and more. I can see myself loving this even more over the coming months or even the next few years. This is an album that sticks with you.

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Here in the Pitch - Jessica Pratt

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: singer-songwriter, folk, brill building, bossa nova

After a 5 year absence following 2019’s Quiet Signs, Jessica Pratt has returned with Here in the Pitch and it makes a strong case for being her best record yet. The elusive singer-songwriter has such a singular sound. No one, that I’m aware of, sounds like Pratt. Other artists might use similar sounds, wispy vocals and minimal instrumentation, but no one does it the way she does. She makes very dreamy folk music. The instrumentation is vivid and precise, but her vocals are simultaneously right next to you and in the other room. Her fingerpicking guitar is at the center of it all, she’s added different splashes of instrumentation over the years, but that remains the same. Here in the Pitch is the biggest departure from that sound thus far, but it still sounds so uniquely Pratt. 

Every arrangement here is so delicate. The lead single “Life Is” is a great example of that. It makes use of mellotrons, a bass guitar, drums, and even a glockenspiel. It doesn’t sound like something you would consider grand, but compared to Pratt’s previous work it most certainly is. She sounds like an ethereal lounge singer. Another big surprise on this record is how Pratt incorporates elements from bossa nova into her sound. It’s flowing all throughout the album. From the saxophone and percussion on “Better Hate,” to the guitar playing on “Get Your Head Out,” and pretty much everything about “By Hook or by Crook,” it’s clear Pratt took heavy inspiration from the genre. A lot of it is indebted to Mauro Refosco’s tasteful percussion work across the record. I expected the vocals on the album to be great, and they are, but I was even more impressed than I thought I would be. It helps that these songs have the strongest melodies of any of Pratt’s records, but the way she delivers them is just heavenly. It’s hard to predict where she’ll go, but she gently guides you along with her. 

The song that blew me away the most was “Empire Never Knows” which is by and large a piano ballad, but it’s probably the clearest we’ve ever heard Pratt. The melody here is just sublime and she uses a backmasking effect on some of the vocals in between some of the lines in the final verse which was a big surprise. It reminds me of something from Carrie & Lowell-era Sufjan. The instrumental outro of the song is another big highlight and displays another one of the album’s strengths. She isn’t afraid to let things breathe. Despite the album not being super long, every moment feels realized to its best conclusion. The album’s closer “The Last Year” shows this as well. It sounds the most like Pratt’s previous work, shifting focus back to Pratt and her guitar. The verses end with about a minute left to the song, the rest of the runtime is Pratt harmonizing alongside the guitar and piano. Just a lovely moment, one that you just get sucked into. Despite being a little over a minute long, it feels like a lifetime in the best way possible.

It’s interesting how two of my favorite albums of the year take heavy inspiration from 60s music but put a dreamy twist on it, this album and Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee, but I’m certainly not complaining. Unlike Diamond Jubilee, Here in the Pitch is short, but sweet. It’s the biggest progression of Pratt’s sound yet and maybe the best she’s ever sounded. Everything just feels so natural, so comfortable. Excited to hear which direction she takes her sound next.

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Fearless Movement - Kamasi Washington

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: spiritual jazz, jazz fusion

Kamasi Washington has had this sort of dignified vibe to him since his sprawling triple album The Epic back in 2015. He could be the chillest guy on the face of the planet, but he just has the aura of a real “serious” musician. His music justifies it too. He’s on another level when it comes to modern jazz, one of the few newer artists in the genre who feels like a big deal. Fearless Movement is an apt title for the saxophonist’s fifth studio album. His incredible musicianship is still on display here, but greater emphasis is put on movement. These compositions feel so much more free-spirited. It’s not a massive multi-part experience like his previous two records, it’s just Washington making some damn good tracks. He describes the album, in a non-literal sense, as his “dance album” and that makes complete sense. There is a real groove to a lot of these tracks, everything feels so alive. This is also an incredibly collaborative effort. Guest musicians on the album include Parliament-Funkadelic bandleader George Clinton, Thundercat, and André 3000. They all play their parts very well, as does Washington, in making this an absolutely joyous listen.

This album is a great mix of old and new for Washington. If you’re looking for some killer spiritual jazz and jazz fusion, there is plenty here to satisfy. The opener “Lesanu” is one of the most intricate tracks in his catalog. It sounds so all-encompassing. “Dream State” has great flute contributions from André 3000. The way his flute and Washington’s saxophones pair alongside each other is just magical. “The Garden Path” was released as a single all the way back in 2022 and it still remains one of my favorite tracks of his. I loved it even more in the context of the album. The wildest moments on the album come when Washington mixes jazz with other genres like soul, rap, and funk. For your soul fix, Washington teams up with Patrice Quinn, DJ Battlecat, and Brandon Coleman for a cover of Zapp’s 1986 track ��Computer Love.” I wasn’t aware of the Zapp track, I only know Kraftwerk’s song of the same name, but the version on this album rips. For rap, “Asha the First” features some cool verses from Taj and Ras Austin, but they’re very much outshined by Thundercat’s contributions on bass and the chorus. Thundercat’s delivery of the “Now my heart is freeeeee!” line in the chorus is just so cathartic. Funk fans will be the most pleased as this album is full of infectious grooves around every corner. It’s clear he was very inspired by funk rhythms and it comes through in these pieces. Most blatantly on “Get Lit” which features vocals from George Clinton and some rap verses from D Smoke. You can hear that Washington and crew had so much fun making these songs. It’s eclectic and a bold next step for him, but it’s all anchored by the superb musicianship on display here.

The album ends, ironically, with the song entitled “Prologue.” This was the lead single to the record, and it feels like a perfect start to this new chapter of his career and a perfect ending to the record as well. It’s a great indication of what this album is all about and what to look forward to from him in the future. Washington sounds unrestrained across this project which begets some of the brightest moments in his catalog thus far. He’s ready to explore new things with his sound and Fearless Movement is a wonderful jumping-off point. 

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Night Reign - Arooj Aftab

◇ released: May 31, 2024 ◇ genre: chamber folk, chamber jazz

Night Reign is one of those albums I could never imagine playing when it’s bright outside. It’s so nocturnal as if you’re sitting on the beach at night watching the waves slowly move in and out. It’s one of those records that’s perfect for pondering. It lulls you into this meditative state as Arooj Aftab’s smooth vocals guide you along. The instrumentation also pairs wonderfully. This blend of folk and jazz makes for a mesmerizing listen. Every arrangement here is just so gorgeous. Aftab isn’t afraid to let things breathe, and let things build up to a satisfying conclusion. Very rarely does that strategy not work as intended. Like on the instrumental bridge to the opener “Aey Nehin” as the soft-plucked harp notes falter behind the plodding guitar while the upright bass adds the exact amount of depth the song calls for. Night Reign is full of stunning moments like that.

Aftab sings and occasionally writes in both Urdu and English across the record. I tried my best at translating a lot of the Urdu lyrics on the record, to inconsistent levels of success, but from what I can gather these songs are all very bittersweet. She sings as if she’s holding on to every moment, knowing that everything is fleeting, and it makes for such a compelling listen. The instrumentation, like I mentioned earlier, does the same. Like the wading arrangement on the track “Whiskey.” As she sings about being ready to fall in love with someone, every movement musically is felt. It’s one of the songs where Aftab has sole songwriting credit and it shows how vivid of a lyricist she is. One of the more intense moments on the record comes with Aftab’s collaboration with Moor Mother on the track “Bolo Na.” The arrangement here has an edge to it that a lot of the other tracks don’t have, mainly due to the song’s bassline. Moor Mothers’ intense poetry strikes a chord here as it usually tends to do. It’s an interesting mix of styles that pays off wonderfully.

This was my first Arooj Aftab album and after hearing this, I need to go back and explore her previous work. I really can’t get enough of how this album sounds in every capacity. As someone who is a sucker for some upright bass, especially, this album is like heaven to me. I’m also absolutely spellbound by Aftab’s vocals here. I couldn’t imagine anyone else over these songs. Beautiful record, please give Night Reign your full attention on a dark night or a rainy day.

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HIT ME HARD AND SOFT - Billie Eilish

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genre: alt-pop

If you’ve been keeping up with my reviews, you would know that I haven’t been very ecstatic about the current state of pop music. Maybe I’m just growing more cynical than I thought, but no album this year from a major pop star has truly grabbed me – until now. Billie Eilish has been one of the few pop stars over the last few years that you can count on. She makes music that sounds and feels like a real person made it. I believe she believes in the songs she makes. That rings true more than ever on HIT ME HARD AND SOFT. This sounds like the natural evolution of her sound. Eilish and her brother FINNEAS strip things down a bit from her last few efforts. The quirkiness of her debut and the theatricality of Happier Than Ever are toned down considerably here. Traded in favor of more organic arrangements, with some electronic elements thrown in here and there, paired with incredibly strong songwriting. 

The opener, “SKINNY,” absolutely floored me on first listen. It features some of the finest melodies I’ve heard all year and that lush chorus is chill-inducing. That bridge leading into the instrumental outro is one of the highlights of her entire discography up to this point with those gorgeous string arrangements. Amazing opener to the record, although I was worried that brilliance wouldn’t carry over to the more upbeat tunes. “LUNCH” proved me wrong very fast. That fuzzy guitar provides the perfect edge to one of Eilish’s most lovestruck cuts. This could prove to be the biggest hit on the album too, it’s just so catchy. One of the key lyrical themes on the record is Eilish’s sexuality. A subject that has been under intense scrutiny, not just by creepy old dudes and your garden-variety bigots, but also by, hopefully, well-meaning queer allies who accused Eilish multiple times of “queerbaiting.” This record is Eilish controlling her own narrative. She touches on the risks and rewards of “[opening] up the door.” as she sings on “CHIHIRO.” Also on the jubilation of falling in love like on the aforementioned “LUNCH.” As she also does, with even more elation, on the chorus of “BIRDS OF A FEATHER.” Her writing and, just as importantly, how rich these songs sound are cathartic presumably not just for Eilish, but for the listener as well.

On my initial listen to the album, the latter half let me down just a bit. “WILDFLOWER” is a nice acoustic ballad, but I didn’t find it to be one of the strongest tracks here. I still don’t, but I do love the instrumentation on it. “THE GREATEST” is a folky track that can plod along a bit, but the payoff is absolutely worth it. The bridge is one of the most explosive moments on the record as she belts out her frustrations at this unrequited love. I absolutely adore “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE.” It has one of my favorite vocal performances of hers and it has some of the strongest hooks I’ve heard all year. Then, out of nowhere, the second part of the song kicks in and she dives straight into some crazy electropop. Never would’ve expected that, but it works so well. “THE DINER” is another track that has big hit potential, but in the context of the album it falls a bit short after the crazy heights of the previous track. It’s still a good cut though.

The album ends on an incredibly high note with the song “BLUE.” It’s a gorgeous track that ties together the lyrical themes of the record and brings them to a nice conclusion. HIT ME HARD AND SOFT is a great album. It provides new layers to Eilish’s songwriting and it offers some of the most substantial music from the pop-sphere this year. There’s a beating heart to these tracks which makes them so easy to latch onto. I’ll be surprised if another major pop release this year will be as good as this.

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You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To - Knocked Loose

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genre: metalcore

Not too long ago I listened to Knocked Loose’s A Tear in the Fabric of Life EP and loved it, which was pretty surprising. Metalcore isn’t my go-to genre and whenever I do love something I hear from it, it usually isn’t immediate. I just clicked with this band right away, so I was excited to dive into this new record. You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To is amazing. It’s a nonstop barrage of dissonant guitar riffs and scorched-Earth vocals. Every song just barges into the next with little time for a reprieve unless you physically pause the music. It’s uncompromising in the best way. “Thirst” and “Piece By Piece” kick off the album in explosive fashion. I love that heavy breakdown toward the end of the latter, it’s just one of those “oh, wow” moments. “Take Me Home” is a lot more atmospheric than the other cuts here, but it doesn’t break up the album’s flow. It also has one of the darkest, heaviest instrumental outros to any track here. The only thing close to a “breather,” is the intro to the closing track “Sit & Mourn.” Even still, there’s this uneasy tension surrounding it. You know, as the rest of this record has shown you, that something crazy is about to happen so when it all finally erupts it’s just so rewarding. The band displays excellent musicianship and songwriting ability across this album. They’re masters at building tension and making you feel uneasy, not in a way that makes you want to retreat, but in a way that pulls you in. I really enjoyed this album. Not only does it make me want to dive into more of Knocked Loose’s back catalog but also more of the metalcore genre in general. It’s such an album experience, I couldn’t imagine listening to these songs outside of it. If you’re in the market for a very cohesive and relentlessly loud record, You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To is for you.

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Anniversary - Adeem the Artist

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: alt-country, americana, singer-songwriter

I’ve been on the Adeem the Artist train since 2021’s Cast-Iron Pansexual. Bad cover art aside (the vinyl one is MUCH better), it was a refreshing, intimate country album that had something to say. As was the follow-up White Trash Revelry which had a greater focus on deconstructing and analyzing the American South’s and country music’s often disgusting short-comings throughout history. It’s not an abandonment of the ship though. They love the South and they love country music. If you love something, you want it to get better. Their music is an interesting balance of introspection, personal discovery, and razor-sharp analysis of their surroundings. Anniversary is no different and while the dive into more commercial country and Americana sounds keep some of these songs from reaching their full potential, their writing is still as strong as ever. 

Anniversary is largely about love and parenthood with those occasional detours into some biting political commentary. “Nancy” is one of their finest songs. It sounds so exciting and the scandalous nature of the lyrical content comes through in the music, it’s just so playfully promiscuous. Their lyrics often have this spontaneous wordiness that makes it hard to imagine them fitting into a satisfying melody, but they usually make it work very well. “Part & Parcel,” “Rotations,” and “Night Sweats” all touch on the themes of parenthood and they made me realize that this a point of view I rarely engage with. Not out of any conceited effort, just by coincidence I guess. It was refreshing and touching. “Rotations” is easily one of the sweetest songs in their catalog with very tasteful instrumentation and a chorus that even gets me a little teary-eyed. “Night Sweats” has Adeem giving their perspective as a parent witnessing the ongoing atrocities happening in Palestine. It’s one of their finest moments as a songwriter. It sounds so immediate like they knew they had to get this message out through the music. If you’re looking for more commentary tracks like that, “Nightmare” and “White Mule, Black Man” have you covered. The former tackles religious hypocrisy over some fiery Americana and the latter is a stripped-down, powerful indictment of Knoxville’s racist history, another one of their finest moments. “One Night Stand” is a bit more lighthearted and it sounds like the queer country radio hit I didn’t know I needed. It’s also a great example of how Adeem can write really catchy songs, that hook is incredible. It uses the more commercial sound to its benefit more than any other track here. “Socialite Blues” is the craziest moment on the album as Adeem swaggers and sways all over a honky tonk anthem about being in love. I want more crazy stuff like this from them.

The instrumentation across the album, as I said earlier, leaves a little to be desired. It’s all very tasteful and well done, but a lot of it veers a bit too heavily into some of the played-out tropes of the genre. Despite that, their writing is as sharp as ever, maybe even sharper. Anniversary is another exciting release from one of my favorite country artists going today. I’m always eager to hear what Adeem does next.

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Almighty So 2 - Chief Keef

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genres: chicago drill, hardcore hip hop

A little over ten years after the original, highly influential, mixtape and after a year of pushbacks and delays, Chief Keef has finally released Almighty So 2. I can’t claim to be a Sosa connoisseur, although I do love the original Almighty So tape, but his impact on hip hop is undeniable. His music at the turn of the 2010s defined the decade. It was a precursor to many of the trends that dominated the era. He was also very young like he was 17 when “Love Sosa” dropped. As someone who hasn’t heard a lot of his work past 2013 or so, I was very curious to hear how his sound has progressed after all this time. Luckily, despite a few weaker cuts, Almighty So 2 is a pretty strong release. A “return to form” isn’t the right phrase for this album because it sort of feels like a new beginning for him. 

The intro track samples “O Fortuna” and has him rapping “ Bitch, I'm Almighty, I'll shoot you with my mighty gun” over the epic, orchestral beat. It sounds so unserious but in the best way possible. A lot of the beats on this project have that orchestral twist to them and I love it. He also sounds very aware of his influence, leading to some really funny moments. Like on “Drifting Away” where he pokes fun at Kanye, who playfully proclaimed he invented drill on his “Like That” remix, by saying “Chief Sosa made drill, Kanye think he did too” and then in the final chorus and the outro he says the song has a “Kanye ass beat.” Amid the intense rap beef over the last month or so, it’s nice just to hear more lighthearted disses. Same with the “Jesus Skit” which has him throwing shots at Drake, Chris Brown, and Vic Mensa among others. The song following, “Jesus,” is one of the most aggressive tracks here and it’s a nice change of pace. Another massive highlight here is “1,2,3” which is one of his best tracks pretty handily. It has Chief Keef doing what he does best over one of the best beats I’ve heard all year. The level of quality could be a bit more consistent across this project, but the good stuff is really good. 

“Believe” is one of the most personal tracks in his discography and it’s also my favorite track on the album. He reflects on his upbringing, fatherhood, relationships with the women in his life, and his career up to this point. It’s beautiful and poignant, a detour I wasn’t expecting on this album. Ideally, Almighty So 2 will mark a new beginning for Chief Keef. He can still make the bangers he became known for, but he’s much smarter now. Much older than he was when the original tape dropped, but he’s still so young, not even 30 yet which is crazy considering “Love Sosa” seems so long ago. I’m very hopeful that we continue to get more good music from Sosa in the years to come.

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Dark Times - Vince Staples

◇ released: May 24, 2024 ◇ genres: west coast hip hop, conscious hip hop

There’s always been a bit of a darkness to Vince Staples’ projects, but a lot of the time wacky beats and upbeat delivery offset it. He’s been progressively getting more serious album after album over the last few years. His self-titled record and RAMONA PARK BROKE MY HEART were the most introspective Staples had gotten thus far. Even still, the latter had a collab with DJ Mustard so it’s not all doom and gloom. Dark Times, if the title and cover art didn’t suggest, is Staples diving headfirst into those themes and exploring them both lyrically and through the album’s production. Staples has an incredible ear for good beats and production, see his 2016 record Big Fish Theory for the most definitive proof of that, and that’s no different on this album. That brilliance goes beyond the aforementioned wacky beats as Dark Times sounds very organic on nearly every level – it’s the most grounded Staples project by far. It sounds like the album Staples needed to make right now. A dissection of his mindset during these … dark times.

After a serene intro with birds chirping, the magnificent soulful beat of “Black&Blue” kicks in. The album cycles producers throughout, this one can be attributed to Alex Goose and Michael Ozowuru. I really do adore this beat, but what makes the track even better is Staples’ lyricism as he laments, among other things, that money doesn’t solve everything. Another interesting lyrical theme throughout the album is the idea of a heaven or a hell and how it pertains to morality. He asks in the second verse “To the Heavens above, is it a mansion for thugs? / Where did Tupac and 'em go?” The way he questions these things is through a very spiritual lens which I find interesting. He touches on it a bit more in the song “Government Cheese” as he raps “Everybody gotta die, only question, is it Hell or in the sky, yeah.” This song also features a subtle sample of the beat from “Blue Suede,” one of the biggest songs from his early years, and it’s a really nice touch thematically since the song’s main focus is on his poor upbringing in Long Beach. “Shame On The Devil” has him analyzing his romantic life and his success over the years, but those religious themes are very much present on this track. During the second verse, he reveals a very crucial aspect of the album’s themes as he claims that “only the heavens can judge” people. Staples believes he isn’t in the position of making that judgment call on what is ultimately “good” and “evil.” He wrestles with it, but he places it above him. It’s not the most satisfying conclusion to the album’s narrative, albeit a loose one, but Staples really shines as a lyricist across this project.

The rest of the record continues Staples’ reflections, introspections, and frustrations despite his successes over the years. “Étouffée” has Vince detailing his frustrations with his label and his fans, lamenting how they want “2015 Vince” back. “Justin” has a very light, floaty beat as he raps about meeting and quickly getting his heartbroken. The strongest moment on the back half of the album is “Little Homies.” It has Vince almost racing through these verses while also offering some advice to the ones that come after him. It’s shaky but in a super compelling way. That sort of applies to the whole record too. Staples doesn’t have the answers, but he has questions, thoughts, and feelings that he needed to get out on record. I would say that this makes for his best record since Big Fish Theory, but it also feels like a transitional album. Excited to hear what Staples does next.

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To All Trains - Shellac

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genres: post-hardcore, noise rock

It’s impossible for a review of To All Trains not to double as a eulogy for Steve Albini. A little over a week prior to the release of the noise rock band’s first record in 10 years, Albini passed away suddenly due to a heart attack. You can’t understate his influence on the state of not just noise rock, but rock music in general. He was a pioneer, no one was making records that sounded like his whether he was in front of the mic or behind the boards. His work with Big Black in the 80s changed noise rock forever and the band’s debut Atomizer makes a strong case for being the best record in the genre. His producing work on records like the Pixies’ Surfer Rosa, PJ Harvey’s Rid of Me, The Jesus Lizard’s Goat, and Nirvana’s In Utero significantly changed how rock music sounded. That’s just naming a few, by the way, his credits list is miles and miles long. He helped to usher out the suffocating pomp and glamor that plagued the big rock music of the 1980s. Everything sounded so real, you could hear and feel everything in his recordings. Albini was also a very controversial figure, in ways that I don’t really care to defend at all. He was an edgelord, to put it mildly. In the interest of fairness, Albini in recent years has lamented some of the things he said and did. He seemed to be in a different mindset than he was back in the '80s and early '90s, but he still stuck to his “punk ethos” pretty staunchly. He had a specific view of how records should be made and produced. For instance, he never took royalties from the albums he worked on so as not to take more money out of the artist’s pockets. Albini was a prickly character with stubborn sensibilities and, in many ways, that’s what made him one of the best to ever do it. Those qualities came through in his work all the time as well.

This leads me to this new Shellac record. The band’s first in 10 years. Admittedly, in the grand scope of Albini’s work, I’m not super familiar with Shellac. I tend to lean more towards Big Black, but that could change as I dig deeper into their albums. I only heard At Action Park soon after I heard the news of his passing and that album is brilliant. A lot of the hallmarks of Albini’s sound are present in Shellac. Those jagged rhythms that almost chastise you for listening, those weighty drums, Albini’s misanthropic and bratty vocals, it’s all here and it’s all uniquely his own. The guitar tone on this record is so nasty. It sounds like it’s smoking, about to catch fire, on the opener “Wsod.” It’s just such a gritty sound, unpleasant in the best way. One of my favorite tracks here is “Chick New Wave” which has Albini proclaiming that he is “Through with music from dudes.” It reads almost ironic when you look at who made this record, but it’s playful and it has some of the band’s best performances. I adore Todd Trainer’s drumming, on the whole record, but on this song in particular. “Wednesday” has this ominous vibe to it. Shellac’s songs don’t build or payoff in the way other songs do which makes it all the more anxiety-inducing. It’s also a great showcase for Bob Weston’s bass which sounds so gross (a compliment). “I Don’t Fear Hell” is pretty handily my favorite song on the record. The band is firing on all cylinders, their best work across the album for sure. Albini sings in what could vaguely be described as the song’s chorus “When this is over / Leap in my grave like the arms of a lover / If there's a heaven, I hope they're having fun / Cause if there’s a hell, I'm gonna know everyone.” It’s a fucking awesome way to close out your final album.   Some of the songs on To All Trains don’t leave too much of a lasting impact, but it’s easy to overlook that. Even without the context of Albini’s passing, this album sounds like old friends getting back together to make some kickass tunes one more time. There are still some strong highlights here and it feels like a fitting finale to Albini’s career overall. It’s not flashy or anything, it’s just a damn fine rock record.

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Ten Fold - Yaya Bey

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genres: neo-soul, contemporary r&b

It’s always exciting when an album has a ton of character to it and Ten Fold is one of those albums. Yaya Bey sounds so self-assured and it comes through in these short, but sweet R&B cuts. Despite being almost 40 minutes in length this album flies past you. This works both in the album's favor and against it. So many great ideas are spread across the album’s 16 tracks, but they’re gone far too soon. “crying through my teeth” opens the album with Bey’s dreamy vocals and also features a laidback rap verse from her. It shows some of her strengths very well, but again, it ends with potential left on the table. If you want to look at things from a glass-half-full perspective, you could just appreciate all the great moments here despite their brevity. From the glass-half-empty perspective, you could lament that the bulk of these songs never reach their full potential. It might be a cop-out answer, but I don’t know where I land. Ten Fold is a very nice listen and I would be the biggest liar of all time if I said I didn’t enjoy my time with it, but it also has the potential to be so much more.

Bey is the star of the show here for certain. This is her second “high-profile” project and she carries herself as if she’s a household name. Her singing has weight to it and that remains true for her occasional rap verses. Like on “sir princess bad bitch” where she just sounds so cool rapping over this light, breezy beat. Her singing on “slow dancing in the kitchen” is just a joy. It’s like the music just flows through her. Still, there’s meat left on the bone. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my favorite tracks on the record are the two that go beyond the 3-minute mark. “chasing the bus” is another sunny R&B song with a killer bassline and gorgeous vocals. “yvette’s cooking show” opens with a voice recording of a conversation she had with her father, the late Grand Daddy I.U., before shifting into her powerful vocals over a lo-fi beat. 

The voice recordings of her father appear all over the record and I only pieced together after a couple of listens that this album was, in many ways, an exploration of grief. The brief nature of these songs could make you view them as diary entries of sorts. I appreciate the concept and it makes Ten Fold a much more compelling album than I originally believed, but I still feel like the bulk of the material on this album ended before it reached a more satisfying conclusion. Of course, that’s all from a listener’s perspective. If Bey was satisfied with them, that counts for something. On the whole, it’s a good look at an incredibly talented artist bound to reach even greater heights.

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empathogen - WILLOW

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: indie rock, art pop, jazz pop

Willow Smith’s career over the last few years has been filled with numerous peaks and valleys. She shocked everyone back in 2021 with the track “transparent soul” which showed her diving head first into the pop-punk world to surprisingly great results. The album that song was featured on, lately i feel EVERYTHING, was good, but ultimately underwhelming. Then in 2022, she dropped two generational stinker collab singles with both Machine Gun Kelly and YUNGBLUD. However, she closed out the year with some more great singles that were then attached to another underwhelming album. Despite the frequent disappointments, it was obvious that she had a ton of talent. She had the potential to make a truly great album. empathogen isn’t that record, I don’t believe, but it is a massive step in the right direction.

The two singles leading up to this record had me very excited, cautiously so, but still. The lead single “symptom of life” had Willow going places she had never gone before. It sounded so weird with those crazy piano arpeggios and weird vocal harmonies. Never expected something like this from her, it’s one of her best easily and it still stands out on the record. The next single, and the album’s closer, “big feelings” (sorry i’m not doing the spaced-out letters thing) was also very good. It’s basically a straight-up jazz-rock song and I love it. The jazz influence across the entire album is really cool. “the fear is not real” is less jazzy in instrumentation, but more in the song’s structure. As is “no words 1 & 2” which is, well, a wordless track with some vocal riffing over some frenetic rhythms. Willow holds her own throughout most of the record, but I often find her to be the least interesting part of these tracks. Not really helped by the fact that some of the hooks and choruses don’t strike as hard as they should. Like on “pain for fun,” a soft-rock duet with St. Vincent, which just doesn’t match the energy of the rest of the record and ends up falling a bit flat. This album also is pretty short and I feel like some tracks sort of waste too much time. Short tracks like “ancient girl,” “down,” and “‘i know that face’” aren’t bad, but on a brief album every minute is precious and they don’t really add much. 

Despite some lulls here and there, empathogen is Willow’s boldest record to date. It’s her strongest set of material thus far and many of these songs are gonna be in rotation for me for quite a while. With some fine-tuning and further experimentation, I feel like her next album will be a big one. For now, let’s hope and pray another shitty collab single isn’t on the horizon.

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A Dream Is All We Know - The Lemon Twigs

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: pop rock, sunshine pop

I’ve always perceived The Lemon Twigs, very cynically, as one of those bands that oldhead classic rock dudes say is their favorite new band so they don’t look like a total snob who only listens to music made before 1980. The D’Addario brothers take heavily from the well of 60s psychedelic rock/pop and package them for a new era. I have to say, they’re very good at it. They clearly have a grasp of this sound and they highlight the little quirks that make the best stuff in these genres as good as they are. They’re also very talented songwriters. These are all well-written, catchy songs, especially the opener “My Golden Years.” It showcases the band’s knack for good harmonies and the bridge on this track is my favorite moment across the entire record. However, throughout the full album, I started to grow a bit tired of this sound. I can see how some would fully embrace it, but to me, it just feels a bit too gimmicky. They stick to tradition almost to a fault.

I feel like an asshole not fully loving this record because it is so whimsical. Everything is so bright and sunny, and the melodies and instrumentation are so lush and cheerful. It’s like I’m raining on their parade. There’s still a handful of songs here that I think are really good. The aforementioned great pop songwriting of “My Golden Years,” the sublime, Brian Wilson-inspired harmonies of “In the Eyes of the Girl,” and “Ember Days” sounds very much like a Simon & Garfunkel song with some baroque elements. Actually, I feel like most of these songs would all be pretty decent and fun to listen to in isolation. It’s just across the album it wears thin for me. The Twigs are excellent songwriters and musicians, that’s for sure, I just find it difficult to fully embrace them. Still, A Dream Is All We Know is definitely worth a listen.

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Stampede Vol. 1 - Orville Peck

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genres: contemporary country, country pop

Masked country star Orville Peck has released the first volume of his Stampede duets project. Unfortunately, this new EP contains some of Peck’s weakest material yet. About half of the songs here are covers. He’s a good curator, the songs he chose are good songs to cover (for the most part), but they never really reach the heights of the originals or Peck’s previous material. I was ambivalent, yet a bit appreciative, when Peck released the lead single to this EP. A cover of the Ned Sublette-penned “Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other” with Willie Nelson, whose cover of the song back in 2006 made the song gain prominence. It’s fine. All of the covers on this EP never excel beyond fine. Some fall very flat, like Peck and Elton John’s rendition of “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” a classic in the latter’s catalog, but here it sounds so much less rough around the edges. It loses so much of the charm the original had. The best cuts here are the non-covers. Like “The Hurtin’ Kind,” a duet with country group Midland, which is a sleek cut with a really solid melody. 

Stampede: Vol. 1 is pleasant enough to throw on in the background, but it doesn’t mark a big progression in Peck’s sound or artistry like I think it should. He’s coming off of two really good records and, while I’m sure this project was fun to make, Stampede doesn’t seem like the next best step for him. We’ll see if I’m proven wrong, I hope I am!

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Clancy - Twenty One Pilots

◇ released: May 24, 2024 ◇ genres: alt-pop, indie rock

I’ve never been the biggest fan of Twenty One Pilots. In fact, I actively dislike a majority of their music and yet, for some reason, I keep giving them second chances. Everything they do, even the relative bright spots in their catalog, have this overbearing layer of triteness to them. The duo is ambitious in nearly every facet of their artistry except the most important part, the music they put on record. Their last few albums, bar 2021’s Scaled and Icy, have been sprawling concept albums set in this fictional world they’ve created and dealt with themes of mental health, suicide, religion, and a whole bunch of stuff like that. It’s a cool concept and with the right execution it could make for a stellar run of albums, but even in their best moments, Twenty One Pilots never seem to nail the execution. Unfortunately, despite some decent moments, Clancy is no different. It’s not their worst effort by any means, but it might be their most infuriating. After all this time, the band still can’t help but give in to their worst instincts as songwriters and, despite some of the exciting moments on the singles leading up to the record, they stay in their comfort zone musically. I’m beginning to think these flaws are just fundamental aspects of their music.

To be a little bit more positive, the two opening tracks are some of the band’s best. “Overcompensate” has a soaring chorus and while the rap verses from Tyler Joseph don’t hit for me, a common complaint that pertains to this record and the band’s previous efforts, the positives far outweigh the negatives. That chorus has been stuck in my head for days. “Next Semester” is perhaps the best the duo has ever sounded. Upon first listen, I wasn’t too impressed. I was being a bit too cynical, but hearing it in the context of the record made it click for me. It shows them getting out of their comfort zone, and trying something different and it pays off tremendously. It’s just excellent songwriting on every level. The verses rip hard and the chorus is one of the best I’ve heard all year. Josh Dun’s drumming on this song, and the whole record, is fantastic. He’s almost too good for these songs. “Next Semester” is a blessing and a curse for Clancy because it’s far and away the best song here. No song comes close to its brilliance, painfully so. This is just me, but whenever Joseph starts rapping, I tune him out entirely. His bars are boring and his delivery is irritating. Haven’t been able to take him seriously since he delivered the line “I wasn't raised in the hood / But I know a thing or two about pain and darkness” on “Lane Boy” from the Blurryface album. So imagine how loud I audibly groaned when “Backslide” played after the band’s best moment.   The highest praise I can give to Clancy outside of those two tracks is that it’s listenable. A majority of the cuts here don’t make me want to crawl out of my own skin which is better than some of their other albums, namely Vessel. Other moments close to highlights include “Midwest Indigo,” “Navigating,” and the closer “Paladin Strait.” Apparently, this marks the end of this series of concept albums, and if there was ever a time for them to reinvent themselves, NOW is the time.

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Radical Optimism - Dua Lipa

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genre: dance-pop

Dua Lipa’s last album Future Nostalgia remains one of the finest pop albums of the decade. No shortage of great hooks, melodies, vocal performances, and production on that record – about as good as a mainstream pop album can get these days. It was the perfect slingshot to send Lipa into the stratosphere so she could reach even greater heights. It brings me great sadness to report that the follow-up Radical Optimism is anything but said greater heights. All of the great craft and star power is gone, traded in favor of painfully generic hooks and shockingly dull performances. I know Lipa has it in her to make absolute bangers, what happened here?

The songwriting here, for the most part, is pop music at its most tedious. Empty, vacuous, and grand. Despite that, the album starts off decently. I find the hook on “End of an Era” to be a bit irritating, but it’s a fine opener, especially with that funky house sound. “Houdini” and “Training Season” didn’t wow me as singles leading up to the album, but I found myself enjoying them way more here. These songs actually make her sound like one of the world’s biggest pop stars. The former is far and away the most well-crafted song here. This album’s sound is heavily indebted to Kevin Parker of Tame Impala and you can definitely hear it, his hallmarks are all over the place. His contributions are pretty good, but good production work alone does not make a good pop album. The album takes a more introspective approach to its lyrical themes towards the midway point, and that could be an interesting change of pace if these songs just weren’t so dull. “These Walls” has one of the lamest choruses I’ve heard all year, it’s so anticlimactic. The ending of the chorus where Lipa sings “Oh, if these walls could talk / They'd tell us to break up,” falls so frustratingly flat. Was there not a more creative way to convey this? Lipa’s vocals and lyricism here are just so non-specific to her. Even when the album gets a bit more sensitive, there’s nothing that makes this hers and hers alone. The weakest stretch on the album comes with the three tracks before the closer, specifically “Anything for Love” and “Maria.” They feel like such massive steps backward for her like she’s being thrown into sounds that were cliche years ago. At least the album’s closer is pretty decent, but at that point I was already too disappointed to care.

This album is competently crafted. It has good production, big choruses, and some slower moments to feign depth, but it’s all just so sterile. Assembly line pop music, Lipa is just here to get the job done.  I still herald Future Nostalgia as one of the finest pop albums in years, rife with hit singles that are still in rotation four years later.  I don’t foresee smash hits like “Levitating” or “Don’t Stop Now” anywhere on Radical Optimism and it might just be due to a lack of trying. 

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Everyone's Getting Involved: A Tribute to Talking Heads' Stop Making Sense

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genre: new wave, pop rock

To preface this review, I am a massive Talking Heads fan. I consider many of their records to be among my favorites of all time. Stop Making Sense especially, both the live album and the concert film itself, which this tribute album commemorates in dubious fashion. I had very low expectations heading into this, but I decided to give it a chance. The only singles that moved me leading up to the album were Paramore’s version of “Burning Down the House” and, surprisingly, Teezo Touchdown’s version of “Making Flippy Floppy.” The former sounds like the band actually wanted to be a part of this and the latter sticks so close to the original that I can at least fein some enjoyment. Having trudged my way through the whole thing, those really are the only two tracks that stick out. Everyone’s Getting Involved is decent at best, irritating at worst, and often just plain lifeless. Which, certainly when you’re paying tribute to one of the most frenetic bands of all time, is a crucial error.

Some of the artist/song pairings on this release are just baffling. Who in their right mind thought Kevin Abstract should cover “Once in a Lifetime?” The funniest thing is, the cover is absolutely worse than you could imagine. Abstract strips the life out of the song and waters down one of the most wild choruses in new wave history to the musical equivalent of a wet fart. It’s just a disaster on every level. As is girl in red’s version of “Girlfriend is Better” which butchers the personality present in the original. Nearly everyone here sounds asleep at the wheel. BADBADNOTGOOD and Norah Jones’ version of “This Must Be the Place” is pleasant enough, but again, it feels like no one is putting in the effort they should. Lorde’s cover of the Talking Heads’ cover of Al Green’s “Take Me to the River” just sounds awkward, just a misguided effort. I have to give some props to Miley Cyrus for her take on “Psycho Killer,” it isn’t particularly good, but she at least sounds confident in it. To put it simply, the bar on this record is incredibly low. Everyone’s Getting Involved doesn’t have the fun air a tribute album should, instead it just feels tedious and an afterthought to everyone involved in the process of putting this thing together.

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Valedictorian - ian

4202 ,71 yaM :desaeler ◇ ??? :serneg ◇

here is my review .

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psssst. i made a discord server ... if u wanna join here's the invite https://discord.gg/rsHMenTU see u there and thank u for reading :3

[blue-eye-samurai]

@ira-sairain exactly!! No one here is saying that ONLY biracial women (in this case Asian + White) are allowed to enjoy this show. We all understand that Mizu is a very relatable character who’s story + lived experiences will resonate with many different people. Having said that, though … it still doesn’t change the fact that Mizu IS canonically a biracial WOMAN.

Her gender is not “up for interpretation” in canon — it’s not an unsolved mystery by the end of season one.

Trans men are men, but Mizu is not a man. Mizu is a woman who has been forced to present as a man for most of her life and for reasons that have nothing to do with being trans masc. Plus, it’s a well known fact that women throughout history have often had to disguise themselves as men in order to survive, travel safely and be able to pursue interests that go beyond marriage and/or motherhood.

@kabutone you should be able to resonate with the lyrics of a song without erasing the original intent of the person who actually wrote the song.

People don’t actually have to be Black in order to enjoy fictional media like “Black Panther”, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for non-Black folks to decenter Black people from their own canon stories.

Can y’all try to understand that? If yes, then why is it so hard for you to understand us (women of color) and our perspectives when it comes to Mizu in Blue Eye Samurai?

Stories are not JUST stories, okay. Mizu is not merely a blank canvas for all marginalized people to project themselves onto. Can ANYONE relate to Mizu’s story? Absolutely. But that still doesn’t mean Mizu’s story is actually about everyone.

Mizu’s story was written with very clear intentions because one of the co-writers of the show is in fact a biracial Japanese woman herself (Amber Noizumi) and she obviously shaped Mizu’s story around her own lived experiences as a woman of color too.

All the creators of this show refer to Mizu mainly by she/her pronouns, so it honestly does feel deeply misogynistic (and racist as well tbh) when some people on here constantly argue that Mizu isn’t canonically a woman.

Also, not everyone who lives + presents as male or “masculine” is going to identify as a man. Assuming so invalidates the lived experiences of many people who are marginalized and that definitely includes cishet women of color.

Honestly, I can’t help but feel like many of you with this mentality online are just completely incapable of relating to women of color unless we’re either A.) performing hyper femininity like Akemi does or B.) canonically queer as well.

And that really hurts a lot, especially because as a fellow biracial (Chinese + Iberian) and multicultural woman myself (who’s not traditionally feminine either but still very much identifies as a woman), I’ve never felt more seen and heard in my life until I saw Mizu.

There aren’t many well written stories about cis women of color in general, much less ones with heroines who aren’t traditionally feminine either but who still want to be loved and secretly want a soft life.

And yeah, I’ve seen some of you argue on here that maybe Mizu doesn’t identify as a woman because she’s never been allowed to openly be one. I get that and I hear you, but I still feel it’s deeply wrong to discount Mizu’s as a woman when she gives us a very valid perspective of being a woman — particularly one who doesn’t fit into society’s racist and misogynistic ideal standards “womanhood”.

Again, we are NOT saying that ONLY women of color are allowed to like this show, but y’all should be able to resonate with Mizu without striping away the canon narrative of her story.

This thread is already long AF, so I’m just gonna end it here by quoting the lovely @kenniex2 once again:

“media as a window and a mirror. blue eye samurai is a window for y’all you are on the outside looking in”

I don’t know how some of you could watch blu eyed samurai and still debate Mizu’s gender like hello ??? media literacy dead ??? Mizu is a woman, that’s the whole fucking point !!!! That’s her biggest crime !!!

Eiji couldn’t care less about her heritage but he literally cut her off when she tried to confess her gender !!!!

Mikio was fine with her being half white but the moment she dared to show him that -as a woman- she was a greater fighter it was over. His ego was irreparably hurt because a woman defeated him !!!!

And he calls her a monster !!!! He calls her a monster because she’s a woman and she’s strong she’s capable she can fight she isn’t submissive and that’s the point !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[tommyspeakycap]

I love your John x Reader/ poppy fics. So cute. Please more of them.

keep you safe

poppy hears parents talking about what the england players faced in hungary and won’t rest until she knows john is safe

As a mother, reading your daughters face and being able to tell how she’s feeling has become one of those talents that truly only motherhood and loving a little person that much can give to a person. You notice every little change in her demeanour and you can read her emotions like no one else in the world, so you know from the moment that she meets you in the playground that she’s upset and evidently worried. Recently, John has also pointed out that which you had not noticed (partially because you didn’t even really realise you did it) but that Poppy bites her nails when worried just like you do, and she sports a frown on her face that would be adorable if it wasn’t worrying.

“Everything okay my love?” You ask softly, unclipping her seatbelt after a silent drive that would usually be filled with the little girl chatting all the way about her day and everything involved in it. She looks like she’s debating on what to say as you help her out of the car and down into the driveway. Poppy grabs hold of your hand, making it even more clear that she’s more stressed out than her little face can display. She is usually very independent, but she gets more clingy when she’s nervous.

“When is daddy coming back?” She asks innocently, staying close to your side as you walk into the house. Even as you put her Frozen Anna and Olaf backpack down and walk off to the kitchen, she follows behind you when you she would usually hurry off to greet the one year old golden retriever who is literally her very best friend in the world (after Ruben Dias, of course.) “I’m gonna pick you up early tomorrow for a treat so we can go get him up at the airport as a surprise. That sound good?” You offer in response with a smile, hoping that might ease her worries and also hoping that her worries were merely missing him and hoping for him to come home soon so she can be reminded of what it feels like to get her daddy cuddles.

“Can’t we get him today, please?” She suggests, making your heart ache a little when you turn to see her begging eyes. “Sorry baby, his plane won’t get in until tomorrow. Wanna see if we can call him tonight?” You watch her face remain crestfallen. She is clearly very desperate to see him. “Do you just miss John, or did something happen at school sweets?” You ask softly, crouching down to her level, eyes kind and motherly love seeping out of you. “Mark and James’ mummies were talking about daddy’s game last night.” She admits, little lip wobbling.

John and you had a conversation at length about the Hungary away game that would be taking place and about Poppy watching it. You both decided ultimately that it was past her bedtime and you should use that excuse to not watch it together, telling her you could watch it the next day so that you could decide if it would be suitable for her or not. You had since decided it would be best if she didn’t see that at her little age. But it seemed as though she had learned about it from clearly senseless parents in the playground.

Your nearly 5 year old daughter shouldn’t know or ever have to worry about having flares thrown at the man who has become her dad, she should never have known. But they had been stupid enough to not think about little ears around when you had gone to every length to avoid her finding out. “What did you hear baby, talk to mama.” You coo sweetly, taking her into your arms so she can explain exactly what she heard before you go and add anything that doesn’t need to be added as she lets tears roll over her soft, chubby little kid cheeks.

“They said a man throwed cups and a fire at my daddy.” She hiccups. Her tears soak your shirt, but the hurt those tears cause burns far deeper than the surface of your skin. “And did that scare you baby, or are you feeling angry?”

“Scares me because it’s dangerous mummy, but i think i am angry because that’s my daddy.” You would smile at your daughters emotional intelligence if not for the situation at half. Instead you opt to commit it to memory and remember to praise her for being so open and truthful with you about how she was feeling later on. “That’s perfectly okay to feel. You can feel both at the same time. I feel scared for him too sometimes, but the most important thing to try and remember even though you feel scared is that he’s safe.” You reassure softly, gently stroking your hand through her hair to soothe her and it really does work, because those sobs die down to hiccups and sniffles and ultimately then cease to exist.

When you went to retrieve your phone so you could call him, it felt as though the world had turned against you to see he was taking off when you read his text;

“About to take off with jp sitting next to me :/ Missing and loving you guys so much!!! Here’s a pic of me now for the Pop if she’s worried after the match - can’t wait to see your beautiful face again❤️”

And sure enough to make your heart burst sigh joy and pride for the man you had fallen in love with, the message was followed by a picture of him beaming with his thumb up with Jordan Pickford also making a stupid face for the camera. The way he thinks about how she’s going to feel, anticipates her little emotions and takes being her parent so seriously is what has truly convinced you he was the one. It isn’t enough for a man to just love and want to put effort in with you when there’s a child in the mix. It’s hard to find, but John is everything. He truly, fully and wholly loves her in the same way you do because he is her dad. It’s a cemented fact in both of their lives now. John is Poppy’s dad.

You showed her the picture that eased her nerves only ever so slightly, so she did ask to sleep in bed with you that night and you weren’t complaining even a little. She needed you and you would never deny her that comfort, especially when it’s because she is worrying about losing her dad. The most important man in her whole world and the only one that’s been around to really show her that they can be trusted and good.

But when 1:30am rolled around and neither of you seemed to be getting any sleep, you opted to go downstairs and try occupying her mind for a little by baking some hey duggee cupcakes . You were icing them together, decorating the tops of the soft cakes with Happy, Tag and Roly edible icing stickers because Poppy ate the Betty and Norrie ones while you were waiting on the cakes to bake in the oven. It was around 2am when you heard the door creak and your heart leapt into your throat, almost letting out an audible gasp of shock and then wondering why the dog could be heard at the door but not barking.

He would definitely bark if a stranger were to walk through the door especially at this hour.

Then a fluffy head of brown hair is seen around the corner, the first thing you see because he’s bent over giving the golden retriever tummy tickles as he rolls around with his tongue hanging out. John must sense your presence, because he stands up with a smile - albeit a tired and slightly confused as to why you were awake kind of smile - but a smile nonetheless until he sees you fully. You’re holding out the now clean whisk you had used to mix the cake batter and John snorts loudly.

“Don’t laugh,” you hiss quietly so as to not worry your toddler in the kitchen, “I thought you were an intruder.” You place your hand over your heart firmly, as if that would alleviate its racing nature.

“An intruder?” John echos incredulously, “What were you going to do, whisk me to death?”

“I might just.” You quip, your death stare shutting him down immediately, hands placed firmly on your hips as your patented “mum glare” came into use and silently scolded him into apologising just like his mothe used to do - she had actually kind of been the one to teach you, mentioning it would work for Poppy and then even better, it would work on John too. But you both break into smiles as he pads over to you after kicking off his shoes by the door so he can wrap you up in his arms.

“Missed you.” He hums. His words are spoken into your messy hair, tied back out of your face and probably laced with stray baking ingredients. “But why are you up?” His voice is groggy as yours probably is from his tired you both are. You’re going with the assumption he was going to surprise you by being here in the morning but it appeared as though yours and your daughters restlessness had foiled his plans. “Poppy couldn’t sleep.” You shrug. As if on cue, she barrels round the corner.

“Daddy!” She yelps, voice full of emotion, “I missed you!”

She practically flies across the room before she throws herself into his arms, making you thankful you had pulled back because the strong footballer makes an “oof” at the force of her little body slamming against his legs when he was so tired and achy from the game and a plane that no matter how much room there is, is quite frankly just never enough for his long, long legs.

“Hello little lady,” he sings, beaming as he scoops her up easily. She clings to him like a koala to a tree and you have to take a picture so you can admire this moment again later when you’re more awake and can properly admire the beauty of these ‘daddies home’ moments. “Why aren’t you and mummy in bed fast asleep eh?” He coos, seeing her already very sleepy with her head on his shoulder. She sighs, “Me and mummy were worried about you daddy a’cause those people did scary things.”

The situation dawns on John, realisation sweeping over his face as you nod to confirm what she meant. He feels horrendous. His little girl shouldn’t have to be scared for him, that’s awful. John brings you into the hug with the arm that doesn’t support Poppy, a little family huddle in the entrance hallway. “I’m right here baby, daddy is right here. l’m safe. Those people did do some bad things and we can definitely talk about that more tomorrow if you still want to, but right now it’s important that you just know i’m safe and i’m so happy to be home with you.” He explains to the little girl nuzzled into his shoulder, sandwiched between the two people who love her the most in the world and the two people who always will love her most in the world. John might not have brought her into this world with you, but from the second she was in his world, he knew she was meant to be. You and him were meant to be, the three of you were always made to be a family even if it came around a little more unconventionally than you or he might ever have expected for yourselves in the past.

“Okay daddy,” she mumbles tiredly into his shoulder, “Can we got to bed now?”

Nobody wastes any time refuting that suggestion as it glaringly clear that each one of you is completely and fully exhausted.

Poppy very very tiredly crawls into bed with you after John helped her brush her teeth and climbed in too. He pulls you over into his arms and your daughter lays nearly behind you, wrapped around your head almost like a strange cat so that she can have her hands gently stroking John’s hair just like he and you do to her when she feels ill, scared or can’t sleep. It’s clear she wants to be both hugging you and ‘comforting’ her dad, so you wouldn’t even dare to complain about the fact she’s draped over your head. Really, things couldn’t be much better. You’re in the arms of the man you love, your daughter is right there with you being the absolute sweetest little gem, the most precious little girl you could ever have imagined having, and you feel nothing but love, adoration, pure unbridled joy.

Then, her little tired voices comes seemingly out of the blue when you think she’d fallen asleep with you just on the brink of it too, John’s eyes fluttering shut when you both hear her.

“Don’t worry daddy,” she says tiredly, words muffled by her sleepiness, “I’ll keep you safe with me.”

[limerental]

I have now run into a number of folks with questions about what it is exactly that makes me love writing Yennefer as a character so dang much and there are times where answering that question feels like rattling off a list of defenses against her worst actions and qualities that people tend to dislike. So this is not that post.

I like that she is unapologetic, ambitious, and occasionally vindictive. That she will not tolerate anything less than the treatment she deserves, and that she will stoop to using methods that others would view as unethical to get what she wants/needs. I like that she does not make excuses and does not allow others to change her mind.

I like that she is not afraid of questioning authority or speaking her mind, loudly critical of priestesses and sorcerers and even goddesses alike. That she would not allow others to talk over her or for her. Given her humble past, she could have learned to shrink into the background but stepped front and center instead.

I like that she is openly sexual and dominant and likes to be in control. I like that her sexuality is not meek and quiet but that she is demanding and open about her desires and quick to tell her partner what she wants... but that in the moment with the right person, she can be gentle as well and as tender as she is able.

I like that she's stubborn and bossy and does not like to be wrong. I like that she's a bitch to those who deserve it, impatient with people who waste her time, and uses fond insults as pet names.

I like that she does not miraculously become the soft and gentle stereotype of a mother figure the moment the story requires adoptive motherhood of her. That being the main love interest of the story does not mean she demures to Geralt and has her personality skinned down to proper housewife. I like that she struggles to be vulnerable and trusting and does not really learn how.

I like that even for all those "flaws", she is loyal where it matters, fiercely protective of her loved ones, and not lacking in compassion toward innocent people, especially women and children. Almost all of her disdain, vitriol, and cynicism are directed at people in positions of power and those who wish to control or pin her down or those she assumes have that in mind. That she breaks the typical "sorceresses are vain and self-absorbed" stereotype in ways that earn her the instant favor of a goddess she doesn't even believe in.

I like her for a dozen or more reasons (some of which are just my own interpretations and headcanons rooted in who she is as a character) but mostly I do like her as a character for her many flaws. For her moral ambiguity and her struggle with traumas and her difficulty opening up to rely on and care for someone else. It's relatable to my own flaws and struggles with stubbornness and ambition and fear of vulnerability. As someone who grew up an isolated, mistreated, disabled kid, she's how I wish I could have responded to a world that fucked me over. And also a reminder to hold onto tenderness and compassion even while you hold onto your anger.

Are there ways that many of those traits can easily manifest in negative ways? Yes. Certainly. And I like that too. It's neat. It's sexy. Yennefer of Vengerberg is a bitch and I like her so much.

[teiasviago]

Hey, loaf! Based on that post from the other day, would you be up for writing something where Scully finds out she is infertile in s2?

Yeah, I can do that for you, loaf. 💓 I definitely took this prompt and ran away with it kjsdhfjsdhf. The first section fulfills the prompt but the rest leads into an AU because I decided that I don’t want to hurt my Scullybaby <3.

Branched

The doctors all agreed that once her body readjusted, her menstrual cycle would follow suit. It was irregular before due to birth control but she’s been off it since she was... Scully hates to even think the word. It’s been months since Mulder stopped looking at her as if a simple hand on her back could break her, and her menstrual cycle isn’t even irregular—she just doesn’t have one anymore.

It’s baffled all the doctor’s she’s seen. Scully writes it off as an effect of whatever experiments were done to her and accepts her doctors’ conclusions that there’s nothing to be done about it unless she’s interested in having children.

The idea hasn’t crossed her mind much, aside from a distant yearning when she’s with her godson. She always assumed that she’d have kids one day after she fell in love with the right guy. Scully doesn’t know what she wants for her future anymore. All she knows is that she wants justice, and she wants the truth—both for herself and for Mulder.

Her newfound infertility is...something. She doesn’t want more pity. If she was stifled after her—if she was stifled before, Scully can only imagine that if she tells Mulder and her family that she can’t get pregnant it’ll be worse. The—what happened to her is something she can move on from, but this is not.

—

She’s experiencing early menopause, her doctor declares. It seems so final. She cries herself to sleep and goes into work the next day as if the shards of her future haven’t been ground to dust.

Though she’d tried not to give any of this much thought, she’d somehow assumed that the chip had been inhibiting the release of her ova for an unknown reason—maybe propagation is counterintuitive to Their agenda, who knows—but to find out that she didn’t have any, that all her chances at motherhood were gone... It’s a grief unlike any other.

—

Allentown. The name sends shivers down her spine if she so much as thinks of it. Flashes of her abduction (say it say it say it, don’t let them control you, you’re stronger than the trauma) and the knowledge that all the women at the MUFON meeting had chips and fertility issues and cancer... She takes off the next day and books an appointment with an oncologist.

The scans come back negative. The women said it could take up to two years to appear, though. Scully prays to God that it never happens.

—

She’ll never be a mother. Some days it hits harder than others. Some days she wishes that she could lay her head down and wake up in a world where she and Mulder have the lives they always wanted. She feels so violated and so disrespected, some days. On those days, she lashes out at Mulder, tries to leave him and this life of lies behind, but she can’t.

He’s not someone she can just walk away from.

These are the days that she smokes. These are the days that she calls up Ellen and asks for all the gossip she’s amassed. These are the days she gets drunk over the phone with her friend and spills secrets that no one else gets to know. Trent’s turning eight, Danes. I’m infertile, El. It’s funny how the person she sees the least knows the most about what’s happened to her.

These are also the days when she hits the town and drinks until she forgets. Sometimes she’ll go home with someone for the night and leave early in the morning, Mulder on her mind. He doesn’t know. He can’t know. It would break him even though it’s not about him, even though it’s not his fucking life.

—

She wakes up to a nosebleed and prays to God that he’ll give her a few more months to live. Just until Mulder’s ready, she thinks, tears running down her face as she holds a wad of tissues to her nose. Just until he’s ready to let go. He’s been such a constant in her life, such a tether. When things get bad, they go their separate ways, but they always come back to each other and find their balance.

It makes sense for him to be the first person to see confirmation of her cancer. It feels like the final blow. First, they take away her ability to make life, and then they take away her own life. She’s made her peace with it.

Mulder hasn’t—he refuses to do so. Standing there in the hospital hallway days later, Scully lets herself love him. His lips are soft against her chapped ones and her edges feel burned and frayed, but his love keeps her together.

“I found something, Scully,” he murmurs when their kiss has faded into an embrace with her head on his chest.

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I found your ova.” There’s so much going on in that four letter sentence that it bowls her over.

“You—you did?”

“I took as many vials as I could and got them into a freezing container. I shipped them off to the Gunmen before I came here. They can keep them safe for when you get better.”

Scully’s chin starts to tremble and she presses her face into Mulder’s chest. “What if I never do?”

He cups her cheeks and gently makes her face him. “I won’t let that happen.”

She wants to believe him with all her heart. “I want to believe...” she whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek.

“Give me your fear,” he tells her, “and believe. I need you to believe.”

She nods against his chest.

—

Scully cries when she gives him the news of her remission, pulling Mulder into her embrace and showering his head with kisses and thank yous. He’s given her a second chance at life, but more than that, a chance at motherhood.

(“Dana, I have excellent news for you: your cancer is shrinking. You’re going into remission.” And then, when the shock and the joy had run their immediate courses: “It also seems that, in due time, your menstrual cycle will resume, so no worries on that end.”)

It’ll be months before she can truly start the process but she already feels lighter than ever before.

—

She waits a week after her return to work to ask him. They’re at his apartment, Scully curled against him as the movie’s credits roll. “Mulder,” she whispers, checking to see if he’s asleep.

“Hm?” He rolls his head to crack his neck.

“Will you make a baby with me?”

He looks down at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“I’ve been seeing a fertility doctor, a friend of mine. She’s examined the ova—along with several of her colleagues—and declared them viable.” Scully can’t keep the tremulous smile off her face as she gives him the news. “She said that I just have to secure a donor to begin the treatment plan. I want that donor to be you. I mean, you practically threw yourself at me in Home last year...”

She traces her finger along the back of his hand, looking away to give him some space. After a moment, he says, “You want me to...to be part of that equation?”

Scully takes a deep breath and sits up so that their faces are level, shaking her head. “I want to have kids with you.” She maneuvers one leg between his thigh and the arm of the couch so she’s straddling him, and sits down on his thighs. “I want you to be the father of my kids.”

Mulder gazes at her like a lost puppy until she reaches out to wipe away a tear trailing along his cheek. “Me?”

She nods and cups his cheeks. “You.”

He nods with her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Yeah.”

They’ve been reduced to monosyllabic words in their joy, giving up on words all together as they fade into deliriously happy teary-eyed laughter. Scully leans forward and kisses him.

—

To no one’s surprise and Bill’s chagrin, she tugs Mulder along to her family’s Christmas gathering at her brother’s place in San Diego. Emily’s existence only reaffirms their decision to do IVF together and their relationship. They’ve been more of a team than ever, and perhaps that’s what saves Emily in the end.

Mulder and Scully put off all the major changes they were planning to make in favor of giving Em time to adjust to her new life. She clings to them until she gets familiarized with everything, until “Dana” and “Mul’er” phase into “Mommy” and “Daddy”.

He learns how to make chocolate chip pancakes with his eyes half-closed at six in the morning. They both learn car seats like the back of their hands. They get used to this new life where the only reason they wake up in the middle of the night is to comfort their daughter and not board a red-eye flight for a case.

—

Scully’s known that Mulder’s a thorough person when he wants to be since they met. What she didn’t know is that he’s also extremely sappy. He kisses her frequently for no reason in the office, and his porn mag collection has been replaced by a stack of books on IVF and pregnancy and childhood developmental stages. He has a calendar tacked to the wall next to his door with all the important dates on it.

They tell Skinner about their relationship and the IVF in confidence, filling him in on all the relevant things to their decision to leave the X-Files. The department must go on, but they can’t be the ones to breath life into them with Emily and a baby. Skinner says he knows “some excellent agents” that can fill their roles.

Mulder goes with her to every appointment, even if he can only sit outside in the waiting room until he’s called in. He holds her hand during every comprehensive pregnancy test that’s done, and kisses away her tears when they come back negative.

They look at apartments together when they find the time between Emily and their new assignments, and sometime between moving in and starting Em with her new pre-school, something wonderful happens. When the test comes back positive, they both start crying at the clinic.

“Mulder...”

“Scully...”

—

“You’re really okay with passing on the torch?” she asks in bed that night once Emily’s sacked out.

He nods against her forehead, his hand on her belly. “I’ve spent my whole life looking for Samantha, but I’ve never let her move on. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s dead. Maybe I’ll never find out. But I can’t pursue the answer to the question of what happened to her at the cost of everything else. You’re the one who taught me that there’s more to life than trying to solve mysteries.”

Scully nuzzles his nose. “You taught me something, too.”

“Oh?”

“You taught me how to have the courage to believe.”

[rataltouille]

HOUSE PLANTS: NOVEL (RE)INTRO

GENRE: literary fiction.

SETTING: a small, fictional town, kingston, somewhere in the british isles. the story kicks off in 1978 and spans until the early 80s.

POV & TENSE: first-person retrospective + referral, with a character referred to as ’you’.

STAGE: drafting.

TONE: lush, soft, dreamy, naturalistic, progressively unhinged.

LOGLINE: young, gentle lilith recognises she’s being manipulated and fights for her freedom after a free-spirited newcomer shatters her perception of her world.

LITERAL LOGLINE: lawful good lilith embraces her true neutral tendencies thanks to her gay awakening while everyone gathers intense trauma.

CONTENT WARNING: manipulation [gaslighting specifically], pretty unhinged narration, mentions of death.

SYNOPSIS:

Lilith exists in a constant; call it stability, stagnation, being stuck. Her penpal is her father she’s never met, her school a home she phantoms through, and Willow, her mother, who’s somehow never there with her. Lilith may have been unknowable, but she had everything she could’ve needed.

Enter Juniper. Newcomer to their small town, exuding life, she’s everything Lilith isn’t. A chance encounter between the two sends Lilith’s perception of her spinning, because now she sees that June is lovely. She’s knowable.

And there’s of course her perfect mother, gentle and compassionate. Lilith doesn’t know what causes the ever-present discomfort in her life, but it can’t be Willow. Their symbiosis thrives the most, after all.

As time skips forward and she spends it more with Juniper, Lilith’s life splits into very different dualities; she could dare for freedom, or she could commit herself to her stability— which she learns with growing alarm is a facade— forever. And when her understanding of herself starts to distort, Lilith needs to learn to change on her own, because there’s only so far that fertilizer can take a sapling.

CHARACTERS:

lilith [she/her]: gentle & quiet. doesn’t know where her place is, a constant sense of being in the wrong. extremely in tune with nature. bad at understanding emotions.

juniper [she/her]: lively & kind. a facade of happiness, refusing to acknowledge her pain and refusing to grieve. excellent at reading others, altruistic to a fault.

willow [she/her]: withdrawn & manipulative. doesn’t have a grip on reality, unable to process her grief so she passes it onto her daughter instead. ruins lives.

marcy [she/her]: loud & loving. doesn’t understand the world, feels left out, never fully satisfied. a very specific yearning for something she doesn’t actually want. fiercely overprotective.

faun [he/him]: loyal & humorous. trying to his best to fit in, underestimates his abilities constantly. always on a search for happiness, always ready to back those he loves.

THEMES + AESTHETICS: found family, coming of age, forgive vs forget, familial bonds, the dangers of ignorance, desire to escape, manipulation, motherhood. the loneliness of adolescence, learning to find peace in the unexpected, communication with peope who feel like strangers. riding a bike on an empty road, walking through a graveyard at night, the scent of pines and a flowering garden, cold sunsets, warm rain, holding hands with the air.

AN EXCERPT: ”There’s a phantom of love everywhere, and I almost caught it sneaking around her. Even now, Juniper dozes so soundly; she’s replaced everything I wanted you to be and everything you never were. You’d know, of course. You always have.”

and that’s it! house plants is my first novel and while i don’t plan on publishing it [i’m writing this novel for myself, as a learning experience!] i’m still very proud of the story and the prose and the characters. everything about this project is tagged as house plants and you can follow monthly writing updates on this tag! also, you can find the playlist HERE. you can send me an ask / message me if you’d like to be added to the taglists or have any questions about the novel + thank you for reading!!

[daughterofzagreus]

Assigning Zodiac Signs to Greek Gods

Zeus - Sagittarius 

*sigh*, my sign. During Sag season too, LMAO.

Sag is ruled by Jupiter, which is Zeus's Roman counterpart. And it's fitting. It's the planet of expansion and good luck which relates to Zeus. He was the only one of his siblings who wasn't swallowed by his father, which makes him pretty lucky to me. Zeus is a cheating fuckboy, with a love for chasing tail that is the root cause for about 90% of all the issues and conflicts in ancient Greek mythology...that's a pretty typical Sag male move. It's no secret that Sags can be hoes (I say this with love🤗). According to the myths, Zeus was actually a pretty fun, jovial guy who loved a good party, singing, dancing and some drink (the word "jovial" comes from his Roman name Jove/Jupiter). He's impulsive and has a bad temper when angered, though. All fairly Sag tendencies.

Poseidon - Pisces

Pisces is ruled by Neptune, the Roman counterpart to Poseidon. It makes sense that the god of the Sea would be a water sign. Uncle Sy was an emotional MESS in Greek mythology, he's been described as emotionally unstable, temperamental and moody. I'm sorry Pisces but (as someone with a Pisces mother) I can definitely see it. He was quite a hoe too, so I don't know if it's just a mutable sign thing (In which case, welcome to the Hoe club, Pisces👏🏾). His moods and emotions change like the tides (like Pisces), so he's either in a very good mood or a very bad one. Apparently he was quite the sweetheart when in a good mood, as well. Although, man gets a lot of good PR from the Percy Jackson series😒.

Hades - Scorpio

Obvious Scorpio is obvious💀. Scorpio is ruled by Pluto, which is the planet of death and rebirth. Makes sense, as Hades rules over the underworld. Pluto is also Hades's Roman counterpart. Hades isn't technically an Olympian because he doesn't stay in Olympus, his kingdom is in the underworld. I think that's significant because Scorpios like to keep to themselves. The stereotype of Scorpio is that they're morbid, secretive and mysterious. Into the macabre. Kind of like an intellectual brooding, which all fits for Hades. He's not an unfair guy, though. Likely, more on the misunderstood side. I think the fact that only a few people (like his wife Persephone) understand him shows that he doesn't open up or get vulnerable easily or with just anyone. A very Scorpio trait.

Hestia - Cancer

We don't know much about Hestia's personality. She's demure, simple and rules over the hearth and home. Cancers tend to be family oriented. If not, they do have a significant relationship with their home (be that their actual house, or their hometown. Wherever "home" and the family is). The hearth is the centre of the household. It keeps the home warm and provides a place for the whole family to gather around to commune or just feel safe. So, I think that's fitting.

Hera - Virgo

Oh gosh, I can't help comparing her and Zeus's relationship to Jay-Z and Beyonce 😔. Bless her heart, that Sag man has her looking a fool. A complete fool 🤡. Anywho, Hera is beautiful and a perfectionist. Very regal, and strives to maintain perfection. Besides being the queen, Hera is also the goddess of motherhood, monogamy, family marriage, home and protector of all married, so I imagine that she's quite conservative and that (despite the fact that her family is a hot, hot mess) she likes to present the image of the perfect family, kind of like a first lady. She just brings to mind the type of wealthy lady-of-the-manor Virgo woman who runs a tight ship (i.e.: the house/the estate).

Demeter - Cancer 

I was debating on whether or not to make sis a Pisces. But, Cancer is linked to the mother and maternal instincts, which I think is fitting. Cancer is a very maternal sign (at least, there's a lot of significance with Cancer and its relationship to motherhood). The most famous myth involving Demeter is about her daughter Persephone being kidnapped by Hades, and how that affected her emotionally. Demeter is described as being very maternal, protective and kind and embodying a very specific type of love, the "mother's love". One the flip side though, she's also quite OVER-protective. She really does embody some of the more negative traits of Cancer as well such as smothering and being a bit over-bearing with her love. She also strikes me as the type to be emotionally manipulative and play the melodramatic "after all I've done for you, how could you be so cruel to your own mother😭" and "so what are you going to say at my funeral now that you've killed me😔" victim card that overbearing mothers like to use so much. But she doesn't play when it comes to her babies and loved ones.

Ares - Aries

Obvious Aries is obvious😠. Do I even need to say anything? Aries is ruled by Mars, which is Ares's Roman counter part. The planet Mars symbolizes raw masculine energy (you get words like "martial arts" from that), and so does Ares. Both Aries the sign and Ares the god are loud, quite aggressive, and they like conflict (they find it quite funny, and they can move on from it pretty quick, it doesn't really distress them). There's also the passion and explosive temper. Ares is also brave, strong and straight forward. He's also incredibly protective of those he loves. According to Greek mythology, the first murder was committed by Ares when he killed a man who raped (or tried to rape) his daughter, so don't fuck with an Aries's loved ones.

Athena - Capricorn

Capricorn is ruled by Saturn. In astrology, the moon (which rules Cancer - Capricorn's opposite compliment) is The Mother. It's soft, maternal and nurturing. Saturn is The Father. It's the planet of obstacles and boundaries and is a very harsh, stern planet. Success will come, but only after learning some very hard lessons. If the moon is like a emotional parent that coddles and nurtures their child (Cancer), then Saturn is that strict, tough parent that teaches their child (Capricorn) from day dot that the world is going to be cruel and unfair, and so they want to break you to make you stronger and prepare you for the world. That's what I get from Athena. Athena was born fully grown and fully clothed (in battle gear, at that). She literally came into the world with her guard up. She's the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy (among other things), so she's very pragmatic and somewhat cold (not cruel, but just realistic). She's Zeus's favourite child, which links to her ruling planet being The Father. She's kind of like the embodiment of the woman who works in a male dominated field (which, she does) so she has to work harder, adopt more masculine traits and develop a harder exterior in order to survive and thrive. She's not the most emotional or vulnerable person either, and it's noteworthy that she never had a childhood (again, she was born fully grown), so she's never had any of the innocence and naivete.

Artemis - Cancer

With the twins (Artemis and Apollo), Apollo is the sun while Artemis is the moon. Since Cancer is ruled by the moon, it makes sense that Artemis would be a Cancerian. This is the third time I'm bringing up Cancer being maternal, but here we are. Artemis has a close relationship with her mother (she killed this one woman's 7 daughters, because said woman was talking smack about her mother), but Artemis also acts as a foster mother for a lot of different people. She's nurturing, compassionate and protective. Artemis is the protector of young women, and women in childbirth (right after she was born, she helped her mother deliver her twin brother, Apollo). She has a group of huntresses (which any girl is allowed to join, so long as they forgo marriage) and she basically becomes like an adoptive mother towards them (she also, in general, likes to take in strays. She’s goddess of moon and hunting so she spends more time in the wild and at night, whereas Apollo spends more time in civilization in the daytime).

Apollo - Leo

Obvious leo is obvious 🦁. Leo's ruling planet is the sun, and is symbolized by a lion with a ~fabulous~ golden main. Apollo is the sun god (among other things). He drives the sun chariot every day and is always described as having long blond (or ✨golden✨) locks, a golden tan, and is just ridiculously bright and golden overall. Hence his other name being "Phoebos Apollo" (Phoebus meaning “bright”). Leo rules the 5th house, which is basically the house of having fun and being yourself, which matches Apollo. He's one of the more active and fun personalities. He's an over achiever (God of music, poetry, prophecy, archery, young men) and is considered to be the most beautiful male god on Olympus. Like most Leos, humility is not his greatest strength, to say the least. He's dramatic, loves attention and likes to stand out and be the sun (around which everything revolves), like a leo, too.

Hephaestus - Taurus

I really don't know why, and I'm exhausted from writing so much for everyone else. I really don't know which sign to put him in, but Taurus seems to match him. Mainly because he's patient and calm. He's a kind(er) soul who just minds his business and does his work. I know Taurus gets a bad rap for being "lazy", but Taurus actually are quite hard workers. They just like to work on their own terms, and usually the more "slow and steady" type (but still hard work with results). Tauruses also love beautiful things, and Hephaestus is an amazing craftsman who's created the most beautiful jewelry that's ever been made. Taurus is also a very possessive sign that is easily prone to jealousy when it comes to their romantic partner. This is exactly how Hephaestus is when it comes to his wife, Aphrodite (who frequently cheats, since she never wanted to marry him in the first place). The fact that Haphaestus STILL loves her and tries his best to prove himself to her an impress her by making all that jewelery for her (even though it's clear that she just doesn't love him, and the relationship won't ever be what he wants) is something a Taurus would do, as they are solid, committed people. Once they've decided they want to make a relationship work, they're fully committed to it. He does have a temper, but it's generally a long fuse, and he seems to function by the law of "don't start none, won't be none". Very Taurus. They mind their business and they don't start mess...but they will end it. The Taurus fuse is very long, but once it goes off...

Aphrodite - Libra

Obvious Libra is obvious😘. Libra is ruled by Venus, the Roman counterpart of Aphrodite. As the goddess of love and beauty, I don't think it's all that surprising to have Aphrodite be a Libras. Libras could flirt for their nation. They're also a bit vain, like Aphrodite, and they can be people pleasers. But, it's well intentioned. Libras are the scale because they like balance and harmony, and they generally don't care for discord or unpleasantries. Aphrodite is the mother of the goddess Harmonia (goddess of harmony) as well. The vanity also comes from their artistic love of beauty, as libra a generally a very creative sign. If the libra themselves isn't creative, they at least appreciate creativity and art.

Hermes - Gemini

Obvious Gemini is obvious. Gemini is ruled by Mercury, which is the Roman counterpart to Hermes. Gemini are multifaceted which makes sense for Hermes as he does a lot of different things. Kind of like a jack of all trades but master of none kind of deal. Hermes is one of the smartest gods in a witty, inventive and humorous way. He was Zeus's second favourite child and his favourite son, and has a more trickster vibe to him. A bit of a scam artist. Hermes is also the god of travelers and thieves. Man just has a way of charming people into liking him, which is a very Gemini trait. As the messenger for the gods, Hermes is also the god of communication (probably a bit of a gossip)...and lord knows Gemini's can talk your ear off. Hermes has a pair of sandles with wings to help with his messenger duties, so he's very fast and is all over the place, since he was so much to do and is always on the go (Gemini rules the 3rd house which is the house of, among other things, short distance travel).

Dionysus - Aquarius

The laid back stoner of the group. And a cult leader. He not only invented wine, but was also the god of substance use, ecstasy and madness. I find it hard to describe Dionysus just like I find it hard to describe Aquarius. I know that traits, but they're just too complex to be able to describe in a single sentence.​ Like Aquarius, Dionysus and his cult originally was a place where marginalized people could feel free. Sticking it to the man and whatnot, which goes with the activism and revolution that comes with Aquarius, along with the idea of paradise.

[natrogersfics]

After All - Chapter 5/5

Cover art by @faith2nyc​ Read on AO3

Natasha’s always prided herself in being a master at regulating her emotions. Years of field experience as a journalist has allowed her to hone the skill of taking a step back, drawing in a deep breath, and powering through the job. For regardless of how she personally felt about the matter at hand or how much she despised the person she was interviewing, the objective was to report the unadulterated facts. Right now, though, as she stands in Isabel’s room watching as Loki finishes suturing Isabel’s brow while Steve – who had to step in her place as Loki injected the anesthetic – holds her still, it’s as if her training cannot meet the moment.

Motherhood has transformed her in many ways, but one of the most notable changes is that she’s become a constant worrier. Some days the worry is dull, manageable – propelled by something as simple as whether or not Isabel’s had enough water to drink for the day. Nevertheless, the feeling is always underlying. But there are moments where such is its intensity that breathing becomes arduous, and in spite of the fact that Isabel’s cries have since tapered, she finds that this is one of those times.

“Okay,” Loki says in that saccharine tone she only ever hears him use when addressing Isabel. “That’s a wrap on these pesky needles.” He leans forward, tapping Isabel on the nose and eliciting a tired smile from the little girl. “Good job, Miss Isabel. My best patient without question.”

“She’s going to be okay, right?” Steve asks before she can, and she notes how tight his voice sounds as Isabel turns in his arms and snuggles into the crook of his neck.

“Yes, she will be,” Loki says without a hint of reluctance as he nods at Steve before turning to where she’s standing by the door. “Her reflexes are fine, and she isn’t exhibiting any signs of a concussion. Battle wound notwithstanding, she’s alright.”

The sigh she lets out at Loki’s words is loaded with relief. But the sensation is fleeting, replaced quickly by surprise when she hears Steve speak again. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki nods once more, a little smile on his face as he balls up the remaining gauze and sutures and throws it into the bin. “The little one should get some rest, so I’ll see myself out,” he says, rising from his seat with his kit in his hands. “I’ll check up on her again in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she says, stealing a glance to where Steve is rocking Isabel to sleep before stepping out into the hall.

The living room is empty as they make it out, and as she and Loki silently walk towards the direction of her foyer, she catches sight of the note on her dining table with T’Challa’s familiar handwriting. While she feels terribly about having ruined their Christmas Eve, a part of her is glad that she does not have to face them too right at this moment. She lets out a sigh for what seems to be the millionth time in the last hour, turning back to Loki just as they reach her front door.

“Quite an evening, huh?” Loki says, smirking.

In spite of his attempt at humor, she finds that she can only look down. “Loki…” she says. “I-”

“She’s going to be okay, Nat,” Loki says, placing a hand on her arm.

“No, I know.” She looks up at him to find his eyebrows knitted together in question. “I trust you,” she says in clarification. “I trust your assessment. What I meant to say is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for tonight and for how Steve acted when you were just trying to help. I don’t know what happened.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Loki chuckles quietly, a soft smile forming on his lips when she only stares blankly at him in response. “Is this love, Miss Romanoff?” he asks. “Because it sure looks a lot like it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, practically scoffing. Loki arches a brow at her, and she sighs. “If tonight's any indication-”

“If tonight's any indication, it’s that there’s obviously a lot that’s been left unsaid,” Loki finishes, shaking his head. “Natasha, my darling, forgive me if I sound like a broken record at this point. But you’re truly one of the brightest people I have had the pleasure of knowing, rivaling perhaps only my own mother for the top spot, so I know it’s only a matter of time.” He reaches to cup her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Open your eyes and listen. For all our sakes.”

“Loki…” she whispers, holding his gaze.

With a smile, Loki leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Nat.”

“Merry Christmas,” she repeats, mustering a smile as he turns and leaves.

As the door closes behind him, she pads back to the living room, making it as far as the couch until her legs feel too heavy to make it a step further. She sits down, putting her head in her hands as her shoulders sag with fatigue from the last few days. How a night that started out on such a high note devolved so quickly, she can’t begin to process. But if she knows one thing, it’s that she can’t take much more of this.

“Natasha.”

She looks up at the sound of her name to see Steve standing where the hallway and the living room meet. “Is she asleep?” 

“Yes,” he says, moving closer to her. “Nat-”

“Do you know that Izzie has trouble sleeping?” she interrupts, rising to her feet to see him stopped in his tracks. He blinks in surprise, and she nods. “Yeah, there are nights when she’s practically inconsolable… That is until I play her a video with the two of you.” She chuckles humorlessly. “At first I thought it was just a coincidence. And admittedly, there’s a tiny part of me that was wishing that maybe by the time I cave and reach for my phone, that she’s already tired herself out enough to go to sleep. But then I realized that she hasn’t had an episode since you arrived.” She sighs, looking him right in the eyes. “She’s your daughter. I know that. God, if I don’t see that in every little thing she does, every single day. And if there’s ever a time that I made you feel like that wasn’t the case, I am so deeply sorry. That was never my intention. But this?” She shakes her head. “I’m incredibly exhausted, Steve. And not just from tonight. All these years, all I’ve been doing is adjusting to what you want-”

“Excuse me?” he practically spits out, his eyes wide. “What I want?”

“Yes, what you want!” she volleys back bitterly. “You wanted a no-strings-attached arrangement, you got it. Wanted in on our daughter’s life? Check. You wanted to come here for Christmas? I said fine.” She straightens her shoulders, raising her chin. “So, tell me, Steve. What exactly is your problem this time? Because I want this to work, but I am at the end of my rope here.” She sighs, her voice falling to a whisper. “I have nothing left to give you.”

“Nothing left to give me,” he mouths the words, incredulous. “Natasha, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to give me a chance!”

She scoffs. “You’ve had several years’ worth of chances to take, Steve, and I’ve been waiting just as long for even the faintest sign that you wanted one!”

“How was I supposed to know that when all you do is walk away?” he challenges. His words bring her to a pause, and as she stands frozen in place, all she can do is blink. He sighs. “Natasha, I thought everything was going well until that morning in my apartment-”

“Don’t you dare!” she says, throwing her hands out in frustration as she cuts him off. “I woke up to find your ex-fiancée thanking you for selling her back the house you bought together. The very same house that you told me you saw yourself raising a family in. What did you want me to do? Wait around for you to break the news to me when it was clearly standing right at your front door?”

“I wanted you to let me explain!” he says. “Because if you did, then I would have told you that I didn’t sell the house back to Sharon because I didn’t love you and didn’t see a life with you. I did it because I did!” He pauses, sucking in a breath to compose himself. “I didn’t want us to start a life together in a place that I wanted for all the wrong reasons.” He shrugs, defeated. “But then you were serving me a custody agreement so fast my head spun, and then there you were taking the job here before I even had time to recover.”

“I asked you if I had a reason to stay,” she says quietly.

“You did,” he concedes with a nod. “And I should have been brave enough to tell you that you did.” He sighs. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Because you’ve moved on.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Moved on?”

“Yeah, Nat,” he says. “And you’re damn good at it, too. All you keep doing is moving on, it seems. You’re over me, over us, over New York. And then you’re here, moving on with him-”

“Wait, what?” she interjects.

“Loki,” he says simply, exasperation seeping into his tone. “Look, I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting, but- are you laughing?” His head tilts to the side, and as her laughter escalates, he looks at her like she’s lost her mind. “You’re laughing right now?”

“That’s what this is about?” she says, nearly breathless. “That’s the reason you’ve been acting like a crazy person these last two days?”

“I…” he trails, his forehead wrinkling. “Nat, he has a key to your flat, he’s in your kitchen... He calls you darling.” He scoffs. “I mean, Izzie practically rushes into his arms every time she sees him! And I don’t know how far into your relationship you two are- I mean, I can assume, I suppose. But even if he hasn’t told you, as the world’s leading expert on what it’s like to be in love with you, I’m telling you right now that he is.” His eyes are full of sincerity as he looks at her. “You’re you, Nat. It’s outrageously hard not to love you. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

The fog clears, taking with it all the questions and the doubt that’s plagued her in the last couple of years almost instantly as she stares at him and takes in his words. “Okay,” she says, chuckling as she rubs the back of her neck. “Steve, I’m alone. A lot. Yes, I have Izzie. But after a while, there’s only so much you can talk to a toddler about.” She pauses, and he nods silently in agreement. “And quite frankly, between parenting and working, I don’t get around much, so I don’t have that many friends here. T’Challa? Nakia? They’re out of town, travelling for the paper, as they should be. I see Pepper, what? Once a month if we’re lucky?” She sighs. “Loki’s the only person I can talk to these days because he lives next door and works weird hours. Heck, the only reason we even started talking was because I saw that he liked the same wine and I found out that we agree that men can be the absolute worst-”

“Natasha, I get it,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “And I’m so glad you’ve had someone to talk to. That you’ve found a confidante-”

“Yeah…” she says, raising a brow. “Because it really gets rough out here when men only seem to break our” – she makes sure to emphasize the last word, watching his reaction carefully – “hearts.”

“Right, I know,” he says. “He put you back together when all I did was hurt you. And while I’m devastated to have missed out on the chance to be with you, because I am still, and have always been insanely in love with you, I really do get it. I do. Loki’s a great guy. He’s dreamy, and for crying out loud, he saves babies! And fig loves him. I know that. I’ve accepted it. And the accent…”

“For God’s sake, Rogers,” she mutters, crossing the distance between them. He’s still ranting when she makes it to him, cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down to her. He groans in surprise when her lips meet his, but just as he begins to respond to her kiss, she pulls away. “Loki’s gay, Steve.” 

For a moment, he only stares at her, lust and confusion swirling in his blue orbs all at once. “Oh…” he says, blinking. His brows furrow as he parts his lips as if to say something, only to press them back into a line. “Oh.”

She bites back a smile. “Yeah… the guy he was seeing broke up with him around the same time Izzie and I moved here.”

“Well, that guy’s dumb…” he mumbles, cringing as he adds, “not unlike me.” His eyes are wide as he turns to her, his expression sheepish. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because that’s not really my information to share,” she points out, to which he nods in concession. “Plus, how was I supposed to know that you wanted to be together too?”

“Too?” he clarifies. “So, I’m not too late?”

“Oh, my God,” she says indignantly. She steps closer to him once more, clutching the collar of his sweater in her hands as she looks right into his eyes. “I am still, and have always been, insanely in love with you too, you big oaf! I-”

Her words are cut off when he lowers his head to slant his lips over hers, his hands falling to her hips to pull her flush to him. Whereas their first kiss had been chaste, this one is hungry, needy – quickly growing teeth and making her head spin in no time at all when she tastes the combination of wine and something wholly and distinctly Steve. She snakes her arms around his neck, rising onto the tips of her toes to card her fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. He moans her name longingly at that, and she smiles at the way his lips chase hers when she pulls away momentarily, a teasing comment already making its way to the tip of her tongue. But before she can say it, he bends at the knees, scooping her into his arms as he captures her lips in another searing kiss. Then like a practiced dance, she wraps her legs around his waist, letting him walk them down the hall and into her bedroom.

The second he walks in, she sets her feet down, placing her hands flat on his chest and pushing him towards the bed. He falls back onto it, a laugh escaping him as he bounces slightly, but it lasts but a second as she straddles his lap and her lips find his again.

“Natasha,” he says breathlessly between kisses, his hands covering hers as they find their way under his sweater. “Nat, wait-”

“It’s fine,” she says, guiding his hand up her arm and pressing down to let him feel where her implant is as she continues to kiss a trail down his jaw and to his neck. “I’m safe, and there hasn’t been anyone since you.”

The groan he lets out in response is almost pained, and she gasps in surprise when he flips them over, his pupils blown wide as he stares down at her. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Me?” she asks, flummoxed. “You’re the one flying here, showing up in your stupid leather jacket and then parading around my flat without a shirt on!” Her eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea how many cold showers I’ve taken in the last few days?”

His mouth twists into an amused grin. “I told you, Izzie ruined my shirt,” he says, reaching up to brush the hair out of her eyes. “And for the record, there hasn’t been anyone since you, either.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asks, desperation slipping into her tone as she squirms underneath him. “Less talking, more stripping!”

He chuckles, and in spite of her patience waning, she finds herself grinning at the sound. “You, Natasha Romanoff, would test the patience of a saint.”

“Did you get canonized recently or something?” she asks, huffing out a breath when he rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. “And you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He shakes his head. “How much I want you.” Even as his eyes have grown dark and stormy, the pining in them is as clear as day, making the blood sing in her veins. “But I don’t want to rush this, Nat. I want to start over. I want-” He pauses, taking in a deep breath. “I need to get this right.”

“But it is right.” She moves to sit up, prompting him to sit back on his knees. “Steve, I thought that everything that happened between us was proof that we were a mistake, that everything I’ve been holding onto was a lie.” He looks down at his lap, his expression twisting as if he’s reliving the pain of the last couple of years all over again. “Hey, look at me,” she says, reaching over to hook a finger under his chin, tilting his head up. “I was wrong.” She shakes her head. “The last twenty-four hours notwithstanding, I haven’t been as happy as I’ve been these last few days in a long, long time. I won’t speak for you, but-”

“It’s the same for me,” he interrupts without a trace of hesitation in his voice, holding her gaze. “Exactly the same, Nat.”

She smiles. “Then if there’s something I know for sure now, it’s that you, me… fig. It’s right. It’s always been right.” She sighs, running her thumb over his jawline. “I love you, Steve. I want to be with you. So please, no more waiting. No more wasting time.”

It takes a beat, but then he’s surging forward to kiss her, pushing her onto her back once more as her arms wrap around his neck. “I love you,” he whispers against her lips. “I love you so damn much.”

“Then show me,” she says, smiling when with a groan, he pulls away and lets his hands trail to the hem of her blouse, pulling it up and off of her. She leans up on her elbows as he sits back again, letting her gaze trail hungrily down his chest and to the smooth planes of his stomach as he reaches behind him to rid himself of his sweater.

“See something you like?” he asks, smirking when he catches her staring.

She peers up at him from underneath her lashes. “More like something I need.”

“Good,” he says, causing the breath to get caught in her throat at the way his eyes flash. “So do I.”

He brings his lips back to hers, reaching behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, and she slides it off her arms when it comes loose around her before throwing it unceremoniously to the floor. Gently, he pushes her shoulder, guiding her back down as he peppers kisses down the column of her throat and lets his hands wander over her torso. He cups the swell of her breast, ghosting a thumb over her nipple, and she feels him smile against her skin at the gasp that slips from her lips.

“Steve.” She sighs his name brokenly when his mouth moves from her neck to her sternum, worshipping every inch of skin it finds in its trail. It’s when his lips hover past her navel, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her leggings that she places her hands over his, keeping them in place.

He moves back up her body to look her in the eyes. “Let me,” he says the same time she tells him he does not have to, and as she blinks up at him, chest heaving, he smiles softly. “Can I, Nat?”

There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way he asks the question, as if he needs this – craves this – and despite how much she aches to feel him against her, to have his skin against hers, when she takes in the unadulterated desire in his eyes, she finds herself powerless to do anything but nod. She lets go of his hands, biting her lip in anticipation as he moves back down her body. Cool air skims over her newly exposed skin as he pulls her leggings down along with her panties, making her shiver as her heart picks up in her chest, and she gasps when he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, propping one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Steve,” she moans loudly – wantonly – into the darkness of the room when he licks up her center. Her head falls to the side, her hands scrambling for purchase on the duvet as a litany of curses slip from her lips, and that’s all he needs to hear to bring his hands to her waist, holding her still as he flicks his tongue against her bundle of nerves. The sensation that pulses through her is almost too much too fast, but her body craves it all the same, and she bites her lip to keep from laughing out. It’s pathetic that he has her teetering off the edge this quickly, this suddenly, but at the same time, she’s not surprised. He learned her body long ago, and she’s infinitely glad that in spite of the time that’s passed since they’ve last been together like this, he still knows it like the back of his hand. It’s when he pushes two fingers into her, curling them as they work in tandem with his tongue that she finally keens, her vision a white-hot blur as she calls out his name.

“Hi,” he whispers when she finally opens her eyes moments later, her heart still ringing in her ears. “You still with me?” His lips turn up in a boyish smile when she nods. “Good.”

He pulls away from her, and despite her first orgasm still coursing hotly through her veins, she whines at the loss of contact. “Steve.”

“I’m here, Nat,” he says, returning to bracket her body with his own after making short work of his pants. When she attempts to pull him down to her, he chuckles. “Remind me again where Izzie got her impatience from?”

“Want you,” she says, ignoring his quip and not caring one bit about how desperate her tone has gotten. “Want you now.” He smiles, but it’s quickly replaced by a groan when she reaches between them, wrapping a hand around his length.

“Fuck,” he all but growls, his eyes slamming shut as she begins to pump her hand up and then down. “Natasha.” 

“Please,” she says, her breath hot against his ear, and that’s all she has to say to make him shift his weight onto his forearms as she guides him to her entrance, hissing when he brushes up against her. A gasp falls from her lips, her toes curling into the sheets as he begins to sink into her, inch by inch, and it isn’t until he’s bottomed out that she realizes how much she’s missed this feeling – how much she’s missed him. He leans down, brushing her lips with his own, and making her crave the friction that much more. “Steve,” she calls out, digging her nails into his back. He looks down at her, his jaw clenched, and only then does it dawn on her that he’s stilled for her benefit. “It’s okay,” she promises as his eyes search hers for affirmation. She smiles. “Move, baby.”

With a nod, he begins to roll his hips, drawing out a mewl from her as his lips find her collarbone. She knows there’ll be marks tomorrow, but she can’t bring herself to care. The lazy snap of his hips coupled with the warmth of his mouth on her skin as he nips and teases is addictive, dizzying, and she wants more. She needs more. With that, she wraps her legs around his waist, pushing the heels of her feet into his lower back, encouraging him to go deeper, faster. He groans, the last of his restraint seemingly crumbling when he intertwines their fingers and pins their hands above her head, picking up the pace and making her gasp at the delicious shift in angle.

Pleasure curls in her gut in no time at all, coiling tightly, and it isn’t until he’s shushing her gently that she realizes her moans have grown louder. “I’ve got you,” he says, whispering the words and other sweet nothings into her lips again and again. “I’ve got you, Nat. With me, okay?”

She manages a nod, catching the smile that forms on his lips. And then he’s slipping a hand down between them, making her back bow off the mattress as he thumbs at her bundle of nerves. Her belly clenches as pleasure pulses rapidly through every synapse, every nerve, and though she could feel it coming, a surprised gasp still slips from her lips when her orgasm washes over her, stealing the air right out of her lungs. He kisses her as she tumbles over the edge, pushing into her once, twice, and then with a grunt, he goes still, following her right into the abyss.

Quiet settles over them, their labored breathing the only sound as they come down from their highs. Her body hasn’t completely stopped trembling when he pulls out of her, eliciting a whimper from her as he brushes against her still sensitive flesh, and he kisses her temple consolingly as he shifts onto his back and pulls her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says later on when their breathing comes back to normal. She lifts her head off his chest to look at him, her eyebrows knitting when she finds his eyes filled with contrition. He sighs. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you… for us, sooner.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “We’ve both made mistakes.” She reaches up to push the hair out of his forehead. “I’m sorry for assuming… well, everything. And for not giving you a chance to explain.”

He takes her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist. “Any chance there’s still one in those years’ worth of chances that’s still up for grabs?”

She smiles. “I think so.”  

She’s warm. That’s the first thing that comes to Natasha’s mind when she stirs awake, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the pale morning light. But as her vision focuses, she realizes the warmth she’s feeling has less to do with the comforter she’s cocooned in and more with the arm draped over her waist. She turns to her other side to see Steve, his outrageously long lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he sleeps, and as memories of the last few hours come flooding back to her, she smiles.

It was past midnight when they finally found the wherewithal to clean the remnants of the feast she prepared, sharing a plate of leftovers and a few glasses of wine as they transferred the food into containers and loaded the dishwasher. They’d even gotten around to wrapping the last of Isabel’s Christmas presents, laying them neatly under the tree before finding themselves a tangled mess of limbs on her bed again, taking their sweet time this time around to get reacquainted with one another. After, they’d spent the rest of the night talking, laughing, and though they’d spent many nights like this in the past, this time felt significantly different. They still had so much to discuss, but with all their cards on the table, it’s as if their conversations – their plans – finally had a shot at permanence, a chance to become reality, and it would be a lie to say that the idea didn’t make her heart absolutely sing.  

“You’re staring.”

Steve’s voice interrupts her musing, and she chuckles when she looks to find his eyes already open. “Some people find that romantic, you know.”

“In movies, maybe,” he says through a yawn. “But in real life, it’s just creepy.” She glares at him, giving his chest a shove, and he grins sleepily as he pulls her in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Natasha Romanoff.”

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers back, beaming.

He brings a hand to her hip, rubbing circles into her skin with his thumb. “You okay?”

The question causes her to bite her lip, stifling a smirk. It’s not as if last night was their first time – one need not look further than their daughter sleeping down the hall for proof – and yet, it was such a Steve thing to ask. She smiles. “Never better.”

Had it been any other morning, she might have called him out on the smug smile that crosses his lips, but she decides that today, she’ll let him have it. “So, tell me,” he says. “At what point in the last six months did you become a morning person?”

“It’s cute that you think your daughter let me have a say in the matter,” she deadpans, reaching up to cup his face and letting out a contented sigh. “And I’m just happy.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling her over him until she’s straddling his hips. “How happy?”

“I think…” she says, biting her lip as she leans down to whisper in his ear, “I’d rather show you than tell you.” He raises a curious brow at her as she pulls away, watching her carefully as she kisses her way down his neck, and she smiles when she feels his skin prickle under her lips.

“Hi!”

They both freeze at the greeting, sharing a wide-eyed stare with each other before turning to see Isabel watching them by the doorway, her stuffed Corgi in hand. “Oh, my God, Izzie,” she says, quickly grabbing her robe that’s dangling on the bedpost and wrapping it around herself. She hops off the bed, managing to throw Steve his boxers before she makes it to Isabel, bending down to pick her up. “How did you get out of your crib, babe?”

Isabel’s only response is to laugh, waving over her shoulder. “Hi, Dada!”

She turns just as Steve emerges from under the comforter. “Hi, fig.”

“You good over there?” she asks, biting back a smile.

He shoots her a withering look as she makes her way back to the bed. “Come here, you little escape artist,” he says, reaching for Isabel and making her giggle as he smothers her with kisses. “What did we say about climbing things?”

“Pwe-sents!” Isabel says, smiling widely.

He chuckles, turning to her just as she settles down next to him, leaning back against the headboard. “Do you want to have breakfast first?”

“No,” Isabel answers before she can get a word in, prompting them both to shake their head in amusement.

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s kind of the boss around here” she says, smirking.

He laughs. “Presents it is.”

The floor of her living room is a sea of torn up wrapper and discarded ribbon, but as she brings her mug of hot chocolate to her lips, she finds that she couldn’t care less about the sprawling mess as she watches Steve help Isabel rip open her presents. For her part, she’s dutifully played photographer, cataloguing Isabel’s reaction to each gift – as requested by the competitive bunch of aunts, uncles, and grandparents all hellbent on one-upping each other.

“Last one, Iz,” Steve says, handing her a rectangular box.

“What is it?” she prompts excitedly as she puts her mug down to hold the camera back up, capturing the moment Isabel gets the last of the wrapper off and pulls the item out.

“Hat!” Isabel says, turning in Steve’s lap to show him.

“Close,” Steve says, nearly chuckling at the way Isabel’s brows furrow in dismay at his response. “It’s called a beanie. Though it’s just not any other beanie.” He looks her way as he adds, “It’s a beanie uncle Buck chose.”

The laugh slips freely from her lips. “Oh no!”

“Oh yes,” he confirms, his fingers feeling for something in the fabric. “Tada!”

“Wow!” Isabel exclaims, her big blue eyes filling with elation as the antlers on the Reindeer beanie light up, the array of colorful lights twinkling brightly. “Am-a-zing!”

“You hear that?” Steve asks, shooting her a smile. “It’s am-a-zing!” He turns to Isabel, pointing at the camera. “Say, thank you, Uncle Buck.”

“Thanks Buck!” Isabel says.

She chuckles as she cuts the video and rises to her feet. “I hope you still think it’s am-a-zing when she wants to go out in public with that thing,” she tells him in a sing-song voice as she opens up a trash bag and begins to collect the discarded wrapper.

“You mock the beanie now,” he says, standing when Isabel runs off to play with her new mountain of toys. “But when she runs off and the lights make her easy to spot, you might be singing a different tune.”

“The faith you have in our daughter keeping something on her head for more than five minutes is inspirational,” she says, turning to see him grab more wrapper off the floor. “Truly, it is.” She laughs as he rolls his eyes, slipping the bunch he has in his hand into the bag she’s holding as he comes to stand in front of her. “Is that everything?”

“As far as the wrapper’s concerned, yes,” he says, smiling as he produces a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “But you still haven’t opened this.”

Her eyebrows furrow as she takes the paper from him. “Who’s this from?”

“Me,” he says simply.

“Steve.” His name falls from her lips like a chastisement, and she can only sigh when his response is to encourage her to open it. “Well, now I feel bad,” she says as her fingers work to unfold the paper. “I got you that gift from the aquarium to be funny and then you got me that book, and now…” Her words trail off as she opens the paper all the way, her eyes scanning over what’s scrawled out on it:

Will you go out on a date with me?

“I meant what I said about starting over,” he says when she looks up. “Or, at least, doing the parts we skipped.” His lips twist into a smile. “And I figured since contracts seem to be our thing, maybe you’d say yes if I asked you in writing.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asks even as her lips turn up in amusement.

“I’m completely serious,” he says, shrugging at the incredulous stare she sends his way. “We could get dressed up, go to dinner and a movie…” He wiggles his eyebrows as he adds, “maybe even make out in the back of the theater.” She snorts at that last bit, and he smiles. “What do you say?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” she says, her expression growing serious. “But Steve, usually, a guy asks a girl out before she has his baby.”

When she smiles, he throws his head back, laughing. “Okay, well, usually a girl agrees to go out with a guy before she asks him to have a baby with her, so I guess we’re not really into chronology here.” He smirks as she narrows his eyes playfully at him. “Besides, your manufactured indignation would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t practically jump my bones last night.” 

She gasps at that, stealing a quick glance over at Isabel to make sure she’s not listening before looking back at him, lowering her voice. “Oh, fuck you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, a glint in his eyes as he pulls her to him. “Is that not what you were doing last night?”

“Whatever,” she says, unable to keep a smile from forming on her lips. “Fine. Yes, I will go out on a date with you.” His eyes light up at that, and she holds a finger up. “But if you give me another note at the end asking me to go steady, I’m leaving.”

He beams. “Yes, ma’am.”                                                                                    

She rises to the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck as his mouth finds hers for what feels like the millionth time this morning. The taste of his lips mingled with the hot chocolate they were sipping on is a heavy combination, and she lets out a happy sigh into their kiss when his hands curl around her waist, his thumb brushing against the patch of skin left exposed between her shirt and her pajamas. She nips at his bottom lip, making him groan, and it’s only when they hear someone clearing their throat that they pull away and she moves to look behind Steve.

“Sorry,” Loki says from where he leans by the doorway of her living room, his arms crossed over his chest as he grins from ear to ear. “I only came to check on the little one. I swear I knocked, but um…” 

She bites her bottom lip just as Steve turns as well, but before she can say anything, Isabel is already up and running. “Yo-ki!”

“Well, hello there,” Loki says, picking Isabel up. “Someone’s chipper on this Christmas morning, I see. I’ve come to check on your stitches, which I tried to tell your Mum and Dad” – he turns back to them, smirking – “but they were busy.”

“Stitches, right,” she says a little too loudly, pointing towards the couch to hide her blush. “After you, Doc.” 

Loki asks them a few of routine questions about Isabel as he sets his medical kit down on the coffee table, and as she and Steve take turns answering them and sharing their observations, she realizes that it’s nice to know that someone else was quietly sharing her worries throughout the night, picking up on the little things she was finding as well. They go silent as Loki begins to examine Isabel, checking her reflexes and changing the bandage covering her stitches.

“Okay,” Loki says, finally breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them. “This sweetheart is free to play with all her Christmas goodies.” 

“Yeah?” she says. “Everything looks good?”

“Everything’s just splendid,” Loki says, turning to her and Steve as he helps Isabel off the couch. He drops the flashlight into his kit, zipping it up. “She’s not exhibiting any signs of a concussion and her stitches are healing up well and should dissolve on their own fairly soon.”

“Thank God,” Steve says, relief thick in his voice, and she finds herself nodding along to the sentiment.

“Thank you for coming to check on her,” she tells Loki, who only smiles in return. “I owe you one.”

“As do I,” Steve adds. “Any chance we could start the repayment with some breakfast?”

“I appreciate the offer, but actually the reason I came by early is because I’m on my way to my mother’s,” Loki says, smiling as he nods towards the both of them. “It’s nice to see you two have patched things up, though.”

“Yeah, about that,” Steve says. “Loki, I’m sorry for my behavior last night. There’s no excuse. I was an ass.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” Loki says, waving off his apology.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s not. I-”

“He thought you and I were together,” she blurts out suddenly, smiling when Steve’s eyes widen, a sheepish expression breaking out on his face. 

“Well, that explains a lot,” Loki says, grinning graciously as his gaze goes from her to Steve. “In any case, I’m flattered that you’d consider me a worthy adversary.”

She smirks. “He also thinks you’re dreamy.”

“Does he now?” Loki asks, clearly amused.

“And on that note,” Steve says, turning to glare at her. “I think I hear our daughter calling.”

She and Loki snicker as Steve, ears red, walks away. “You sure you can’t stay?” she asks. “It won’t even take ten minutes to get the waffles going.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Loki says as they begin to make their way towards her front door. “I don’t want to hit traffic and you know my mother will kill me if I so much as have a bite before I come to her home.”

“Tell Frigga I said hello then,” she says as she opens the door, leaning against it.

“Oh, believe me, that’s not the only thing I’ll be telling her,” he says, smirking as he gestures to her collarbone. She looks down, and he laughs as she adjusts the collar of her shirt to hide the mark still there. “Long night, was it?” She shoots him a withering look as he leans down to kiss her cheek, cocking a brow up at her. “I fully expect a detailed play by play when I get back.”

She chuckles, shoving him away playfully. “Get out of here!”

Loki smiles. “I’m happy for you, Nat.”

“Thank you,” she says with a nod. “Merry Christmas.”

With a wink, Loki waves goodbye, and she waits for him to make it down the stairs before shutting the door. She walks back to the living room, stopping just by the threshold to see Steve carrying Isabel as they both peer out the window. She smiles. “What are you two goofs up to?” 

“Is ’nowing!” Isabel says, pointing out the window as Steve turns.

“Is it?” she asks as she pads to them, making a show of checking out the window. “It is! Maybe if there’s enough later, we can go outside and try to make Olaf.”

Steve’s brow rises in question. “Who’s Olaf?”

“Glad you asked,” she says at the same time Isabel utters snowman. Steve only stares blankly at them, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get acquainted with him, Elsa, and Anna... Probably three times before this morning is over, if you’re lucky.”

“Still don’t know who those people are,” he says, pulling her in with his other hand until she’s pressed up against his side. “But I’ll gladly find out if you two introduce me.”

“What’s the saying again?” she muses, looking up teasingly at him. “Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it?”

He grins. “I think I may already have.”

The affection that fills his eyes is so remarkably perspicuous that she wonders how she’s missed it all these years, and as her lips turn up to mirror his smile, she makes a silent vow to never doubt its existence ever again. He leans down, but before his lips can meet hers, Isabel turns in his arms, effectively wedging herself between them.

“Mish-tow!” Isabel says, pointing above them.

They both laugh as they look up, and sure enough, the bundle of mistletoe she had put up yesterday looms above them. She smirks. “You know what that means, right?”

“I think I do,” he says, nodding knowingly as they both turn to Isabel, who’s watching them curiously.

“Fig sandwich!” they both yell as they lean in, pressing a kiss to Isabel’s cheeks and delighting in the way their daughter’s joyous laughter echoes throughout the room.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

[phantomchick]

Naruto Fic Rec Masterpost!

The Last To Know by KuriQuinn Oneshot, Gen, Teen and Up, Team Seven, Sakura and Sasuke, Sakura and Team 7, Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending, trust, broken trust, forgiveness, hurt/comfort, this fic is fantastic and made me have so many feels for the characters as well as the bonds between them, Character Dynamics,

Summary: As usual, telling her the truth happens as though by afterthought. And this time, she's not taking it.

i'll always be there for you by RecklessWriter Oneshot, Gen, Itachi and Sasuke feels, sibling feels, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Big Brother Uchiha Itachi, a part of me niggles over team 7 failing a mission but I pretend that they ran into the hunter nin afterwards and Kakashi got the scroll back, it do be like that sometimes, Good big brother Itachi, Bad big brother Itachi, it’s complicated, Feels,

Summary:

He’s pressed against something warm. There are fingers carding gently through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Nii-san,” Sasuke whispers.

The hand in his hair freezes.

Sasuke gets thrown into a frozen lake. Itachi doesn't know how to stop being a big brother, even when he's supposed to be pretending he doesn't care.

The Beautiful Orange Thing by zafiro Oneshot, Gen, Naruto and Kurama, Naruto is a very lonely kid and the kyubi is a very lonely bijuu, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, chibi-Naruto, Naruto loves Orange, Kurama tolerates Naruto because he is Cute, sweetness and light, angst and fluff, so cute I wanna physically hug this fic to my chest

Summary: Naruto arrives at a weird place and finds something wonderful there.

Maslow by FriendshipCastle Oneshot, Gen, T for cursing, canonical child neglect, Iruka feels, Naruto feels, implied/referenced child abuse, but nothing worse than what’s in canon, angst, hurt/comfort,

Summary: The first four tiers of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Human Needs applied to Naruto’s depressing childhood. Alternatively: Iruka slowly becomes the best replacement mother a ninja could have.

take the fight from the kid by theformerone Oneshot, Gen, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Team 7, Canon Compliant, but can be read as divergent, Post Wave arc, Pre-Chuunin Exams,  

Summary: Training with his team is different than it was before the mission to Wave. Sasuke notices how things have changed.

A Clean Break by GwendolynStacy Oneshot, Gen, Teen and Up,  Hatake Kakashi and Team 7, Team as Family, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Team Fluff, Kakashi feels, Self-Harm via compulsive hand washing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Happy Ending,

Summary: Every member of Team 7 has their personal set of demons to haunt them. While Kakashi is always prepared to lend his students a listening ear, he still hasn’t quite figured out how to ask for help when he’s the one crumbling.

The Beginning and the End by QuinsValoria Oneshot, short oneshot, gen, THIS HAD ME SOBBING OVER KUSHINA AGAIN EVEN THOUGH IT’S SO SHORT, pre-canon era, angst, Dont worry kushina, Your baby makes it out just fine, cries into laptop screen, Hurt/Comfort,

Summary:

“Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.” —Robert Browning

Uzumaki Kushina is an amazing mother, even in the very short time she has left.

OR

Kushina comforts her baby.

The Prince Of Leaves And Deep Water by RayShippouUchiha Ongoing, 3 chapter fic, do you ever read a fic with language that is so pretty and evocative that you just want to lean into it, like a kid listening to a piece of folklore that’s been passed down, it’s just beautiful to read? And the words slice and cut into your feelings in the best of ways, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, Kushina feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Uzumaki Lore, well worth the read even as a stand alone should it never update again, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canonical Child Neglect, Uzushio feels,

Summary: ‘Protect him,’ Kushina prays in the quiet of her own mind as she leaves; pleading silently to the old spirits from her childhood, to the things that the Uzumaki Elders used to whisper about in hushed tones.

‘Love him,’ Kushina begs of the things she only knows from instinct and half remembered stories, those things filled with the power of salt and sun and deep deep waters.  Those things that live and thrive in the heart and soul of every Uzumaki who has ever breathed and battled and bled.  'Guide him, keep him safe for always.  But love him most of all. My little prince of eddies and leaves.’

Left behind, left alone and cold where before there was only a soft sort of warmth and a steady kind of safety, Naruto wails.

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip Completed, 5 Chapter Fic, Gen, Umino Iruka & The Rookie Nine, Iruka-Sensei, Feels, fluffy, I have so many emotions about Iruka being the best teacher in the elemental nations and this fic brought them all out to play, Excellence, Kakashi is a troll, a huge troll, like, he’s such a troll he’s a mountain troll, Asuma is a lesser troll, like he’s mostly decent but still infuriating so he’s a bridge troll, Kurenai is so cool that even when she’s trolling as is her right and duty as the jounin elite she is, the person she’s trolling still respects her for it, a river troll, the kids are so cute and young here, you can really feel Iruka’s affection for them, please revel in the wonderful that is this entire fic, revel I say

Summary: Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

it takes a village by quillofferings Oneshot, Gen, snapshot series, angst, character insight, konoha 12, rookie 9, team Gai, team 10, team 8, team 7, repeating patterns and revelations, kinda gives a sense of the culture of a childhood in Konoha in a way that’s very quietly tragic, this story was written well before shippuden came out but it still reads mostly true to me, A Classic of the Fandom,

Summary: A Naruto snapshot series in the form of a oneshot.

spirals by nescione Gen, Oneshot, Team Seven, Generations, Team 7, Dai Nana Han, Spirals, Repeating Patterns, things happening the same across generations in repeating patterns is a big theme in the canon and lots of fic delve into it and play with the whole idea as a result, but this fic does it especially well, Team as Family, Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, A Classic of the Fandom, Summary: From the sannin to the present- a look at how history repeats itself, and how it doesn't.

this, and love too, will ruin us by RecklessWriter Oneshot, Gen, Itachi and Sasuke feels, Naruto Feels, Short and Sweet, Angst, Whump, Brother Feels, Sibling feels, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Naruto Uzumaki Needs a Hug,

Summary: Naruto remembers the first time he saw Sasuke and Itachi.

He remembers looking at them and thinking, I wish I had someone who loved me like that.

Ten Facts About Team Yamato by Lisse Oneshot, Gen, short and sweet, Team 7 feels, Team as Family, Dai Nana Han, Team Seven, Team Yamato, characterisation, short but solid, Ficlet,

Summary: On paper, their team doesn't exist.

Troubling New Developments by SicTransitGloria Oneshot, Teen and Up, hilarious, pre-shippuden, Team as Family, Kakashi pov, Team 7, AHAHAHAHA,  Puberty hits the genin,

Summary: Kakashi takes a moment to wrap his mind around equating Ino’s chest with enemy shinobi while Asuma begins beating his head against the table and groaning about how he didn’t sign up for this. Rated for language and the general horror that is puberty

Of Harrowed Hearts by Sable_Scribe Ongoing and possibly (probably) Abandoned, Gen, Long Fic, we’re at 36 chapters in as of the time I’m posting this, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix It, Families of Choice, Team Seven, Team as Family, Bamf Kakashi, Good Teacher! Kakashi, Angst, Uzushio Lore, Fluff, Uzushio Feels, Uzumaki heritage, Bamf Team 7, BAMF Rookie Nine, Naruto's ability to make friends with giant chakra demons surfaces early, Rookie Nine, Rookie 9, Konoha 12, Naruto and Kurama,

Summary Naruto has been hearing the rumbling growl in the back of his head for as long as he can remember. He’s seven when he tries to talk to it for the first time. He’s the dead last, the failure at everything, so he doesn’t actually expect to succeed. And when he’s suddenly standing, knee deep in murky water and face to face with a demon, he has no idea what to expect. As it turns out, the world could use something unexpected.

Automatic by Dayadhvam Oneshot, Gen, Sand Siblings, Fluff, Team as Family, but also, Family as Family, Short and Sweet, A Classic of The Fandom

Summary: Gaara's shield defense is automatic: he has never had to consciously think about ordering the sand where it is needed. Kankurou and Temari have always known this.

As Is the Sea Marvelous by blackkat Mature, Gen, Eleven Chapter Fic, Warring States Era, Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama, Izuna Lives AU, everybody lives nobody dies, Hurt/Comfort, brotherly feels, sibling relationships, Angst With A Happy Ending, Insecurity, Self-Sacrifice, Imprisonment, Fix-It

Summary: Tobirama is willing to give absolutely anything for Hashirama and his dream. Including his life.

A Lesson In Trust by Live Gen, Oneshot, Shikamaru & Naruto friendship, academy days, trust exercise, fluff

Summary: All Iruka wants is for his class to start trusting each other, too bad Shikamaru would rather watch the clouds...

Snow Is Serious Business When Your Business Is Being A Kid by vulcanhighblood Gen, Oneshot, Iruka and Naruto, Umino Iruka is a Good Teacher, Uzumaki Naruto Needs a Hug, Fluff, Snow

Summary: Iruka's trying to teach his class, but the first snowfall of the year makes keeping their attention more difficult than he would have liked.

The Consequences of Winning by tabjoy13 Oneshot, Gen, Team 7, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi is a Good Teacher, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi Is Trying, Wave Mission

Summary: Three days. It had been three days since Zabuza’s attack, since Kakashi passed out, and since Team Seven took refuge in the bridge builder’s home. Three days and Kakashi hadn’t shown a sign of stirring. Three young genin are left with the question: now what? Cross posted on FF.net.

discendo docemus by llamallamaduck Mature, Ongoing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Trauma/Ptsd, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Good Orochimaru, A lot of talk about depression and mental instability, Also Sharingan fuckery and assorted eye-trauma, rarepair, Itachi & Sasuke, eventual Sasuke/Ukitake, Itachi & Tsunade, 

Summary: There are some things a seven-year-old psyche is not ready to endure. An S-ranked torture technique preformed by a traumatized thirteen-year-old is one of those things. Sasuke doesn’t enjoy hallucinating memories of his murdered family day in and day out, but he’s learned to be philosophical about such things. It’s everything else that’s the problem, really.

Nidaime Otokage by DuskBeforeDawn Ongoing, inspired by nukenin, Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Protective Hatake Kakashi, BAMF Hatake Kakashi, BAMF Dai-nana-han,Team 7, Team as Family, Non-Konoha Shinobi Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, Kage level Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi-centric, fluff, adventure, crack, mature, fun read

Summary: No one knew him.His father was still alive.His Sharingan acted like it had always been his.Kakashi was twenty-two years in the past of a different world.

French Kissing, the End of the World, and Other Impossible Ordeals by Tsume_Yuki Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Female Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel, Uchiha Sasuke Being an Asshole, Protective Uchiha Sasuke, BAMF Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel Fix-It, Smitten Uchiha Sasuke, grumpy asshole/cheerful optimist, this fic is literally just Sasuke being soft for Naruto, Mature but like it’s fiiine the author could’ve left it at teen and up and it would’ve gotten a pass at least from me

Summary: This is it, centuries of excellent genetics, of carefully selected marriages to maximise the potential of future generations and it’s going to be Sasuke who introduces idiocy to the Uchiha bloodline. The ancestors must be rolling in their graves. In which Sasuke is smitten, Naruto is a badass, and time travel happens.

No Tomorrow by Authorship Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Clan, Shisui Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Longfic, Completed, Found Family, Fix It, Mature, Time Travel, Fuck Danzo

Summary: The water was crushing, pummelling Shisui's broken form, even as it swept him further and further from Konoha. 

And then Shisui woke up.

It's two months until the day he died. Two months to change the current of his life, of his Clan, of his village. And Shisui has no intention of letting history run its course.

¦ part 1 ¦ part 2 ¦ part 3 ¦

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Family Matters More

Keanu Reeves x reader. Requested. (A/n- So, because I’m terrible at staying organized, I have all of my requests, but not who they were requested by, so, when I write and post and you aren’t tagged even if you didn’t request on anon, I am very, very sorry, it’s no one’s fault but my own.)

Masterlist

Warnings- Pregnancy, Angst (it’s fine at the end though.)

Dropping the phone to the dark veined, marble kitchen counter, Y/n sighed heavily, raking her nails through her hair. Tears prickled at her eyes, making them glassy and ready to overflow. It had been coming, her entire family knew it, but Y/n still couldn’t believe the news she’d just heard from her mother; her uncle, who she’d grown up extremely close to, had died, from lung cancer. He’d been suffering for almost two years, aggressive chemo had only worked the first time, but when another cluster of tumors had shown up in a follow up PET scan, nothing had worked and her family’s only option had been to make his last days comfortable. Unfortunately, his ‘last days’ had turned out to be thirteen grueling months. 

Uncle Kenny had wilted away like flowers at the beginning of winter, growing duller as the days dragged on. The last time Y/n had seen him was months ago, she’d wanted to visit him at the hospice, but collectively, her parents and husband had urged her to keep their interactions restricted to over the phone, not wanting to stress her out too much. It had frustrated her at first, Uncle Kenny was her favorite uncle, always able to put a smile on her face when she was a kid and had taught her so much about the great outdoors while her parents were too busy climbing the corporate ladder to do it themselves. But though it was hard, eventually, Y/n had relented, but only after her uncle had personally requested that she stay away. That had come after she’d told him that she and Keanu were expecting. He loved her, and his unborn grand niece, which was why he couldn't risk something happening to Y/n or the baby because of added stress.

Hanging her head in her hands, Y/n tried to quell the stinging in her eyes, but her efforts were fruitless and before long, hot tears were falling freely, punctuated by soft sobs racking her body. It wasn’t supposed to hurt that much, Y/n knew that it was inevitable, and it should have comforted her that he’d gone in his sleep, but really, it didn’t. If only he hadn’t been such an avid smoker, then maybe he’d still be there, hopefully to teach her daughter the things he’d taught Y/n when she was a kid.

“So, babe I-” Keanu cut himself off as he entered the kitchen. Worry immediately swelling in his chest at the sight of his wife in tears, “Hey,” he cooed, immediately going over to where she sat at the counter, pulling her flush against his chest and smoothing his hands over her hair, “Shh,” he kissed the top of her head, “What’s wrong baby?”

It took a while, Y/n was blubbering so intense that she couldn’t speak, but after about fifteen minutes spent in Keanu’s comforting embrace, she settled enough to form words, “He’s gone Ke,” she sobbed, burrowing into his chest, “Uncle Kenny’s gone.”

Right there, Keanu’s heart broke for her. Of course, everyone knew that the moment was coming, but still his wife had lost someone dear to her, and in such a painful way. All he wanted was to take the hurt away, she was supposed to be enjoying the path to motherhood, not breaking down because she’d lost a loved one. “I’m sorry baby,” Keanu kissed the top of Y/n’s head again. “Come on,” he eventually urged her off of the barstool, hugging her close as he led them to the living room, cuddling her as they sank onto the sofa. “Can I get you anything? Water or tea?” Even if he couldn’t fix her heartbreak, Keanu could still take care of her, and their baby.

“No,” she shook her head, staring forward blankly, her fingers absently tracing circles on her growing bump, too upset to notice the fluttering kicks against her stomach. Why couldn’t he have just stuck around for three more months? If not to see her grow up, just to meet her, at least once. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keanu probed, wishing that he could offer more than just a listening ear and a hug.

Y/n shook her head again, “Not really,” her words were soft and broken, “Can we just sit here for a bit?” 

“Of course sweetheart.”

Funerals were always emotionally draining, but it was especially so when you were six months pregnant and your emotions were working in overtime. Huffing as she entered their bedroom, Y/n winced as she stationed a weary hand at her aching back. The lengthy service had been held at a church in the city, Uncle Kenny just had to be a devout Catholic in his final days, and the old, worn, wooden pews hadn’t been very kind. Worse yet, the kitten heels she’d opted to wear didn’t provide much support when she’d had to spend nearly two hours on her feet, standing at the entrance with her parents as they thanked everyone as they trickled out of the cathedral. 

With a pained groan, half from her back, half from the headache she’d acquired at some point throughout the day, Y/n slowly sank into the armchair, intent on starting to remove her shoes. Just as Y/n had lifted one swollen ankle onto her other knee, Keanu came into the bedroom, tugging at the neck of his black tie, his longish dark strands brushing his shoulders, the salt in his beard signalling that he hadn’t gone for a trim in a while. “Let me do that,” he offered, coming to kneel in front of her. 

“No,” Y/n flinched away, “I’ll do it.” She was upset with him, though, she hadn’t let him know yet. Y/n had spent the last week or so in deep, deep thought; her uncle had been a smoker, which had led to lung cancer and, ultimately, death. Keanu was a smoker too, and Y/n couldn’t help but worry that she’d lose him like that or to some other type of ill health. 

Furrowing his brows, Keanu tilted his head to the side. Y/n had been cold with him all day, holding his hand, but only reluctantly so, and barely saying a word to him on the drive back to their house. He understood that she was hurting, but he didn’t want her to shut him out because of it. “What’s wrong?”

“We just came back from a funeral, what do you think’s wrong?” Y/n grumbled, struggling to take her shoes off, eventually submitting to his help. “Excuse me,” she pushed off the arm chair, shrugging off the black blazer that she’d worn over her smock dress, letting her hair down afterwards. 

“Y/n,” Keanu sighed her name quietly, “Please, just talk to me. I know this is hard for you but-”

“I want you to stop smoking,” the admission just tumbled out of her mouth, with barely any warning. She’d had it; watching her uncle wither away was hard enough, Y/n was sure that she couldn’t survive watching Keanu being broken down like that. And worse yet, raise their child on her own, what was she supposed to tell their daughter? That her father puffed his life away even though he knew she’d need him?

“What?” Keanu slipped his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, taken aback by her harsh request.

“I want you to stop smoking,” Y/n repeated firmly, “I don’t want to lose you like that. And even if its not cancer, there’s a whole bunch of other stuff that it could cause. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you, you know that.”

Keanu chuckled humorlessly, hoping to lighten the moment. Y/n had never had a problem with his nasty vice before, they’d been together for years, and now, out of the blue she wanted him to stop? “Honey,” he chuckled again, “Don’t be ridiculous.” In retrospect, accusing his pregnant wife of being ridiculous may not have been his best move.

“Ridiculous?” Y/n repeated incredulously, “You think I’m being ridiculous for wanting you to be healthy? Well maybe I’m being ridiculous for having a baby with a man who’s not taking care of himself, who probably doesn’t even care if he lives long enough to walk his daughter down the aisle one day.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed, already exasperated, “I’m fine Y/n, healthy and right here.” He loved his wife, but like almost every other husband in the world Keanu didn’t want to be wrong. Besides, he was stuck in his ways; old habits die hard. And above all, he was scared, Keanu didn’t want to think about missing one of the most important days of his daughter’s life, no father did. Unfortunately though, instead of his inner turmoil encouraging him to be sympathetic to Y/n's cause, it just fanned Keanu’s flame, rousing the worst reaction, “And you know what? If having a baby with me is so fucking ridiculous, maybe we shouldn’t have kept it! Hell, I’m older than you anyway, maybe I’ll just die, have you thought of that?” 

Y/n’s lips quivered, frightened at his tone and at a complete loss for words. How could he say those things? “I…..” Nothing would come, and suddenly, Y/n wanted to be far away from Keanu. That wasn’t the gentle, sweet man she married. Her husband was loving and sensitive, he was overjoyed when they’d found out that they were having a baby and ordinarily would have never said something so cruel. Y/n didn’t know what had prompted the seemingly overnight change, but she did know that if Keanu was going to be like that, she didn’t want to be in the same house with him.

Seeing the tears in her eyes and the slight shake in her form, Keanu swore under his breath, “Fuck.” He couldn’t believe that he’d let fear and anger get the better of him like that. He stood; wooden and glued to the floor as Y/n suddenly started moving around in as much of a haste as her condition would afford her, grabbing a large bag from their closet and packing some of her stuff into it, “I’m- shit,” he mumbled when she wouldn’t stop to hear him, “Y/n,” he pleaded, reached out to grab her arm, huffing in defeat when she pulled away, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, well you did.” Zipping the top up, Y/n swung her bag over her shoulders, too enraged to take the time to put her shoes back on, so instead shoving her tired feet into the nearest pair of flip flops, a fluffy set that she usually wore after getting into her pajamas. Without another word, she was leaving the bedroom, headed towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Keanu followed Y/n down the steps, and able to move a little faster than her, he easily blocked her way at the bottom.

Her cheeks were tear stained and Y/n’s eyes were already red, one hand gripped the strap of the bag tightly while the other was placed protectively over her bump. Keanu hated seeing her cry, yet, that night, he’d been the one bringing tears to her eyes. “Home,” was all she offered, trying to squeeze through the space between his larger body and the railing.

“You are home,” he countered, folding his arms.

“I meant home, to my parents,” she clarified, not even sure why she’d bothered to tell him. At the side door to the garage, Y/n grabbed her car keys off the little brass hook, singling out the remote for her car alarm and then hitting the button at the top to unlock it.

“At least let me drive you,” he didn’t want Y/n to leave like that, distraught and past dark. Even in the security of her car, anything could happen, and above all, her safety came first, triumphing any amount of anger over their spat.

“No,” Y/n was getting into her car, clumsily sliding into the driver’s seat, “I just…...I don’t want to be around you right now, okay?” 

The harshness in her tone coupled with her actual words stung like a snake bite to the chest, though Keanu was well aware that he’d said much worse not too long ago. He should have been reasonable instead of acting like an insensitive jerk. He should have heard her out and talked things through with Y/n instead of spewing battery acid.

The garage door reeled open and Y/n started backing her car out, not paying Keanu any mind as he called after her. Desperately, he followed on his feet for as far as he could, though, as usual, he was reminded that his knees weren't what they used to be and before long, Y/n's car was far beyond his reach, his wife and child, who he was  absolutely terrified to lose, gone, and he'd had no clue when, or if, they'd ever be back.

Sleep had been hard to come by that night, so hard that it never really came. Keanu's mind was constantly bombarded with anxious thoughts of Y/n. She hadn't answered her phone when he called, probably two dozen times, and when he'd tried her parents place, they'd both rattled off cheap, continuous excuses; she wasn't there yet, she was sleeping or even the age old "she's busy." 

All night, he'd worried about her, even between his fruitless phone calls. Was she sleeping okay? Was she well? How was the baby? For a brief moment, at around two am, Keanu had all but actually made it to his car, still dressed from the funeral, ready to head to his in-laws and mend things with his love, but in the end, fear and reason had stopped him. Y/n needed time to cool off, especially after what he'd said, a mere few hours definitely weren't going to cut it.

And then, slumping into one of the sitting room's sofas, Keanu finally took a minute to think about exactly what had gone down. Her plea had been reasonable; if it had been the other way around, he'd have wanted her to stop a lifetime ago, expect her to do anything that would prolong their time together. But there he'd stood, trying to make Y/n the fool for asking the same of him. 

Maybe I'll just die. Those were his words.

Keanu had never been one to let himself be preoccupied with thoughts of his own death, it was frivolous after all, it wasn't like he could change it. One day, it was going to happen, one day, he was going to leave people behind. And it never bothered him, that was, until he met her. So innocently, not looking to fall in love, but just a month later, doing it anyway. Almost four years ago, Y/n had brought a new vibrancy to his life, and now, they were creating one together. And with every cell in his being, Keanu didn't want to miss a moment of it.

Quitting was hard, he'd tried before. But arguably, before, there wasn't so much at stake. Just like that, with reinvigorated energy, Keanu pushed off the couch, fishing a half empty pack of smokes from his pocket, tossing it to the kitchen counter, only to head to the little draw in the kitchen where he usually kept some more on hand. Even if it wasn't going to be easy, even if the stories he'd heard about withdrawal and the side effects of going cold turkey were terrifying, Keanu knew that he had to. For his wife, for his child. For himself. 

For the rest of the night, knowing full and well that sleeping with her spot vacant would be a daunting task, Keanu disregarded the need for rest, instead opting to sweep the house for any trace of a cigarette; getting rid of everything from stray smokes and glass ashtrays to expensive cigars. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. 

By dawn, everything indicating that a smoker resided at their cushy house in the hills had been tossed; dumped in the appropriate bin at the curb, and then, unable to hold out any longer, Keanu finally got in his car, started it up and backed out into the street, headed to bring his family home.

Her eyes burned, half from crying all night and half from just not sleeping at all. Though she'd tried, pillows tucked around her, Y/n still hadn't managed to catch a wink all night, and as the light of dawn split the darkness, she'd found herself queasy with homesickness. It wasn't like she hadn't ever spent a night away from her place with Keanu, but the feeling of being at odds with him like that, knowing she'd actively left so abruptly and so distraught, had made her literally sick. 

Needless to say, things had gone far awry from what Y/n had expected. Of course, he was allowed to be upset, she was asking him to give up something he'd been doing for more than twenty years, smoking, as terrible as it was, was ingrained in his routine. Habitual. And trying to take it away so sudden would be like ripping away someone's security blanket. So really, she had no intention of hurting him.

Yet still, he'd hurt her  

That morning, and the painful memory continued to rack her frame with soft sobs, eventually interrupted by her mother, features pinched with worry, knocking on her ajar door as she poked her head in, "Y/n," she probed tentatively, "Sweetheart, Keanu wants to know if you'd be okay with talking to him now. Please, he's worried about you."

"I don't wanna talk to him," Y/n shifted beneath the mass of covers, swiping away some tears from her reddened cheeks, "Just tell him to leave me alone." She knew, full and well, that she sounded like a melodramatic teenager going through a lover's spat with her high school boyfriend, but Y/n didn't care. 

"Dear," her mother sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I know you two had a fight last night, but he's your husband. Besides, he's already downstairs."

Struggling to turn towards the door and sit up, Y/n couldn't decide if she was infuriated or touched, "What?" Sniffing loudly, she reached for a tissue from the box at her bedside, "Why?"

"Because, he's worried and he loves you," when Y/n didn't look particularly moved, her mother, as adamant on having them resolve their issues as she was, continued, "And he know he's said some stupid things, but he doesn't want to keep things this way. Everyone makes mistakes Y/n. Please just talk to him, he's here and he's as much of a mess as you are. And we both know that all this stress isn't good for the baby, I'm sure she misses her daddy."

Hesitating for a moment, Y/n eventually nodded, absently caressing her bump as she finally permitted, "Okay, fine. Tell him I'll be right down."

Smiling faintly, Y/n's mother thought on it for a minute, before suggesting; "Even better; why don't I ask him up here? That way you two can shut the door and have some privacy."

"Yeah, okay," wiping her reddened nose with the crumpled tissue, trying not to cry again, "He can come up." Mouthing an okay, Y/n’s mother pushed the door back in, walking off without another word, and just as she did, Y/n shoved off the covers, scooting to the edge of the bed and slowly standing. Taking a minute to go over to the full length mirror, passing a brush from the top of the dresser through her bed head and then attempting to straighten her mismatched pajamas, she was just about to go over to the window, to see if Keanu's car was really parked out front, when her door creaked open, the sudden sound making her jump and gasp. 

"Hey," Keanu didn't hold her gaze for longer than a minute handful of seconds before letting his whiskey orbs fall to the hardwood floor, strands from his untamed mane curtaining his tired features. Cautiously, as if he were afraid of upsetting her, Keanu inched into Y/n's childhood bedroom. They both knew the room well, and she remembered the first time she'd brought him to it, the night he'd met her parents for the first time. They'd been skeptical at first, he was older, and Hollywood had given most of their men a bad rep, but by the end of dinner, her mother was smitten and her father…...well, he could tolerate him. They'd brought their desert up there and had it by the window, just before Y/n had showed him around. Their current situation felt far different; void of the warmth of new love replaced by the stifling fear that their marriage was hanging in the balance. 

"Hi," meekly, Y/n replied, swallowing thickly and not knowing how they should have continued. She didn't like how it felt; to be so flustered in his company. They were each other's safe places, refuge after a long, hard day, their first phone calls when something good happened and everything in between. Around Keanu, silence was comfortable and usually, breaking long stretches without words exchanged was easy. But that morning, she didn't have the slightest clue on what to say, on how to begin to bridge the gap that had grown overnight. 

Putting a fist to his lips, Keanu raised his head again, tentatively looking around first to the unmade bed and then to Y/n standing near the closed window as he cleared his throat, primarily to break the tense silence. "I'm sorry," just as she had the night before, Y/n flinched when Keanu reached for her, that time though, it was more out of hurt than anger. She could see that her actions had stung him by the pained look that crossed his face, but he'd done his own share  of damage the night before, and even if she could be talked into forgiving, Y/n wasn't just yet ready to forget. "What I said-"

"Was pretty damn fucked up," the break in her voice brought with it a new wave of quiet tears and Y/n could swear she felt her heart start breaking at his words replaying in her mind. Maybe we shouldn’t have kept it. Maybe I’ll just die. “You talked about aborting our child Keanu! What, were you just lying every time you said you wanted a family with me?”

“No, no, of course not,” scouring his brain for the right words, Keanu’s chest felt tight. He really had messed things up, with the best person in his life, and he wasn’t sure he could fix it. But he had to give it his best. He didn’t think he could stand to leave without his wife. “I just,” hitting his thigh with his fist and shaking his head, Y/n could see him fighting tears, “I got defensive, I don't want to think about not being there for the both of you, it’s scary.”

“Then talk to me about it, try to understand where I’m coming from when I ask you to try to quit,” Y/n’s arms fell to her sides in defeat, “Don’t…..” When she couldn’t finish, Keanu approached her again, and that time, she let him wrap her in his strong arms. It had just been one night, but she’d missed their comfort dearly, there was absolutely nothing that could compare to his embrace.

“I’m so, so sorry sweetheart,” his husky, pained voice was barely a whisper and he followed up his words with a chaste kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It felt so good to have her tucked against his chest again, their heartbeats in sync. “I never, ever want to hurt you like this again,” Keanu rubbed her back soothingly, one hand toying with the ends of her freed tresses, “And I want to be with you, both of you, for as long as I can be. So I’m quitting, I’m done with that.”

With tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes, Y/n reared back slightly to meet his equally blurry gaze, “I’m sorry I picked a fight about that,” Y/n sighed quietly, and as much as she’d wanted him to quit smoking, she didn’t want to push him too hard, “And you know, if its too hard then-”

“No,” Keanu swallowed thickly, “It’s not. I don’t care about that, our family matters more to me, and you two are gonna be stuck with me for a very, very long time.”

Through her tears, a glimmer of a smile broke through, brightening her sorrow, and without warning Y/n’s arms around Keanu’s middle tightened and she laid her head on his chest, “Good,” she grinned softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly, “Cause we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana   @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​  @danceoftwowolves​

[tundrainafrica]

This is mostly me daydreaming off of your writing, but for that postcanon/domestic au thing you have, i always have a soft spot for it because while domestic AUs are nice, I’ve never read one that captured my feelings towards relationship dynamics and parenthood. I often read books/fics where the maternal parent (usually the mom) is the one who is emotionally attached to motherhood and kids. I’ve read so many stories where a mom will just abandon her personal goals for raising her kids, or starts out not wanting kids but the moment they’re born she does a 180. These stories are nice and I appreciate them, but i also dislike how 90% of the time this seems like the only possible outcome. The other 10% is used to show that a woman not being emotional about kids/motherhood = bad human being. I remember seeing a detective show where the bad guy was this woman who was stealing babies of homeless people and the “connection” for how she could do that was that she was cold tempered and gave up her own kid for adoption because she didn’t want to have kids. So like it’s full emotional motherhood or terrible parent, no in between. When i read your domestic AU i dont get that feeling all. Not only are L/H dynamics different to the stereotypical relationship dynamics but the way you portray their parenting makes me feel like my views are valid and that im not a bad person. When i tell people that im not cut out for parenthood, that im too selfish to put a baby before my work, people don’t believe me. They tell me I’ll change my mind once i have one of my own. The fact that most media supports this mindset makes me feel like im a bad person for feeling different. So seeing a hange who isn’t aware that she’s pregnant cause she’s so busy with her work, seeing one who struggles to be a provider when levi gets hurt is so refreshing man. I can’t really thank you enough for writing types these fics. In your recent one with the bad words, there was one line that stayed with me, something like “do you want me to make dinner/ no, i want you to spend time with Luke”. It’s probably just a throwaway dialogue line connecting the bigger themes you have, but for me that line meant a lot and i started to imagine scenarios where hange struggles to accept being a parent, struggles to connect emotionally to a being that not only can’t fully understand her but also doesn’t have patience to listen to her, shows affection through education over cuddling and such, etc. Babies can be a fun “science project”, but they’re not sitting patiently in a lab waiting for the scientist to figure them out, they’re bawling at 3 am for the 10th night in a row. I am sort of self projecting here, but it’s just nice to see something different for once. Lol, sorry for making this long, its hard to phrase things sometimes.

ANON. PLEASE do not feel bad about writing long stuff. You made me so happy reading this. I write to process emotions, experiences and to see that people feel the same way or are able to take home things from my writing makes me so happy.

I'm gonna be completely honest. I didn't grow up with the most hands on mother or actually the most hands on parents in general so like 'Hange' parents were the type of parents I grew up with and 'Levi' parents are kinda the wish fulfillment for me, or the parents which I didn't have but when I stay in people's houses, when I watch my cousins, siblings or even my friends parent, those are the type of parenting methods I swoon over.

My parents were the type of people who birthed us and just went straight to work after. Like 'what is a maternal leave/paternal leave' levels of dedicated to their work.

Most people would probably think my parents weren't caring or a lot of people tend to treat that as 'bad.' I see the other way around too where when people choose to stay at home and raise kids and other people say 'don't you wanna have a life' like choosing to dedicating your life to kids is also a bad thing lmao.

Regardless of what you do, there will be people who criticize parenting methods anyway lmao. Like yeah, my parents were major workaholics, not very hands on but I think as kids, we all turned out fine.

I mean my parents weren't horrible people either. They are very reasonable people. They approach all conflict calmly. They rarely cry, get mad. And when something bad happens, they sit down and just discuss it and how to solve it calmly lmao. And they were amazing providers.

So like, I never actually saw the 'Hange' parenting or even the 'Levi' parenting thing which I write out as a bad thing?? Parenting is parenting? Parents are constantly trying to raise their 'mini mes' while trying to have a life at the same time.

As long as the parents aren't completely assholes and they do shit within reason and they try to learn from their mistakes, I don't think parents can be considered 'bad?'

[shireness-says]

I have yearned for you (and I still do)

Summary: “There’s an irony, she thinks, to the situation they find themselves in now - he, the man who has it all together, and her, an increasingly hot mess.” Sometimes the things you need are right back where you started from. ~10.6k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: For @welllpthisishappening​, who doesn’t want to talk about the revival, and @snidgetsafan​, who does. Behold: my pining-type thoughts! Thanks for your patience and encouragement as I stressed over this instead of working on my WIPs. 

Post-revival, if that’s an issue for anyone. Title from a Frank Turner song yet again, because that’s how I roll. Extra thanks to L for her beta skills.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

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Jess is the one who comes up with her name. In retrospect, that was probably a sign.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. From the moment the sonogram tech had announced congrats, it’s a girl , it had kind of been a done deal that she would be another Lorelai. Something something tradition. But with the reigning Lorelai still alive and well and so obviously having dibs on the full name, it’d been obvious that some sort of nickname was going to come into play. 

There’d been a suggestion box in the diner after no small amount of twisting Luke’s arm, suggestions of how the heck they were supposed to shorten Lorelai, and then a follow-up poll of the options Rory had actually liked (because she was not calling the kid “Loreo, like Oreo!”, thank you, Cesar). It’d been nice, actually, and a good way to channel the collective energy of the denizens of Stars Hollow without being stopped on the street every three minutes when her feet already hurt like hell. 

Anyways. In the polling, “Elle” had won, and Rory had actually really liked it. Something the kiddo had a chance to grow into - feminine, delicate yet strong, a name that would fit a little girl or a grown adult. And, c’mon - in the Gilmore household, they’ve always liked Legally Blonde anyways. There’s worse role models than Reese Witherspoon being unapologetically herself. 

But. 

The thing is, as much as Rory had though it was cute back when the kid was an unrealized idea, just a little mooch taking her energy and appetite for normal things, it’s a very different thing to hold her baby for the first time - her tiny girl, here and screaming and with wisps of the softest blonde hair. And she just can’t do it. It feels too on the nose, to call this little blonde baby Elle - like she’s about to doom this tiny person to a lifetime of not being taken seriously. She deserves better than that. 

She doesn’t go nameless; it’s easy to fill out the birth certificate Lorelai Richard Gilmore , even if the nurse casts a funny look at the choice of middle name. She’s never been a staunch traditionalist anyways, and Rory had wanted to honor her grandfather regardless if the baby had been a boy or a girl. He would have loved having a great-granddaughter to spoil in the way he and Grandma had been denied when she was a baby - and besides, even if Emily shakes her head about the unconventional choice, it makes her smile fondly too. 

Still - there’s a difference between what someone is named and what someone is called, and the latter for the youngest Lorelai is still a great big question mark. Rory runs back through the list of runners up, but nothing fits .

“I was supposed to have this figured out by now,” she whines to Jess when he drops by to visit and meet the baby. He’s been a huge help as she tries to write her book, and after years of awkward “what the hell even are we”, Rory feels like they’re finally back in a good place, back to being friends. She likes being friends, like him being one of her people again, even if the 2nd trimester horniness and wanting to jump his bones never really went away. But she’s not really in a place to think about that right now. “Aren’t I supposed to be able to just, like, look at her and know what her destined name is supposed to be?”

“Yes, because motherhood automatically grants mystical powers,” he replies wryly. “I think that whole thing is a myth, Gilmore.”

He looks good holding a baby - surprisingly comfortable too. It makes her realize, not for the first time, that he built himself a whole life she doesn’t know about while she ran around the world, trying to figure out what would make her happy - a life with a business and a purpose and probably friends with kids. Not at all the boy she met more than a decade ago. 

(It is something she tries not to focus too much on, for fear of where it might lead - to the realization that she may not really know him at all, or more dangerously, the realization that she wants to.)

“Ivy,” he says out of nowhere. “You should call her Ivy.”

“Ivy?” It hadn’t been one of the names any suggested before, but in a weird way, it fits. Something soft and strong and neutral, a name that could become anything. A name she can make her own.

“Yeah. I mean, she’s Lorelai the fourth, right? Lorelai the fourth. Lorelai I-V. Ivy.”

And it’s - well, the name is so right, but the logic behind it is so Jess. Because he’s always been clever like that - not even aware that there’s a box he’s thinking outside of. She likes, too, that now that he’s made the suggestion, he doesn’t try to backtrack or explain anything away, try to tell her she doesn’t have to listen. He knows she knows that. Jess has never been one to fill a silence just because it exists.

“I like that,” she finally says. “Ivy Gilmore.”

“Then congratulations - it’s a name.”

———

Telling Logan had been hard - harder than making herself take the test, harder than telling her mom. Because they’re not an item anymore, you know? They’ve gone their separate ways, ended whatever dynamic they’ve had going the last couple of years, and under normal circumstances, it would be easier to keep her distance. No contact, end it all firmly and definitively and for good .

A baby complicates that, and throws that possibility straight out the window.

She can’t really say she’s disappointed in Logan’s response, not when it plays out pretty much exactly the way Rory assumed it would. Nothing changes; they don’t get back together, and he doesn’t leave the French heiress. Rory isn’t certain she’d want either of those things anyways. He’d offered to support her in whatever decision she made, and that was more or less it. He’s never been great with emotions, and having a kid doesn’t show signs of changing that. 

(Rory hadn’t expected him to be a hands-on partner in this - not even remotely - but it still aches, knowing this is the beginning of what will be a pattern in their child’s life.)

Now, all these months later, Rory texts him a picture from the hospital once the parade of visitors has gone home. Even in the midst of that disappointment, he deserves to know.

Lorelai Richard Gilmore IV. 7 lbs, 2 oz. We’re calling her Ivy.

His reply comes through a half hour later. Congrats, Ace - she’s beautiful, just like her mother. 

(She’ll never admit it later - but when she receives his response, it takes everything in her not to cry.) 

———

It’s nerve-wracking, bringing Ivy home from the hospital and back to her mom’s house - like Rory shouldn’t be trusted to leave with such precious cargo. The hospital had been safe , and the big wide world out there feels full of dangers as she carefully steps out into the June sunshine, the baby carrier in hand. It’s this moment, of all times, that makes Rory feel like a parent for the first time - like it’s her sole job to protect and nurture this tiny person that she made.

Lorelai and Luke’s is just a temporary stopping place, just until Rory can get her feet beneath her in this whole motherhood thing. It’s terrifying, knowing that she’ll have to be doing this on her own soon enough. She’s taken the classes and read countless books and websites, but it’s a very different thing once you’re handed a tiny, wrinkly baby and are expected to figure it out. 

“How did you do it?” she asks her mom that first night, sitting in the kitchen together while Ivy nurses and Luke’s asleep upstairs. “I mean, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and I’m in my thirties. You were sixteen .”

“I did it because I had to, babe,” her mom replies, reaching across the table to tuck a lock of hair back behind Rory’s ear. “I knew I wanted to give you the best life I could, so… I had to figure it out. Looking back now, Mom and Dad would have helped, and they tried, but I didn’t want that. I mean, we’re okay-ish now, but I didn’t want you growing up under the same pressure I did. So I went out and figured it out because I had to. You were the making of me, kiddo. And I’ll tell you now - that kid’s going to change you in ways you can’t even imagine now. And it’ll all be worth it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I look at you every day, and I’m so proud - and I made that. Pretty cool, huh? And each day as she gets older, you’re going to get to do that too. You’ll figure this out. I know you will. You’re going to be a great mom.”

By the time Lorelai is done, Rory feels tears trying to form in her eyes. Something something hormones. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime, hon.”

———

She’s living in Luke’s old apartment above the diner. It’s the illusion of independence - it doesn’t feel like she’s living with her mother any more, especially now that she’s got a kid of her own, but she’s not paying rent either (no matter how much she had offered). The truth of the matter is that, except for Ivy’s things, she’s living out of boxes. There hadn’t been any sense to staying in New York, not when her income stream is so up in the air; besides, as much as Rory had loved the city for herself, she isn’t sure she’d want to raise her daughter there. Stars Hollow may be a bit loony, like a place out of a YA coming-of-age novel, but there’d been love in every single corner. She’d wanted that for Ivy, even when she was just two lines on a test stick - to grow up with this whole zany extended family. Rory’s own blood family is tiny, and even if Logan was eager to be involved, his isn’t much bigger; Ivy can use all the proto-aunts and -uncles and -grandparents she can gather. 

(Rory does feel some guilt on the rent front, but Luke wouldn’t hear of it. He’d waved it off in that grumpy way of his, some excuse about being too old to have a crying infant disturbing their sleep in the Queen Anne where Rory had grown up, but she remembers the way Luke had once called her a little bit his . This is his way of quietly looking after his grown almost-daughter - and looking at it like that, there’s no way she’d turn down the offer.)

(She knows for certain it’s all an excuse after Ivy is born, when Luke turns into every inch the doting grandfather, bouncing and cooing at the baby every time she expresses even the mildest displeasure. Too old for crying infants , her ass.)

The apartment is the same as ever, from the block letters on the door to the dark wood furniture inside. Honestly, it looks like the only thing Luke has updated in the past decade was replacing the refrigerator, and Rory doubts that was just on a whim. There’s a comfort to that same-ness - of knowing that some things never change, and don’t have to. She has so many memories up here, especially from that period when she and Jess had been dating. The blankets on the spare bed are different now - lavender and spring green for April, instead of the bachelor plaids Luke had scrounged up when Jess had moved in - but the couch is the same, and the kitchen table where they’d pretended to study, and the tiny closet of a bathroom where she’d try desperately to straighten her hair before heading home. A simpler time, in some ways - but a more complicated one too. Rory had been the town princess then, the perennial good girl , and for all of his brains and sarcastic charm, Jess had been a mess in many ways. Now, things are a bit more grey - where Rory doesn’t quite have her act together, and Jess is the one with a life and a career and a calling. She’s proud of him in so many ways, but it leaves her feeling off balance, and as much of that is about her own adrift state, there’s no denying that part of it is about this unexpected reversal. So much will never change in Stars Hollow - but somehow, this has. 

———

Logan finally comes stateside, to Stars Hollow, when Ivy is a little over five weeks old. 

They meet at the Dragonfly, because it seems the most neutral spot. Lorelai may have capital-o Opinions, but she’ll keep them to herself if Rory asks, and it’s still better than pulling him through the diner up to the apartment, where overprotective townies will glare and Kirk might try to challenge him to a duel for her honor or something. No one ever knows with Kirk. 

Logan meeting Ivy is… he makes all the right moves in the moment, you know? He smiles and bounces her and looks at her like some sort of precious mystery. But Rory can see too, already, from years of experience, that he’s got the makings of another Christopher. As much as she knows that he’ll love the kid they made, and do his best to take care of her, he’s not ready, and Rory can’t force him to be. Even in his thirties, Logan has a lot of growing up to do. 

“I went ahead and set up a fund for her college,” he makes sure to say before he departs, flying out of Boston that very afternoon to take care of some business in LA, “but you’ll let me know if she needs anything, right Ace? Or if you do?”

���I promise. Scout’s honor, cross my heart.”

“She really is beautiful, Rory. Thanks for this - letting me be a part of it.”

And then, before she knows it, he’s gone.

(She’ll never regret the times they were together, not when it brought her their daughter, but Ivy has made it all too obvious why they never would have lasted. Rory has long since stopped wondering what things would have been like if she had said yes, all those years ago when Logan had proposed. This is proof enough - a life spent hoping for something he’s not willing or able to give, and watching him climb onto an airplane over and over again.)

(In some moments, Rory almost thinks Logan’s absence is for the best when she remembers the utter horror that is his family - the way his mother doesn’t care about anything but her creature comforts, and Mitchum doesn’t care about anything but himself and his impossible standards. Rory may feel guilty about it, but sometimes, she’s relieved that Logan’s absence means that Ivy will never have to face their condescension the way Rory had to with Straub and Francine. It is a small blessing to be found in the tragedy that she’s afraid Logan’s involvement, and lack thereof, will turn into.)

When Jess comes by later to talk about the book and probably watch a movie, he finds her crying in the kitchen, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake Ivy. He pulls her into his arms seemingly without a second thought, and Rory lets herself melt into the hug, just for the moment. 

“It’s leftover hormones,” she tries to excuse, but they both know better. They’re both products of absentee fathers, after all, both know the ways that can shape a child. Jess knows full well what happened today; it’s probably why he’s here tonight, to pull her from the worst of her self pity. They both know her tears aren’t for herself, for the death of a relationship that’s long since ended; they’re for Ivy, and a relationship that maybe won’t start. 

“She won’t be alone,” he makes sure to tell her once Rory’s calmed down enough to be rational. “I mean, even beyond you and your mom and Emily, there’s Luke and Lane’s husband and a whole host of other guys who can step up. Hell, Kirk in all his weird glory has probably got some qualification to adopt her. And you know I’ll be here, as long as you want me to be.”

“Yeah?” Rory’s throat is still clogged, but she’ll take it as a win that she didn’t sniffle. It’s too significant a moment to mar that way. 

“What can I say, she’s cute enough to hold my attention.”

“You always were a sucker for a Gilmore,” she laughs, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, well, someone’s got to make sure you’re aware vegetables exist.”

And just like that, even as Rory’s tears are still dissipating, the mood is lifted into safer territory. That’s Jess, though, isn’t it? All that emotion, hidden behind a front of sarcasm. After all of the mistakes of his youth, he’s grown into a man people can count on; he’s proved that these last couple years, as Rory has found herself floundering.

They’ll be lucky to have him in their lives.

———

After that last night on the town with Logan and his friends, Rory expected to never see any of the members of the Life and Death Brigade again. They’ve had their fun together, over the years; Rory will certainly never forget all the crazy shenanigans they all got up to together. But as much as she’s enjoyed their time together, those have always been more Logan’s friends than her own. 

It comes as a surprise, then, when all of them - Finn and Colin and Robert, the three musketeers or three amigos - all make a point to call and text and, eventually, drop by. They’re a little fascinated by the baby, this sudden proof that someone in their sphere really has grown up. As nervous as it makes her at first, to let these crazy, careless men sit in the diner and take a turn carefully holding Ivy, it’s cute and funny to see the way they handle her like some kind of unknown, volatile science experiment. 

It’s funny, really, how differently they all react to the various daddy issues in their life. With Logan, it’s made him eager to live up to Mitchum’s impossible standards, no matter how much he tries to claim otherwise. With the rest of the Brigade, it’s somehow had the opposite effect. They all run away from responsibility whenever it gets too close, and Rory isn’t remotely in denial about that, but they’re somehow desperate to love and be loved, too, all of them. They’ll never be the guys she calls for babysitting, not if she wants Ivy back in one piece, but Rory thinks they could be the fun uncles instead - not a constant presence in Ivy’s life, but the kind of figures who will send a dozen roses and maybe a singing telegram to a kindergarten graduation or gift an impractical car for her sixteenth birthday.

(And in the empty space Logan seems determined to leave - Rory will take whatever she can get.)

———

Jess has been around a lot more than Rory anticipated, really. It’s not that he’s stayed away from Stars Hollow in past years; his life may be based in Philadelphia now, what with Truncheon and all, but she knows he’s made a point to drive up a couple of times a year to see Luke and Liz and his little sister, Doula. Since Rory’s come back to town, though, he seems to be around at least once a month - checking in, offering support with the book or anything else, and generally being a friend. It’s not something Rory’s particularly inclined to question, happy just to have him back in her life, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, either. 

“He’s been around a lot,” Luke comments pointedly. “Know anything about that?”

“He’s helping with the book,” Rory explains wearily. It’s an explanation she’s made a lot of times, to a lot of people, though she never figured Luke - level-headed Luke, who usually runs from gossip and emotions like an Olympic sprinter - would be one of them. 

“Whatever you say, Rory.”

Only the delivery of her burger had stopped a full-blown debate - something Luke had likely known. You don’t live with a Gilmore Girl for a decade without picking up a few tricks. 

(She’s trying not to read too much into it - the way he keeps showing up to sit in an empty desk at the Gazette office and listen to her talk until she works out her own writing blocks - but others apparently don’t have that same compunction. Then again, Luke has never been called subtle .)

By the time Ivy is born, Rory thinks the book is maybe two-thirds of the way done, thanks in large part to Jess’ encouragement. At least halfway, for sure. It’s a different kind of writing than she’s used to, after years of news articles and five-page magazine spreads, but it’s the good kind of challenge. There are days the words just flow out of her, memory mixing with prose to create something wonderful, and there are days she stumbles more. The personal nature of the project accounts for most of her hold-ups. Rory knows what makes for a good story, what will best illustrate the points she’s trying to get across, but it’s about her , and her mom, and all the other people in this crazy town that she loves. There’s not the same distance that she might find if she was writing about post-apocalyptic teens, or whatever other kind of fiction is in vogue these days. 

“Why did I decide to do this?” Rory groans, sitting on the couch in the apartment with Jess and her laptop, watching as Ivy pedals her arms and legs on her playmat on the floor. “Why did you talk me into writing this? This is your fault, you know.”

“Yes, I’m an evil genius forcing you to write a book. Absolute cruelty,” he snarks back. “Talk to me again tomorrow or next week when you figure out what needs to change for your current hurdle to make sense.”

“Why do you have to be the voice of reason?”

Jess’ face is unusually earnest when he turns to look at her - or as least as earnest as Jess ever gets. “Because I know you can do this, Rory. You might be the most determined person I know - if you want to write a book, it’s going to happen. I’m just here to listen to you whine until you’re ready to get back to the grindstone.”

“An invaluable service, really.”

“Damn straight. I’m an expert in that field.”

And he’s right - because a few days later, Rory busts through her block and gets back to flying through sentences and paragraphs. 

(She’d tell him what that kind of encouragement does for her - but then again, he probably already knows.)

———

Rory doesn’t have a regular job, per se, at least not right now; Ivy takes up so much of her time, and in between she’s desperately trying to put her book down on paper. She’s still the editor and primary contributor of the Stars Hollow Gazette, but it’s hard to call that steady work. There’s not enough going on in this little town for that, and most months accounts of the latest town meetings and whatever festival or fundraiser is being held in their little hamlet take up the sparse pages. It’s work that lets her feel like she’s accomplishing something - but in any other circumstance, one where she’s not simultaneously taking care of an infant, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to do, with the skimpy compensation to match.

It’s a shock when she gets a call out of the blue from Headmaster Charleston, asking if she’d like to come back to Chilton to head up a weekly journalism class. Privately, Rory suspects her grandmother of meddling; even if she now lives in Nantucket, content to build a new life and new purpose, Emily’s years of networking and most of her connections still stand, and she’s still not above pulling on those strings for what she believes is the benefit of all. It’s all too easy to accept the offer when she’s not in much of a position to say no. There’s the argument, too, that maybe this will help Rory figure out what she wants to do; perhaps teaching is her real calling.

(Somehow, Rory doubts that.)

As much as she loves Ivy, marvels at all the little changes and developments that come so quickly in these early months, it’s nice to have a standing appointment every Wednesday to get out of the apartment and out of Stars Hollow and put on real pants for a change. Chilton is the same as ever, all tall gothic arches and meticulously pruned shrubs, but somehow it seems less intimidating than it did when she was a student. Not smaller, like all the high school reunion cliches, but less… weighty. It’s no longer some mountain she has to climb like it was back when she was a teenager; it can be just a building and a repository for her memories. 

Rory finds that she likes teaching the class, actually, even if she can’t see herself making a career out of it. It’s nice to keep this just as a side gig, coming to campus once a week, only committed to teaching the one ninety minute class. She knows for certain that she’d go insane if she was committed to teaching three or four periods every day of the week, but this? This is sharing her knowledge and her passion with a small group of students who want to be here, who signed up for this elective on purpose. It’s like revisiting her own time as a student - covering the evolution of the profession and talkabout all the things she wished she knew when she first started at the Yale Daily News. With only one class, too, she doesn’t feel bad about seeking out one of the coffee shops she used to go to, back when she went to Chilton, in order to grade homework without distractions before she has to pick Ivy up from her mom at the Dragonfly.

It’s not her calling - but it’s a nice distraction. 

———

Most afternoons, Rory camps out at one of the tables by the bay window down in the diner with her laptop and tries to write. Tries is the operative word, of course; this is a social town, and not to be too vain, but she’s a popular lady. It’s still easier to take the baby monitor downstairs while Ivy’s napping, as the open floorplan of the apartment makes it difficult to do anything without waking the baby. 

(Yeah, she knows she’s supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps and all that - but clearly, whoever came up with that catchphrase wasn’t trying to write a novel at the same time.)

Today, a quiet Tuesday afternoon at the end of the lunch rush, her distraction has nothing to do with catty townsfolk. Today, Luke roped the visiting Jess into filling in for the usual waitress, and the sight is… something to behold. Jess has filled out since they first met, no longer the skinny, lanky kid she knew in high school; that much has been obvious for the last several years. But there’s something about the rolled up sleeves today, the way his arms keep flexing as he delivers and clears plates, that leaves Rory unable to look away. 

“When did you get built , Mariano?” she teases as he comes around with another coffee refill - still decaf, much to her chagrin, but what are you going to do.

Jess slides into the chair across from her, snagging his own mug off of an empty set table to pour his own cup of the brew. With an exaggerated glance down at his own arm, he shrugs. “Dunno. Took up boxing a couple years ago. Why, you see something you like, Gilmore?” he finishes with that cocky little smirk that’s always made her all fluttery. Some things really haven’t changed over the years. 

“What can I say, I’m a red-blooded American female.” After a moment, the first part of his response catches up to her tired brain. “Wait, you said boxing? Like - ”

Jess groans. “Do not make a Rocky joke, Rory, I swear to God - ”

“I’m just saying, you live in Philadelphia! Maybe you’ve gone native! I mean, I would have pegged you for obnoxious cheesesteak opinions instead of this, but to each his own - ”

“This is not some weird ‘gone native’ thing,” he scoffs. It’s evident he knows she’s teasing him, though, in the way the side of his mouth struggles not to quirk up. It’s nice, reminiscent of the banter they used to toss back and forth. “This is… it’s good exercise, ok? And a much better outlet for my frustrations than whatever self-destructive spirals I used to get into.”

Rory gapes, struck speechless for a rare moment. “Jess Mariano, did you go to therapy ?” 

A little bit of color flushes on his neck, but he otherwise keeps his composure. It’s not that she has anything against him going to therapy - frankly, they’re both prime candidates for a doctor’s couch, regardless of whether they want to admit it. It’s just surprising, somehow, to hear that Jess of all people is seeing someone, talking things out. Good for him, honestly - for the therapy and for being open about it. It’s another sign of how far he’s come since they were still those idiot teenagers. “Heard it was the trendy thing to do these days.”

“And you’re nothing if not a hip lemming, always following the crowd.”

“Yes, that is the one thing that people have always said about me. I’m such a follower.”

Somehow, she can’t help but grin at this, the way they sass each other back and forth. So often these past months, since Ivy was born, Rory has felt too tired to keep up with her usual self, to dish things out with the speed and array of references that she’s used to. It’s a relief to reclaim that, even just for a moment.

Before the moment can blossom any further, Babette waves Jess down from across the diner for her own refill. “Try not to get distracted by the gun show, alright, Rory?” he jabs as he stands up in his dry, teasing voice. “That book won’t write itself.”

(And if she sneaks another handful of glances before she hears Ivy start to fuss on the baby monitor - well, he’s good enough not to mention it.)

———

In a weird way, having Ivy brings Rory’s friendship with Lane into perspective.

Rory doesn’t remember a lot of the first year of Lane’s twins’ lives; the fact of the matter is that she hadn’t been around to make those memories. She only realizes now just how much Lane was on her own - Rory had been off following the Obama campaign, and Zach had been on tour for months at Lane’s insistence. Some days Rory feels like she can barely keep her head above water, and she’s only got the one baby to contend with; it’s a miracle Lane didn’t snap while having to care for two on her own. 

“I really admire you, you know,” Rory tells Lane during a lunch date at the antique shop while Kwan and Steve are at school. Lane sits across the table, same as it ever was, happily making faces at Ivy in her arms. 

“How’s that?” Lane asks.

“Because… I don’t know, I feel like I’m losing myself in the mom-ness of it all some days. I don’t get how you made it through that first year without Zach here most of the time and still stayed… Lane .”

“I mean, I wasn’t fully alone,” Lane points out. “I had my parents. Mom especially. Having her help with the boys really finally healed that relationship, which I’m not sure would have happened otherwise.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But, I mean, you’ve still got the band and you still keep up with all these up and coming music acts and - I don’t know. Maybe this is just baby brain, but I have trouble thinking about all the things I’d normally like to do. Seeing movies and new TV shows and whatever else. It’s like… all the Rory bits of my brain are just being taken over by Ivy bits.”

“It gets better in time,” Lane assures her, shifting Ivy to cover Rory’s hand on the table next to the rice cakes neither have touched. “She’ll get older and more independent, and you’ll have time again to be Rory. Besides, you’re not alone either,” she adds. “Not only do you have your mom and Luke and a whole town of affectionate maniacs, but you’ve got me. You can drop this cutie with me, her godmother, anytime you need a break.”

“Didn’t you reject religion years ago?”

“That’s a good point - but also, I’ve decided it’s not relevant right now.”

———

Motherhood, as a whole, is rewarding. There’s something magical about the way Ivy looks at her and looks like her, something earth shattering about the kind of trust she exhibits every time she smiles or reaches for Rory. It’s purpose, in a way that Rory was never entirely sure that she wanted; now, like every cliche ever written, she can’t imagine life any other way. 

For all of the magical moments, though, there are moments like this - hours and days where Ivy won’t stop crying, refusing to be soothed no matter how long she’s held or how much she’s bounced and swayed. It feels like Rory’s tried everything - the changing, the feeding, the singing, the music, the lighter clothes. Everything. None of it works, not even for a moment, and Rory’s at her wit’s end, practically in tears herself as she bounces around the apartment with her tiny banshee in her arms. 

“Please stop crying, baby,” she pleads, stroking the wisps of reddish fluff at the top of Ivy’s small head. The blonde hair had fallen out at six weeks, much to Rory’s guilty relief, and was growing back in a shade reminiscent of Emily’s natural shade. Not that she can focus on it right now. “I’ll do anything , baby, just… I don’t know what you want. What do you want ?”

Ivy doesn’t answer though, too young for anything but these screams. The never ending screams. The screams that leave Rory feeling more desperate, more on-edge than ever in her life. 

It’s not a great time for someone to knock at the apartment door; frankly, it’s probably a miracle that Rory even hears it. Under more normal circumstances, she might care that Jess sees her like this when she opens the door - unshowered, exhausted, barely holding it together - but she’s reached a point where she’s incapable of caring about anything but stopping the crying. 

“Were we supposed to meet?” she asks, tears rising to the surface as the very prospect proves just one too many things to handle. “I’m so sorry, Ivy’s been fussy all week, I completely forgot - ”

“No, I know,” Jess interrupts. “We didn’t have plans, Luke mentioned you were having a rough week. I figured I’d come up, give you a bit of a break.”

It doesn’t help. “I’m - it’s ok, I can handle this. You think I can’t handle this?” The words come out more frantically than she would have liked, but she’s not thinking straight anymore, and Ivy’s still crying —

“You know I don’t think that, Rory,” he says, in as much as a soothing voice as Jess can muster. He’s never been much for displays of emotion. “I just want to help. Let me take the howler monkey for a couple hours. You can have a shower, get a nap, come back thinking clearer. Alright?”

Her pride demands she say no - to not ask for help. It’s a streak so reminiscent of her own mother. But she’s so tired, and her ears will be ringing from the cries and screams for ages to come, and it’s too tempting an offer to deny. Resignedly, she nods, handing over the baby. “Ok. Yeah, ok, thank you. Let me get you the baby bag, and the carrier, and - ”

“Nope,” Jess interrupts, already starting a half-conscious bounce to try and settle Ivy and waving off all of Rory’s attempts at protest. “Look, I spent a lot of time here way back when, helping Doula make it to her first birthday. I know the drill. You’re veering towards Liz-level crazed, so go take a moment for yourself before it becomes permanent, alright?”

Somehow, Rory finds herself nodding, though she can’t help but try and reclaim a bit of the banter - or a bit of normality, more like. “You can’t really call her a howler monkey, though. She’s not howling yet.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know that screaming monkeys are a thing, so we’ll make do. And the operative term is yet .”

As much as it hurts to admit, he’s right - after a shower and a couple hours’ nap, Rory feels… not quite like a new woman, but at least prepared to enter the fray for another round. Lately, that’s enough of a win. When she wanders back downstairs, Jess sits outside on a park bench with Ivy shaded in her carrier from the worst of the summer sun. His foot absentmindedly rocks the carrier back and forth periodically as he reads a well-worn paperback whose cover she can’t make out. 

He looks up as soon as the bell on the diner door jingles, putting the book aside when he sees Rory stepping down. Blessedly, Ivy’s cries have ceased for the moment. “Don’t get too excited,” Jess cautions her. “Think she just cried herself out for the moment. I’m not remotely confident she won’t start again once she wakes up.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Rory gladly collapses onto the bench beside him, caving to the urge to lean into his body and rest her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for this. I clearly needed it.”

Jess just hums in response at first. They sit in silence for several minutes, just soaking in the day and watching preparations for whatever the carnival of the month might be in the town square, before he finally uses his words. “That’s not your fault, you know,” he assures her. “Babies are just like that. They go through spurts where it’s all crying all the time. You know that, from Lane’s and Paris’ kids.”

“I know,” Rory sighs. “I just didn’t realize how… helpless I’d feel. All the sleep deprivation and parental instinct and everything combining into straight up panic. I just felt like it was something I had to figure out, you know? I mean, this probably isn’t the last time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it on your own. Call your mom, or Lane, or Luke, see if they’ll give you a hand for a couple of hours. Hell, give me a call, I’ll drive up if I have to. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know.” The moment sits between them as Rory processes. He’s right, of course; so often these past years, he’s been the voice of reason when she needs it most. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Not a big deal.”

Rory finally finds the light way out of this, and she takes it. “So, did Miss Patty or Babette happen to see you during your babysitting adventure?”

He groans. “Put it this way: we both should brace for some real creative comments in the next few weeks, and I for one plan to make myself scarce.”

———

She thinks about her grandfather a lot.

Richard had been such a steady figure in her life since the age of 15; for all of the heart and health problems he'd had in that time, he’d always seem invincible. Timeline - like he’d always been there, and would always be there. His death had been a shock, no matter how much it shouldn’t have been. Grandpa had believed in her so strongly too, that she could do anything she set her mind to. Of course, Rory thinks he probably never would have guessed she’d wind up here, after a life with everything so carefully planned.

“What do you think Grandpa would have thought of this?” she asks her grandmother during a more vulnerable moment. Emily’s Nantucket cottage isn’t even remotely as grand as the Hartford house had been, but there’s something more homey about it, and there’s still plenty of room for Rory and Ivy to come stay a few days over the October break. The sea breeze and change of scenery has sparked words in a way Rory hadn’t anticipated, but fully intends to take advantage of, and Emily loves the chance to spend time with her great-granddaughter, even if the ‘great’ makes her nose scrunch up in a very particular way. It aches a little for Rory to watch, knowing her grandmother probably wanted this back when Rory was a baby; then again, knowing the way Emily had wanted to raise Lorelai in their upper crust image, and gladly offered some of those same trappings to Rory, maybe this is for the best. Richard’s death has fractured Emily, but it’s softened her too, as much as that’s possible for Emily - made her loosen up, live in the moment more and worry about appearances less. 

(Emily has offered, more than once and in a way veering towards insistence, to host Rory and Ivy here at the cottage for as long as they liked, but Rory keeps finding ways to turn her down. As much as she understands and accepts Emily’s desire to be involved in her great-granddaughter’s young life in a way she couldn’t be involved in Rory’s for so long, Rory understands, too, all the reasons why Lorelai set out on her own in the first place. She doesn’t quite understand where she’s going right now, but Rory knows that’s something she’ll have to figure out for herself. Emily, for better or for worse, wants the best for those she loves, and has always believed the best is a mirror image of the life she leads. That life now is different in so many ways from the one she was living before Richard died, but the urge is still there - and Rory isn’t sure she’s ready to spend her life in Nantucket, talking about whales. No, for now, a series of short visits is much better.)

“What do you mean?” Emily asks absently, comparing the look of two vases on a sideboard that look entirely identical to Rory. 

“I mean, this probably isn’t where he saw me going. I can’t imagine what he’d think about me writing a book about the way I grew up. I just… do you think he’d be proud of me?”

Her grandmother sets both vases down with a gentleness that is contradictory to the way she crosses to Rory with determination in every movement. “Rory,” she says, placing her hands on Rory’s sweatshirt-clad shoulders, “your grandfather was always proud of you. Always . Even if we didn’t imagine this would be the path you’d take, I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make him anything less than proud, and delighted you were his granddaughter.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. And I feel the same way.” With a last squeeze to Rory’s shoulders, Emily lets go and crosses back to her decorating with a smile. “Of course, after those years teaching, he would have edited your manuscript with a colored pen in hand. I’ll do you the favor of declining that form of editing.”

Rory laughs, knowing her grandmother is right; Richard had loved teaching those econ classes, and had taken to it like a duck to water. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. “I like remembering him like that,” she admits. “Excited to learn and share. I loved having those moments with him.”

Emily smiles fondly, sadly. They’re all slowly learning how to live in a world without him. “I did too.”

———

I want to drink in a bar. My kitchen feels depressing , the text from Paris demands. Let me know your schedule.

(She’s never been much for requests.)

Tact and lack thereof aside, it’s good to see Paris; Rory is more-or-less glad to consider her old schoolmate one of her best friends, inexplicably, but they’ve always both been too busy to really keep up with anything more than the occasional text, conversations often winding up spaced out over the course of several days as both get pulled in every-which direction. Even if Rory doesn’t have the same work demands now, Paris definitely still does. While she’d been an invaluable resource while Rory was pregnant, insisting on providing her with the names of the best doctors out there, they’ve both been too busy with their own lives for more than the occasional call since. This is well overdue - especially with Paris’ kids with Doyle for the week and Ivy at Lorelai’s for the night.

They go out to New Haven and hit the bars around Yale in what is probably some kind of misguided attempt to reclaim their youth. It’s been ten years; they’re obviously not students anymore. But it’s fun to sit in a grimy bar for the night and pretend they’re not thinking about all the terrible terrible substances that have been spilled on every surface. 

They try to keep conversation light, to talk about books Rory’s read lately and Paris’ latest crazy client and all the little milestones their children are hitting. Albums they want to listen to and movies they want to see. Paris’ lengthy opinions about the bars near her in New York. All the little nothings that somehow form a lasting friendship. Maybe it’s the venue, though, or maybe it’s just an inevitability, but somehow they find themselves talking men over a third drink like they’re 22 again.

“I miss Doyle,” Paris confesses. “I miss my Doyle, not this cool screenwriting asshole he wants to turn into. He was a neurotic bastard, but he was my neurotic bastard, you know?”

“That’s the best description of Doyle I’ve heard in years,” Rory replies, examining her drink. It’s a garish blue - something that had seemed fun half a glass ago, but just seems questionable now. “So what, then - you guys going to get back together?”

“I don’t know. I mean, obviously I can’t bring that up. He’s the one who changed and suggested the stupid separation, he’s gotta be the one to fix it.”

(Rory isn’t entirely sure that’s how it works, but she knows better than to get into it with Paris when she’s stubborn about something.)

“What about you, though?” she continues, flagging down the bartender for a refill of her cosmo. “You aren’t still going to try and mend things with Logan, are you?”

“God no. I mean, obviously there’s love there, or there was, but that’s over. He’s not really… ready for all of this. Growing up in a way that doesn’t mean just following in his father’s footsteps.”

“I never really liked him, you know.”

Rory snorts. “Bullshit. You loved the banter.”

Paris toasts a concession. “Fine. But I never liked him after the bridesmaids debacle.”

“Fair enough.”

Rory thinks that’s it, as Paris reaches for the nachos on their appetizer platter. Well, not quite an appetizer platter; they’d just ordered all the finger food that was available and let it take up most of the table. Paris is full of surprises, though. “What about Jess?”

Rory tries not to accidentally inhale an ice cube. “What about Jess?”

“I mean, he’s been around, right? And looking hotter than ever.”

“Oh my god , Paris.”

“What? I’m just saying. No one would blame you. Or, you know, be surprised about you getting back together with your high school love who just happens to be an author. That’s better than any shitty script Doyle could come up with, even if it is a bit trite. I mean, he’s there all the time. And he’s still got that hair, right?”

“It is good hair,” Rory admits. Probably a sign she needs to switch to water. “Can we drop this, please? Nothing is going to happen.”

“If you say so, Gilmore.”

( Did you know that Paris has a thing for your hair? she texts after the fourth drink - in hot pink this time. 

What can I say, she’s a woman of taste , he responds.)

(And if Paris shoots her a smug look from the bar - well, she’d drunk texted Doyle too, so she has no room to judge.)

———

Some nights, they do nothing more than sit in the darkened diner with leftover pie and a coffee or beer, chatting the night away. It feels like old times, back when they were just a couple of idiots. It’s nice to pretend for a couple hours that they’re still those teenagers, and not a single mom still trying to figure out where she’s going and an acclaimed author ignoring his next deadline. There’s an irony, she thinks, to the situation they find themselves in now - he, the man who has it all together, and her, an increasingly hot mess. It’s not how anyone would have expected they’d end up. 

She mentions it to him one night, only for Jess to snort in amusement. “Ok, you are not a hot mess,” he tells her. “Not even close.”

“You sure about that? Because it sure feels like my life is a disaster most days.”

“I’ve seen hot mess Rory,” he tells her. “This isn’t it. You go big or go home. Last time you descended to a genuine hot mess, you stole a fucking yacht .”

“It wasn’t a yacht, it was a boat,” Rory mumbles in protest, even as she smiles behind her mug of decaf. 

“It was a yacht, and you know it. You stole it from a marina that wouldn’t accept anything as mundane as a boat . I can break out the dictionary if you want, but you know I’m right. My point is ,” he plows ahead before she can interrupt, “you are not nearly the disaster you think you are right now. This is just… a stumbling block. You’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll have to,” Rory replies with a sly grin. “No yachts to steal in Stars Hollow.”

(As much as she may laugh it off, and he may let her, it strikes Rory’s heart in some particular way to hear the confidence Jess has in her, the way he’s so quick to assure her that she’s not entirely off track and adrift - that this is just a detour. There’s something different about hearing it from him, and not from her mother or grandmother. Jess always seems to be the one to steer her back on track - and this seems to be just another case.)

———

Rory has never been one of those obnoxious new year, new me! types, but she’s veering dangerously close this time. After a year of so much change and uncertainty, it feels like a chance to turn over a new leaf and rediscover so much of the direction that she’s lost. 

Though it feels like she still might jinx it, it feels like things are finally coming back together. Chilton has contracted her to teach her class in the spring semester again, and she’s picked up some work writing book reviews for an online publication. That feels a little like coming back to her roots, in a way - she started at a little online setup, and now, after years of chasing glossy magazines and newsprint, she’s back here again. But the assignment is enjoyable, and money is money - especially since she’s got her eye on a small house for rent near where Lane lives, in a neighborhood of quaint bungalows. She’ll always be grateful to Luke for his generosity in letting her live above the diner for so long, but it’s not workable long term. Ivy is growing every day; while Rory’s homecoming back to Stars Hollow has brought into focus that this is the place she wants to raise her daughter, they both need more space. Ivy deserves her own room, maybe a backyard to run around in, and Rory deserves a door she can close while her baby is napping. 

Most exciting of all, Rory finishes her book in early February. At least, in the moment, it feels most exciting of all - it’s been months of blood, sweat and tears, but it’s done . There’s a feeling of relief as the last period hits the page, even if she consciously knows there’s still so much editing to do. Writing the book, about her and her mom and the way they’ve lived, had been emotionally draining and emotionally freeing all at once, and calling it finished feels like an accomplishment like she hasn’t found professionally in so long. 

The next time Jess drives up to town, Rory practically dances around the kitchen in anticipation, waiting for him to knock on the door. There had been so many people who supported her during this weird time in her life, and then when she decided to write this book, but Jess sits high on that list. The idea had originated with him, and he’s prodded and encouraged her the whole way; it feels right that he see it first, even if he’s made her promise this whole time to shop it around to bigger publishing houses instead of just asking him and Truncheon to publish it. 

“Someone’s happy,” he comments when she opens the door with a huge grin. “Do I even want to know, or did your mom share another convoluted sex joke?”

“You’re going to want to hear this,” Rory promises. “And no, it’s not a joke. Sexual or otherwise. Close your eyes.”

Jess rolls his eyes first, but he complies and even smiles a bit. For full dramatic effect, Rory had printed the book onto real paper - dozens and hundreds of pages, all off the Gazette office’s ancient printer over the course of a day that she’ll probably wind up paying for in some way later. It’s worth it , to stand here with all those pages in a binder clip with a red pen. With a final flutter of nerves, she shoves it all into his chest.

Jess’ arms close around her offering on instinct; his eyes open to actually see what’s going on a second later. Looking at the pages in his arms, comprehension dawns slowly, and his own rare grin spreads. “You finished your book?”

“I finished the book!” Rory squeals, not caring nearly as much as she should about disturbing her currently quiet daughter.

Uncharacteristically, Jess sweeps her into a hug - a big, swooping thing where her feet leave the floor and he spins her about a bit. Those arm muscles, you know. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. “This is amazing . You’re a genius, Rory.”

“You haven’t read it yet,” she laughs as he sets her back down. “It could be absolute trash. I could have slandered your good name. I could have —”

“Yeah, but I know you didn’t. You’re Rory Gilmore. Obviously it’s going to be great.”

There’s a moment there, where he looks at her with pride and awe and so much shared joy that Rory thinks it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him. And maybe it’s the moment, the adrenaline, but she wants that. Not letting herself think too much, she starts inching upwards, as he starts inching down —

And then Ivy shrieks from her playpen - a happy sound, likely picking up on the joy bouncing around the room, but enough to shatter the moment.

“I’d better check on her,” Rory says weakly. “But go nuts. Tear it apart, tell me what I need to fix. I want to hear what you think.”

“Included the pen and all,” he tosses back. If Rory’s not mistaken, his voice is a little uneven. Did she do that? God, she did that. She can’t do that.

So, like so many times before - Rory bolts to avoid talking about what just almost happened. 

(Even if it’s just to the other side of the room.) 

———

“What should I do?” Rory begs her mom in the aftermath, pacing back and forth in the living room while Lorelai scrolls through online sewing patterns. She’s never been entirely confident in affairs of the heart anyways, having maneuvered herself into a mess a few too many times - with everyone but Jess, that is. Maybe that’s why she needs advice so badly; not only is there Ivy to consider, but her and Jess’ relationship is the last one she hasn’t outright screwed up yet. 

“Well, what do you want to do?” Lorelai asks. Like a normal, reasonable person, who also maybe hasn’t had to think about this for the past ten years since she figured out her soulmate was right in front of her face. Rory’s never been so frustrated with Luke than in this moment, knowing he made the kind of commiseration she’s looking for impossible. 

“I wanted to kiss him!”

“Then you should! Next time you see him and the moment is right!”

“But I can’t!”

Lorelai dramatically closes the laptop. “Are we circling? I feel like we’re circling. Why are you asking for advice if you know what you supposedly can or can’t do?” When that produces no useful response, she plows forward. “Okay, new tactic. Why can’t you?”

Rory sighs. “I just feel like… I’ve barely got things figured out, you know? And he does. I don’t want to fuck things up for him. My life right now is a mess .”

“Ok, I’m going to stop you right there. If he thinks you and Ivy being in his life is anything less than a damn miracle, then there’s your answer, that’s my opinion, do not pass go, do not move forward with this.”

“But it’s Jess.”

“Right, it’s Jess. And as much as it might pain for me to admit, I have gotten to know Jess a lot more in the past few years since he got his act together, and I have trouble believing he’s that particular brand of asshole. That guy’s been around, and happy to be here, since the moment you moved back home. Job or no job, kid or no kid.”

“But what do I do with that?” Rory whines. 

Her mom sighs. “With full awareness of me, queen of avoidance, telling you this - you talk to him, Ror. I know you’ve got plenty of words, my darling daughter, my mini me, my legacy. Use them, for the love of all things holy. Comprende?” Rory nods, not capable of much else. Especially when the solution is supposedly so simple. “Cool. Now sit down and convince me that I have enough on my plate and don’t need to try making baby clothes even if they really are stinking cute and the whole matched ruffle trend in the kids stores drives me nuts.”

———

When Lorelai suggested that Rory and Jess talk, she probably imagined a calm, planned, adult conversation. For better or worse, though, this is Rory - that was never going to happen. So instead of easing into the topic carefully, she blurts out it out in the diner, the last night before Jess drives back to Philadelphia in the morning. 

“I want to talk about what happened the other day,” she all but demands when Jess gets up to make more coffee. 

His steps falter with the carafe in hand, before moving again to get fresh water. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, I mean… we almost kissed.”

“I know. I was there.”

“So what does that mean? ”

That finally gets him to set the container down, bracing both hands on the counter. “I don’t know Rory. I don’t know. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t feel something, because I do, but you are… You’ve been through a lot this year, and I don’t know that I want to be the guy that you latch onto because you’re lonely and I’m here. I don’t think I can do that.”

Rory is struck speechless for a moment at the very idea. She’d never even thought of that; these feelings have been percolating in her for so long, but she’s never given him any indication of that. Of course he thinks this is coming out of nowhere. “Jess…”

“If you want to be something, give this a second shot, yeah, of course. I’m there, I’m all in. I’m your guy. But I want you to be sure about that, Rory. I… I haven’t been yearning or pining or carrying a torch or any other bullshit you’d find in a romance novel, but I figured out a long time ago that I like my life with you in it. I like that I get you and you get me. I love your kid and I mostly like your mom. So I’m sure. But if this is just because I’m available and here —”

“But don’t you see? That’s part of the point!” Rory interrupts. “I mean, you’re making it sound like such a bad thing, but that fact that yeah, you’re here - that’s huge . And it’s not the whole reason I want to get into this, but - I mean, you’ve been supporting me through this book. You are entirely unphased by the fact that I have a kid with someone else who isn’t here. You’ve got this faith me I still don’t fully understand, and… Yeah, I want this. I want this because you’re a more mature version of that brilliant, sarcastic bastard I fell in love with as a teenager, but I want it too because you want to be here.” She finally pauses for breath. “Does that make sense?”

Jess nods silently. Nothing more.

Time to babble - by far the worst trait she inherited from her mom. “So… is any of that a deal breaker? Because honestly, I wouldn’t blame you, that was definitely a lot to dump all at once. But also, you should know what you’re getting into, you have almost fifteen years of experience listening to me word vomit, so if you didn’t think that’d continue —”

In the time that she runs her mouth, Jess crosses back to her side. “Would you just… shut up for two minutes?”

And he kisses her - takes her face between his hands and brings their mouths together, like she’s fantasized about more than she’d like to admit. It’s like falling back in time in the best way, relearning the shape of each other’s lips and the way they fit together. No chicken pecks here. Rory gladly twines her arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible as his hands readjust, one sliding back into her hair as the other drops to grasp at her hip. When he gently nips at her top lip, she can’t help but giggle - giggle, like a teenager again! - before diving back in to deepen the kiss. Like so many things with Jess, this feels right , like they’ve been leading back to it forever. 

They finally break apart only when Rory becomes aware of the fact that they’re still in the closed diner, perfectly in view of the darkened street.

“As good as you remember?” she asks cheekily.

Jess leans his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “Better.” They take a moment just to enjoy the shared space before he continues. “Any regrets?”

Rory smiles. “None. I’m sure. I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

And for the first time in forever - she knows that’s true. 

[tornrose24]

My Lordsona’s letters, diary entries, and journal entry in Mother Miranda’s Lab.

I remembered that in each of the lords’ areas, there tends to be letters/journal entries/notes that are either about them or that they wrote themselves in addition to what Mother Miranda wrote about each one in her lab. I thought it would be fun to make some for my lordsona as a way to add additional information (including what could have lead to getting a cadou in the first place, because I don’t think those are given out so freely).

There is mentions of  @artistcaptainbendy‘s lordsona Bendypants and their OC Benjamin.

TW: Mentions of gore

(All journal entries located in personal studio in the gallery. Some would hold clues to solving certain puzzles.)

Journal 1

May 3rd, 1968

(page 1)

I would rather swim in Moreau’s lake and be subjected to whatever goes on in Donna’s estate than give another art lesson to Alcina’s girls. She hoped I could cultivate some talent in the three of them, and there was some promise in both Cassandra and Daniela. Bela seemed disinterested and wanted to go to the piano instead. There was some frustration over the past few weeks and it made me thankful I’m their ‘aunt’ or else it wouldn’t have ended well for me.

Weeks later, they presented me with some abominable displays. That one ‘statue’ looked like one of the maids... or what was left of the poor woman. And I doubt that was red paint used on that canvas.

I don’t mind speaking with Alcina herself once in awhile when I want a bit of class and elegance. There’s certainly no denying her sense of taste in decor and her collection of artwork is incredible. But her daughters are too much for me and I don’t agree on her views of all men. She certainly never met my father or my...

(page 2)

Father....

Sorry, I got lost in my memories there for a bit. Tomorrow I am meeting with some of the village children and will give them an art lesson. They are more of a delight compared to those poor excuses for children in that castle.

They admire the other lords, but its possibly for the best that they aren’t allowed to get too close to them.

Reminder to self: Check to see if the Duke has any works of art to add to the gallery when he comes back.

Journal 2

September 2nd 1975

(Page 1)

It appears I finally have a new security guard. The bastard and a friend of his thought he could sneak into MY gallery and steal a painting that I said would cost a fortune. They fell victim to the Escher trap (clearly they didn’t pay attention to his surroundings) and the painting was destroyed.

All that trouble for a Van Gough replica that’d be worth not even a fraction of the true painting.

But then again, what should I have expected from the son of the drunkard who nearly paralyzed me for life with a bullet to the spine and sent me into Mother Miranda?

The man was completely brain dead. The friend was a bloodied mess, but I stitched his arms to the thief, added some details of my own, did a bit of fixing up, and used a Cadou. He’s dull as a rock and doesn’t recall his past life, but he’ll be good at protecting my gallery from other idiots. 

I call him David after the famous statue.

September 5th, 1975

(Page 2)

Unsurprisingly, Heisenberg thought my creation was, and I quote ‘a hunk of shit and dumbassery mixed together’ and said he could have done so much better. Unlike him, MY creations ARE true works of art. Of course I’m not interested in getting into an argument with him as he enjoys doing so with Alcina.

I brought David to someone else who’d be fascinated with him. Bendypants seemed intrigued and wondered if I could lend David to them to help build a set.

I’m deeply disturbed that I’ve sunk as low as the others. I didn’t think I’d actually use a cadou but I try to tell myself that what I’ve done was a fitting punishment. Besides, it keeps Mother Miranda off my back for a bit.

Note to self: Need to do something about the additional arms on David. They don’t look like they are as secure as I would like them to be.

October 10th, 1975

(Page 3)

It turns out David developed a soft spot for Benjamin. As in Bendypants’ favorite lycan. He’s been looking at him like a girl harboring a secret crush.

That was.... rather unexpected. I guess David isn’t as dull as I thought. I need to keep an eye on him in case he remembers anything about his former life.

Journal 3

January 20th, 2004

(Page 1)

Karl is crude and a bit much at times. But there’s no denying that he’s rather handsome and I finally was able to convince him to pose for some sketches for a painting after all these years. It took the finest bottle of whiskey the Duke had on hand to convince him.

Bendypants will be so envious of me. They too have a certain soft spot for our fellow lord. Perhaps I can gift them with a replica painting as a present in the future.

I admire that Heisenberg doesn’t bother putting on airs like Alcina and his.... extraverted nature is a breath of fresh air. However the whiskey caused him to spill something rather concerning. He seemed unusually interested in my family’s plot of land in the graveyard.

I’m very concerned about what his intentions are.

(Page 2)

I just paid the gravekeeper to unearth the remains of my family so I can burn them and bury them under the oak tree.

I am NOT letting any of the lords use my family’s remains for whatever they are planning.

March 15th, 2010

(Page 3)

Bendypants invited me to one of their plays. It was ‘A Midsummer Nights Dream.’ It was a delight and helped me take my mind off things. The idea of making some of the characters not quite fit into certain norms that are expected in the village would have made Mother Miranda squirm.

I showed them that painting of Ophelia drowning when we discussed Shakespeare the next day. Sometimes I wonder why the cadou didn’t make me lose my mind like Ophelia–would I have been happier without my sanity in the village, amongst the others? At least I wouldn’t have been aware of what sins I would be committing across the years.

I have deeply cherished my friendship with them. They were there at the funerals for each family member of mine who died. Their condolences were honest compared to the other lords and those who were trying to kiss up to me. Like me, they too have somehow defied time’s cruelty to the body, and have known the loss of a loved one. 

(Page 4)

The children are the only others in the village that I am fond of and would protect. Such innocence to the violence hidden in the corners. Sometimes I wish to give into the desire of motherhood, but that would have been the greatest pain I could experience....

(letter hidden in Lord Bendypants’ theater) 

Dearest B,

Regardless of what Miranda tells us lords, you are the only true family I have left in this forsaken village. I would have never imagined that wild, mud covered child of the woods would be the one person I could trust.

That woman never was and will NEVER be my mother. Regardless of what she gave to me, I had to watch my family succumb to old age and sickness while I still remain as I am–a Venus forever frozen in youth and beauty. I hope she burns in hell for her sins and for what she has turned me into across the years.

I suspect that whatever she wants with the infant she kept mentioning is not going to end well for us or the village. She is charismatic, but her lack of true warmth makes me uneasy. I get the feeling that death is certain, but as to who for is not clear yet. I have two requests for you if my suspicions are correct.

First, I am going to see if I can hide any children I can find. They were one of the few things that made me happy here and do not deserve whatever Miranda has planned, so I shall sneak them in a room within my gallery. Please do not let any of your lycans harm the children or attack me tomorrow night. Should things go according to plan, they will be able to have the true freedom that was denied to all of us.

Secondly, should I perish from whatever Miranda has in store, retrieve my body, burn it, and bury it under THAT oak tree where I placed the ashes of my family. I think I finally know for sure who was getting into the graves lately, but I will be damned if I let that asshole take my body too.

I will never forget our times together, or the visits to your wonderful theater. Thank you for being there when I needed it the most.

Your friend,

-R

(Journal in Miranda’s lab)

Subject Name: _______ Rose

Cadou Affinity: Somewhat Favorable

Brain Function: Normal

Subject’s spinal chord was damaged by a gunshot wound three days before procedure. Subject has regained full mobility after cadou implantation. Six horn like protrusions have grown out of subject’s skull, yet subject hasn’t suffered any damage to the brain.

Subject’s arms mutate into an armor and bone fragments extend out of limbs like thorns that are strong enough to tear through flesh when provoked. These abilities are somewhat similar to Alcina’s but pales in comparison to what she is capable of.

Insect-like wings extend right out of subject’s backside when the subject wills them to, yet immense pain makes this a rarity. The placement of the wings is exactly where a small piece of cadou was implanted to repair the damaged spine. Additional procedures were required to ensure that the subject could not be able to fly beyond the village borders.

Further mutation turns the subject into something resembling a fae, yet behaves and moves like an insect. However it takes the subject four hours to change back. Subject also becomes predatory in this state.

An unfit vessel for Eva.

[bottlecapbaby]

You know, your Gage breeding post brought up a good point, as a new mom Fem!Sole would have some baby weight on her. So how do think the other companions and raider bosses would react to a doughy Sole?

Cait: Cait thinks its cute as fuck that Sole’s all doughy and squishy. She’s constantly pinching and teasing on her, but it’s really all in good fun. She kinda wishes she had some more meat on her sometimes, more padding for falls if nothing else.

Curie: Curie is also a serial cheek-pincher, and will remark on how “Madame is so cute and, what was the word you said? Squishy?” If Sole ever asked for her medical opinion on it in all seriousness, she would think that Sole looks much healthier than most wastelanders, chub and all. Better to have a bit of fat that malnourished.

Danse: Danse is not gonna say anything, but he is gonna look at the chub when it’s peaking out, or when Sole changes. And he’s gonna say to himself its because he wants them to get into better shape and he’s scolding them internally, but really? He kinda likes it. He’s a bit of a chubby chaser, and he thinks the motherly look is kinda hot.

Deacon: Doesn’t say a word, not even an implication. He has absolutely no room to talk when it comes to people’s looks, he knows that. And he’s more sensitive than he lets on, he’s a little scared to strike a sensitive subject. But all in all, he doesn’t see anything wrong with some nice dough.

Hancock: As someone who has his fair share of leathery skin, he’s almost envious. When he gets high, that’s when he’ll start opening his big mouth about it though, about how his eyes could follow those curves for days, his hands too, if she’d let him. Upon sobering up, if he remembers all the shit he said… he might want her to euthanize him.

Gage: at first he’s a little skeptical of their battle prowess, afraid Sole is too soft in more ways than one. Over time, this gets disproven and she takes the parks, and without those hang ups Gage starts looking at her ample features a little differently. Let’s just say he’s down with the thickness ;)

MacCready: He thinks it’s darling. Won’t say anything about it, but he likes it, especially if he knows it’s baby weight. After Lucy, he kinda has a thing for that look, and it’s fucking hard to come by in the nuclear apocalyptic wasteland. He’s hoping Sole doesn’t lose it too fast.

Nick Valentine:To be honest, it makes him a little sad. To see the plumpness along with the stretch marks, it reminds Nick that Sole is a mother, and that her baby is gone. He’s a sympathetic guy, the classic hardened PI type, he gets really invested in the problems of others.

Old Longfellow:He thinks it looks daaammmnnn fine to be quite honest. He’s another meat lover, and boy is the meaty type rare as fuck these days. It’s very easy to catch him staring, because he’s not going to try to hide it even a little bit. Call it the price for his companionship.

Piper: Yet another cheek-pincher. Piper can be a bit touchy feely compared to a lot of the other companions, and you bet she’ll be cruisin’ for hugs even stronger when you got that doughy figure. The softness, the warmth, it's so perfect! ‘Specially since Nat is getting to that age where she thinks hugs are embarrassing n stuff.

Preston: Sole’s baby weight makes him kinda envious, not of the overall experience of the miracle of motherhood, more about how nice it must have been to have pre-war food security. Things people would literally kill for now Sole could’ve gotten at a local corner store, or even just had in the fridge. What a novelty, wanting an item of food, and having it be accessible.

X6-88: he thinks a lot about how this is the body that carried Father, that so much can be born of a single person, so much history dependent upon whether or not a baby is safely carried. He thinks of the butterfly effect. How something as small as a sip of wine over 200 years ago could have undone his entire existence.

Mason: He loves the meat on Sole. To him it means she’s well fed, able to provide, strong and healthy. And carrying a baby successfully once means she could do it again, maybe. To him it’s just another addition to her resumé, not that he knows what the fuck a resumé is. Just makes him want to make her his mate even more.

Nisha: Quite frankly, when she sees a yield of flesh, under any circumstance, she thinks about what it would look like if someone carved into it. Nothing personal, that’s just how she operates. But she may or may not be thinking of how her fingers could sink into that fat, instead of a blade.

Mags & William: Mags doesn’t like to show weaknesses, but she does have some, and her current secret is that she thinks Sole’s baby chub is… cute. Very cute. And William, sole keeper of her secrets, has to listen to her crow about it after ever meeting between the two of them.

[yarrowleef]

Read Darkness Within all in one sitting last night and then passed out so here are my scattered thoughts i wrote down as i read, (afterthoughts in parenthesis)

Darkness Within Spoilers, obv

UGH GOD THE SECOND HAND EMBARRESMENT FROM SQUIRREL FAKE FLIRTING WITH ASHFUR IT HURTS

Just remembered Sandynose died and got a small boost of happiness (will Hawkwing and Plumwillow ever be allowed to talk again now? I mean probly not b/c they aren’t protags and non-protags don’t rly have friends but I can hope. Sorry, Hawkwhing and Plumwillow’s short-lived friendship in Hawkwings Journey was one of the last times I felt something)

Ghost fleas lol

Mothwing: i’m rude now. (but more importantly, Fuck Tigerheartstar for forcing his son to be around the cat that hurt him so badly, like he HAS to know how upset everyone is regarding Shadowsight and his accidentally helping the imposter, and he’s making him be the sole one to tend to him??? There is NO REASON Puddleshine couldn’t have done it. You think Puddleshine is going to try and murder someone?? )

Oh no don't make this a traveling book, and a ROOTBRISTLE traveling book this is going to be insufferable

BACON AND EGGS

Lightleap Is Good (Hey didn’t Shadowsight have another sister? lets be real we all knew Pouncekit was going to end up as the forgettable 3rd one)

Bristlefrost’s crush continues to feel unnatural to me. It’s like she’s grasping at straws romanticizing the most generic things.....wow....I love how ur just so...bare minimum competent....being polite to the loner we came all this way to ask for help like any somewhat reasonable person would....How admirable...I love the way you just *clenches fist* exhibit some basic traits of loyalty and skill that literally every warrior has (I s2g I’m this close to head canon-ing Bristle as a clueless aromantic who doesn't understand what romance is actually suppose to feel like so she just looks at feelings of low-bar admiration and assumes “oh I guess this is that “romantic attraction” everyone’s always talking about? guess I must be in love???” because both her crushes have felt out of nowhere and like. Idk fake/forced sounding like she’s just telling me that that she’s In Love Now while I continue to not actually feel it at all from her end. I know it’s just that I hate the way Erin’s write female characters in love but this head-canon makes me laugh)

Got scared because I thought they were going to villainize Spotfur for not wanting kits for a minute, but also excited at the concept of maybe exploring a female character that doesn’t want to be a mother, but it turns out she was just pulling a Sparkpelt and actually DID want the kits all along and was only hesitant because she’s sad. Shrug oh well.  (the only female character in warriors that was distinctly upset about pregnancy and motherhood was Lizardstripe and as we all know she was eeeeeevil and abusive and “overly ambitious” because why else would you not come around to being happy about motherhood?? YES I’M STILL SALTY ABOUT YELLOWFANG’S SECRET, BAD BOOK)  Whatever it’s fine so long as Spot doesn’t lose her rebel leader spirit forever and default to “soft mom” personality for the rest of her life, I gotta have hope because I actually like Bristle and Spot’s current relationship. Also I am actually very grateful they never made Bristle resentful at Spot for getting with her crush, as lots of middle grade/YA media has a very bad habit of demonizing female romantic “competition” and its super gross, so I rly do like that Bristlefrost is so protective and caring towards her instead. )

This series is trying to tell me that Rootspring is actually Big but I refuse to accept that. he has dumb scrawny bitch energy and we all know it

Sunrise: “Thunderclan may be better with a new leader” lol go off (i mean........they right tho...It’s unfortunate that the tension in this whole plot is a bit dampened by the fact that i DO in fact want bramble to die v badly. I don’t even have special hatred for him, I’m just bored of him.)

Yes Lionblaze beat the shit out of Ashfur

*HOLY SHIT THAT’S FUCKED!!!! (I wrote this in reference to the ghost summoning scene, this was all I could manage at the time, that scene was WILD and I am VIBING WITH THE HORROR OF IT ALL)

* Brashfur: Oh yeah? Could Ashfur fake THIS? *stands up with slightly better posture* Shadowsight: oh damn you got me there...... (asdfhhfhhgh im sorry that was really funny, how did that prove anything?? ONLY A ~REAL~ WARRIOR COULD STAND UP STRAIGHT WE ALL KNOW ASHFUR IS INCAPABLE OF GOOD POSTURE!)

End of the book: *LAUGHING NERVOUSLY* WHAT THE FUCK??? (I thought he was just gonna kill Squirrelflight right there holy shit can you imagine the RIOTS that would ensue in the wake of all this Squirrel/Bramble discourse I was so scared for a second.  

 But it’s fine, she just....went to super hell instead......Warriors has come so far lmao WHAT IS HAPPENING

Final Notes:

*On Mothwing, I don’t think her behavior struck me as “CHARACTER BUTCHERING” as much as it did for other people? I mean.....Warriors fans will say that literally any time a character does ANYTHING less then perfectly nice I think her actions just seemed that much harsher because we are reading from Shadowsight’s POV, and Shadowsight is taking everything 10x more personally right now (understandably so, but Mothwing isn’t inside his head) she wasn’t trying to hurt him. Also... like... Shadowsight DID get his name too early. It’s not Mothwing’s job to put his feelings above everything else, she’s not even his mentor, Puddleshine on the other hand, as his main mentor, I don’t understand what his deal is ignoring Shadowsight, that’s not how you help an apprentice but I suppose I chalk many of his mistakes up to also not being the most experienced medicine cat (he barely even had his own mentor.) Maybe he’s distant because he feels guilty and actually blames himself for not guiding Shadowsight better?? the two of them haven’t communicated about it yet so idk

 any way I give Mothwing a pass to be a little short tempered right now as a cat who has had her abilities periodically questioned all her life no matter how hard she works or how much experience she has, just because she doesn’t vibe with the spiritual cult side of the clans, I can understand why she’s a bit defensive of being questioned and frustrated watching so much hurt happen Yet Again due to reliance on StarClan visions over common sense, and I for one still stan her for slandering StarClan and refusing to accept Mistystar’s bullshit banishing like everyone else. Sometimes a character is at the end of their rope and can’t manage to be 100% nice 24/7 and that’s maybe not inherently bad writing? idk just my hot take. At a certain point we all gotta reckon with the fact that our perception of most popular supporting characters in heavily colored by fanon and we can’t always get mad at the authors for not adhering to it

*The sisters magic shit is my fav worldbuilding warriors has had in AGES, I love the way it’s described and it actually feels like it adds something to this world. I love this horror imagery with the ghosts, very excited for that. 

*still won’t be thrilled if Ashfur is working alone, because his motive doesn’t make sense right now. I mean the trying to get Squilf thing, sure, whatever, but the “I will make everyone pay for what they did to me”???? cause like?? Who??? they didn’t do anything to him?? Ashfur’s grievance was very specifically JUST Squilf. He has no other cause for revenge, he had no other beef or complaints about the clans to my knowledge? The cat that killed him is dead, and she’s like, the only other one that I could see as having “wronged” him?? I guess he also didn’t like Firestar much according to Graystripe’s Vow (and on account of how willing he was to kill him w/ Hawkfrost) but Firestar is ALSO dead. I don’t understand his angle. Will have to see last 2 books to judge i suppose.

*All in all I am interested to see where this is going!! but also the pacing as I feared is becoming a major issue. It’s better then ending the main conflict on book 3 like Vision of Shadows did, but omg. Hardly anything happened in all these pages. I realized I was over half way through and nothing about the situation had actually CHANGED or advanced at all in all that time. Similar to the past 2 books which I believe could have been combined, this plot felt like it should have been the first half of a book. Discussing whether or not to kill the imposter isn’t much of a standalone plot, it’s just the set up to a plot. Finding the sisters didn’t need to be a whole long thing, the debates about the Imposters fate didn’t need to be repeated 10 times, all those chapters illustrating that “Shadowsight is sad” were also drawn out, repetitive, and interchangeable, we probably only needed 2 or so chapters showing his struggles to get the necessary information across. It felt like a lot of padding, it was really slow and I did a lot of skimming. I am still very interested in the overarching plot and mystery behind the ghosts so that kept me reading but man this “will they won’t they kill him” plot did not justify it’s own whole book. Alas this is a persisting issue that will never be resolved while they continue to force 6 books into 1 series that doesn’t need 6 books. I’m sure the writers are doing the best they can with these unfortunate constraints but still, it’s a wonder this slow padding isn’t more of a detriment to their younger readers that the books are supposed to be marketed to.