#near and dear to me. literally my divorced fathers.

[onefey]

did u know hardenshipping was probably the first time i looked at a pair of rivals and went "oh that's gay as hell, huh." well now u know.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: When in Rome, wait wut?; The Reboot Nobody Fucking Asked For"

*after two incidences with his sons, Zeus has recruited Hades and Poseidon to investigate why the living hell was so distracting about Rome*

Zeus: *poorly disguised as a shepard* Well, it is a mighty fine city indeed. It's almost comparable to Athens. Don't you think so?

Poseidon: *also poorly disguised as the world's most muscular fisherman* It is dear brother! Why even our statues here are incredibly beautiful!

Hades: *who's cleverly disgusted as an old lady* hmf.

Poseidon: What's the matter Hades? Disgruntled that you don't have a shrine dedicated to you?

Hades: No quite frankly I actually don't care about shrines or temples in my honor. *Looks around and sees the same issues that the Bois saw* .....why do the mortals here call me Pluto?

Zeus and Poseidon: *both laugh at that*

Hades: Hahaha, laugh all you want.

Centurion: YOU TWO! How DARE you laugh at that poor, ugly old crone! You're under arrest for harassing the elderly!

Hades: *grins*

Zeus: *having absolutly none of this BS* .......

Poseidon: Ugh but sir we-

Centurion: *takes out cuffs and chains, FuCkInG puts them on Zeus and Poseidon* You're coming downtown! *Drags the both of them*

Zeus: *glares into space completely understanding why his sons tried to destroy Rome*

Poseidon: But sir! You can't just thrown people in jail for laughing!

Centurion: *in a completely casual tone* I deeply sorry sir but as of late there has been a zero tolerance policy throughout the city, orders say we MUST make an immediate arrest and put you through the identification process.

Hades: *still as an old crone clicks heels and walks away to sight see*

*later*

Mortus: *looming in the dark corner of the interrogation room, walks slowly to the table and slams his fist*.....where were you on the day of the Coliseum's destruction... And if you weren't there where were you on the day of its reopening?

An innocent bean farmer: *shaking in fear* ugh....in my field sir?

Mortus: *glares at the farmer*

A Centurion: *walks in the room* Sir! We have more prisoners! I think you maybe interested in these two.

Mortus: *slowly turns around* ......if this is another dead end.... you're joining the rest of the scum at the crucifixion field.

A Centurion: *gulps* ....y-yes sir.

Mortus: Bring them in...oh and release this one.

Bean Farmer: *just fucking bolts out of the room*

Mortus: .....

Centurion: *brings in Zeus, whom already looks a little claustrophobic in the already small room* There's a second one outside.

*outside*

Poseidon: *apparently has attracted the attention of many young beautiful women* Fear not Roman citizens! For I Po-*thinks of a name*...uhm...Paul.... understands your infatuation, but alas I am happily married, BUT let that not stop you from admiring my very being! *Tries to flex while handcuffed*

The small crowd of women: *swooned*

A Centurion: oh shut up.

*inside*

Mortus: *actually a little intimidated by Zeus and his stone cold resting death face*....Well now....you rather large for a shepard. Retired I suppose?

Zeus: ....no.

Mortus: Than what is your occupation?

Zeus: ......I do not think you have the jurisdiction to ask me.

Mortus: *getting angry* Where were you when the Coliseum was being destroyed!?

Zeus: .... Probably with your mother, who I would be certain would be very ashamed that her son has decided to harass the elderly.

Mortus: *steaming mad* YOU WILL ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Zeus: I want to speak with my lawyer.

Mortus: WHAT?!?

A Centurion: Um sir, we have a Mr-*looks at a crudly written card* Plutonium? He's a law maker and legally represents the detainee.

Mortus: *feeling a cold sweat as if the devil has entered the building, looks at Zeus*

Zeus: *smiling*

Mortus: ....bring him in.

Hades: *now looks more like a mortal version of himself but now carries a satchel* Good evening my name is Cryus Plutonium and I have heard my client and his brother have been unlawfully detained. *Places a scroll on the table* Sir if I may infer, I've been working several weeks in the law office and I have found no evidence of this new "Zero tolerance policy". So I do believe you have no legal right to detain and must release him-

Poseidon: *from outside* AND ME!

Hades: -and his brother.

Mortus: *stares in disbelief* ....what.

Hades: *slowly walks to Zeus and unbinds him*

Zeus: thank you.

Hades: Now. Let us l-*feels a sword near his next* ......

Mortus: *has just about snapped* .....I've been after you and your mutant kin for a whole year and three months.....you owe not just me....but you owe the empire....an explanation.

Hades: ............

Zeus: ...........*lifts a finger, shocks him and tases Mortus, knocking him cold* ................you know something.......I think I finally understand why the children hate this place.

Hades: *shakes his head, as the two leave they see poseidon just flexing for a small crowd while the Centurion who was gaurding him is tied to a support beam*

A Centurion: Please help me.

Zeus: *points and sarcastically smiles* No. *Walks to Poseidon and drags him* It's time to go.

Poseidon: Awww....but I was just getting the crowd warmed up!

Hades: Let's just say they'll be warmed up with a few weeks of heavy thunderstorms.

Poseidon: .....can there be earthqu-

Zeus: You may bury the lot.

Poseidon: *smiles* Huzzah!

Hades: Or....we can be a little less intrusive.

Zeus: Fine, I shall ask Odin if he wants to help.

Hades: Yes my thoughts exactly.

Zeus: *still angry until he sees Octavia and little Caius and suddenly feels a little odd*......Hades.

Hades: yes

Zeus: I understand you don't have children...but what are the chances that one of my sons may have left something behind.

Hades: *trying to understand what Zeus meant until he saw Caius* Hmm....oh come now you're not going to take the child away from. His mother....or..... fornicate with her.....are you?

Zeus: .....oh damn it all....we can't destroy this city........

Poseidon: *in a singsong tone* I can! *Suddenly a little rumble starts until Zeus bonks him on the head* ~°

Zeus: No....the city of Rome...if officially protected.

Hades: ........all this because there's a bastard grandson around here isn't it?

Zeus: Silence Hades. Look at him, not a care in the world. Enjoying his moments with his dear mother talking to Hera a-WHAT THE?!?!

Hades: Wait Hera is here??

Poseidon: *rubbing his head* Hey look! It's Amphitrite too!

Hera: *talking to Octavia* Oh yes, married life is great but have you ever considered divorce?

Octavia: Oh heavens no, even though my husband has been rather distent. I'm positive he isn't in an adulterous relationship. That's punishable but crucifixion here.

Amphitrite: Well yes darling, for the WOMEN, men here get away with it scot-free.

Octavia: Oh heavens no.

Caius: *squirming a little*

Octavia: aww what the matter deary.

Hera: *knotices that Caius has few enough features of Zeus to be related but not directly enough to be his son* Aw what an adorable little baby boy. Who's the father?

Octavia: oh I'm happily married to General Mortus Biccus.

Hera: hmm....

Zeus: Oh there you are my beautiful, wonderful and not here to make sure I'm cheating on her wife! *Grits teeth* what are you doing here?!

Hera: ....I was wondering the same thing. I'm here shopping for some exotic fruits.

Amphitrite: *shows her basket of bananas*

Zeus: Oh.

Poseidon: *enthralled by the bananas* ohhhh.....

Hades: Well....I guess we can all go home then.

Octavia: Oh my! This must be your husband. You must be very lucky to have married such a big strong man.

Hera: *unamused* I am so blessed.

Zeus: *puts his arm around her* not as blessed as I am to be married to her.

Octavia: aww.

Caius: *kinda happy sensing he's found grandma and grandpa* c:

Zeus: *now getting a closer look, the baby literally looks like a spitting image of Hermes* oh my.

Mortus: THERE YOU ARE! *huffing and puffing from running* You are all under arrest!

Octavia: Oh Mortus, don't be so rude to these fine people they have done nothing wrong.

Mortus: This man shot LIGHTNING out of his finger! And that one *points to Hades* is...well he's just scary and THAT one is just annoying! *points to Poseidon*

Poseidon and Amphitrite: *sharing a banana and suddenly stop* hmf?

Mortus: These men are connected to the destruction of the coliseum last year and the disappearance of Gaius!

Zeus: ....Oh! You mean my sons? Oh yes they're actually harmless. You see, they're traveling magicians and they perform fantastic illusions!

Mortus: NO! FUCK YPU OLD MAN! I know what the people saw! Clearly something is going on! ...my suspensions are...that you...and your cohorts.....are demons!

Octavia: Mortus!

Caius: :c

Zeus: ....oh that's rather rude.

Hera: Now hang on a minute. Let's prove our innocence.

Zeus: Hera what are you doing?

Hera: .....you know, the gods are technically innocent....and exempt from being accused of any crime.

Mortus: *tempted to mention Emperor Caligula and his recent campaign against Poseidon but decided not to*

Hera: ...so...if we were gods...we would be innocent.

Octavia: Hmm...she does have a point.

Mortus: What are you getting at?

Zeus: *deep sigh* Fine...I lied.....me...my lovely wife and my brothers....are all gods......I'm actually Zeus, she's Hera and so on and so forth. My sons are were Apollo, Hermes and Dionysus....you see....it's likely their fault for losing their tempers, I apologize for that too. And I apologize for shocking you but you did threaten to crucify me.

Mortus: ..........*starts laughing hysterically and has officially lost his mind*

Octavia: Oh dear. Let's go honey, I must apologize for my husband's behavior. He's been working day and night. Oh sweetheart let's go.

Caius: byebye c: *waves*

Mortus: *while laughing like a mad man* HAHAHAH wait! I HAVE to know this but IS Caius here yours?!? HAHAHAHA I mean, I don't have BALLS! HAHAHAHAHAHA *gets dragged back home*

Zeus: ......you didn't help with that last portion did you?

Hera: No. I figured a man who looked as pathetic and desperate like that probably was already at his wit's end.... Speaking of which is that child yours?

Zeus: hmm....

*back at Olypmus*

Zeus: *pulls the ears of Hermes and Dionysus*

Hera: *helping with the situation and pulls Apollo's and Ares's ear*

Zeus: You boys are forbidden from returning to Rome. And as for you Hermes....it's one thing frolicking with farm maidens with incompetent husbands....but a war general with no testicles?....shame on you.

Hermes: *knows what he's talking about*.....worth it. *Feeling his ear getting pulled* ow~°

[thelastspeecher]

Best Revenge AU - Junior

I’m still working on the ficlet in this AU that is Angie-centric and has stuff showing her relationship with Max, her divorce, and when she starts dating Stan.  But ever since I decided to create a new kid for this AU, I’ve been unable to stop thinking about said kid.  So here, have some origin story for Stanley Junior.

——————————————————————————————

              The front door slammed open.  Angie stormed into the living room, where Lute and Stan were waiting for her to come back.  After finding out Max had cheated on her, she had immediately gone over to trash his place.

              “Feelin’ better?” Lute asked gently.  Angie looked at him for a moment, then burst into tears. “Angie?”  She ran off.

              “What just happened?” Stan asked.

              “I don’t rightly know,” Lute said.  He chewed on his lip.  “Maybe it would be fer the best if you went to talk to her. She might not want to talk to her brother.”

              “I’m on it.”  Stan got up and went down the hall, coming to a stop in front of Angie’s bedroom.  He cautiously opened the door.  Angie sat on her bed, her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.  Stan took a seat next to her.

              “You all right?” he asked.

              “N-no.”

              “What’s wrong?  I woulda thought you’d be happy after trashing your ex’s house.”

              “I prob’ly would be,” Angie said, wiping her tears away, “if I wasn’t…”  She took a shuddering breath.  “If I wasn’t pregnant.”

              “You’re- but we haven’t knocked boots!”  It was something Stan was a bit disappointed by, but he was fine with waiting until Angie felt comfortable being intimate.  “How could you-”

              “It’s Max’s,” Angie whispered.  Stan stared at her in horror.  “Seems- seems like he got what he wanted.  I was ‘bout a week or two along when I left.”

              “I thought you were on birth control.” Stan’s eyes widened.  “Unless he fucked with your pills.”

              “He didn’t know about the pills.”

              “Then how-”

              “Birth control can fail.”

              “Are you- are you gonna keep it?” Stan asked quietly.  Angie closed her eyes.

              “Nothin’ against folks who decide to- to terminate a pregnancy.  It ain’t my business what they do.  But I- I can’t do that.”

              “You’re keeping it.”

              “Yes.”  Angie put her head in her hands, sobbing again.  “I’m- I’m sorry!”

              “Why?”

              “‘Cause I love ya so- so much, and ya won’t stay with me.”

              “Hold on.”  Stan held up a hand.  “When did I say that?”

              “You-”  Angie stared at him, her bright blue eyes filled with tears.  “Yer not goin’ to leave me?”

              “Nope.”

              “But I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.”

              “So?” Stan said with a shrug.  “Angie, this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in. I’m not gonna throw that away.  You mean everything to me.”  He reached for Angie’s hand and squeezed.  “I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

              “But-”

              “And…”  Stan looked down at the ground.  “Honestly? I’ve wanted to be a dad since I was a kid.  This just means I’ll be a dad sooner than I thought.”

              “You won’t regret it?” Angie asked.

              “I’d regret it if I left.”  Stan kissed the top of her head.  “I’m not going anywhere, Ang.”  Angie pulled Stan’s face closer to hers and kissed him sweetly.

              “I love you,” she whispered.

              “Love you, too.”

-----

              Stan landed in the backyard of Angie and Lute’s house.

              “Mind the flowerbed!” Angie called from inside. Stan quickly shut off his flames. “Thank you!”  Stan walked in through the back door.  “In the kitchen!”  He headed for the kitchen.  Angie was nervously stirring a pot of something on the stove.  Stan walked over to her and kissed the top of her head.  “Are ya excited?”

              “To meet your parents or to finally get all the baby stuff outta my apartment?” Stan asked.  Angie swatted him playfully.  The day after Angie told Stan she was pregnant and keeping it, Stan had gone on a bit of a spree, stealing things from numerous baby supply stores. Angie didn’t mind it, but insisted Stan not steal from small mom and pop stores.  However, because she had wanted to wait to tell her family about the pregnancy, the baby supplies were stacked up in Stan’s apartment.

              “Thank you fer bein’ so flexible on me not tellin’ my folks ‘til now,” she said softly.  Stan shrugged.

              “You’re the one who’s pregnant.  I’m just following your lead.”

              “Well, I’m officially in my second trimester, so now’s the time to tell.”

              “Are you showing yet?”

              “I literally showed ya yesterday.  Do ya really think I’d have started showin’ overnight?”

              “Well, you gotta get the bump at some point,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.  She lifted her shirt to reveal her stomach.  It was a bit bigger than before, but didn’t look evidently pregnant. “Nope.  Not yet.”

              “I ain’t that surprised,” Angie said, lowering her shirt.  “I ‘member my Pa sayin’ that my Ma didn’t look pregnant until her third trimester fer all the kids.  Well, all of ‘em ‘cept me ‘n Lute, since we were twins.”

              “Yeah, you’re pretty small.”

              “Doc says that the lil bean ‘ll prob’ly be small, too.”  The doorbell rang.

              “I got it!” Lute’s voice shouted from somewhere.

              “Still can’t believe you managed to keep it secret from him,” Stan whispered to Angie.  “Not only is he your twin, you literally live together.”

              “Lute’s been walkin’ on eggshells ever since I left Max,” Angie said.  She turned off the stove.  “He’s very careful to not pry into my personal business, since Max was so controllin’.”  Footsteps sounded.  The front door opened.

              “Ma, Pa!” Lute said happily.  “Angie’s in the kitchen.  I ain’t sure if Stan’s got here yet or not.”  Lute entered the kitchen, a man and woman close behind him.  The man looked like a carbon copy of Lute, while the woman looked exactly like Angie, with one major exception.

              Angie clearly got her dad’s nose.  Wonder if the kid’ll get it, too.

              “Angie!”  Angie’s parents promptly pulled her away from the stove and into a hug.  “Oh, it’s so good to see ya,” her father cooed.  Her mother looked Angie up and down.

              “I see ya fin’ly put some meat on yer bones,” her mom said.  Angie turned red.

              “Ma!”

              “No, it’s good,” her dad said firmly.  “You needed it.”  He smiled at her.  “You’ve always been so tiny.”

              “Maybe it’s ‘cause she ain’t stressed from livin’ with that turd what pretended to be a husband,” Lute groused, leaning against the counter.  Angie kneaded her forehead.

              “Lute…”

              “I’m allowed to call him that.”  A sudden melancholy fell over Lute.  “He was my best friend long ‘fore he was yer boyfriend.”

              “I know.”

              “So, are ya goin’ to introduce us to yer new beau?” Mrs. McGucket cooed.  Angie grabbed Stan’s hand.  He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

              “Ma, Pa, this is my boyfriend, Stanley Pines. He works with Lute, but has a day job sellin’ used cars.  Stan, these ‘re my parents, Sally ‘n Mearl McGucket.”

              “Pleasure to meet ya, son,” Mr. McGucket said, holding out a hand.  Stan shook the offered hand, forcing a smile.  The two southerners seemed like a regular farmer and his wife, warm and gentle. But Stan knew that Mrs. McGucket was actually the infamous Sirocco, his own mother’s archnemesis, while Mr. McGucket had regularly interfered with local government as the villain Hemlock. “I got to say, I’m glad my lil girl fin’ly found herself a proper villain to date.”

              “Pa,” Angie whined.  Mr. McGucket chuckled.

              “I’m just teasin’, junebug.”

              “We’re so happy yer in a good relationship,” Mrs. McGucket gushed.  “Ya had a clean break with Max and can start over.”  Angie took a deep breath.

              “A-about that…” she started.  Stan looked at her, surprised.

              “You’re gonna tell them now?  I thought you were gonna wait until after dinner.”

              “No.”  Angie took another breath.  “I just- I just want to get it over with.”  She looked at her parents.  “Ma, Pa, I’m pregnant.”  Lute slipped from his casual lean, falling to the floor.  Mr. and Mrs. McGucket stared at Angie in shock.

              “O-oh,” Mrs. McGucket mumbled.  Mr. McGucket swallowed.

              “Angie, we try not to pass judgement on you ‘n yer siblin’s lives, but you’ve only been datin’ Stan fer a few months.  To become pregnant with his child-”

              “It’s not Stan’s,” Angie said quickly.  Mrs. McGucket covered her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. “It’s Max’s.  I didn’t know it, but I was a couple weeks along when I left.”

              “Shit,” Lute swore, getting to his feet.  His face contorted with rage.  “He- he just had to get the last word, didn’t he?”

              “Yer keepin’ it?” Mr. McGucket asked softly. Angie nodded.  “I see.”  He looked at his wife.  “Sally?”

              “Yes, dear.”  Mrs. McGucket took Angie’s hand.  “Come with me, sweetling.  I need to ask ya a few questions.”

              “Okay.”  Angie allowed Mrs. McGucket to lead her away.  Stan and Lute looked at Mr. McGucket, confused.

              “What’s that about?” Stan asked.  Mr. McGucket took off his glasses and polished them.

              “We were plannin’ on havin’ Sally ask Angie a few questions in private, due to the sensitive nature of her breakup with Max.”

              “You mean-” Stan started.  Mr. McGucket nodded and put his glasses back on.  Lute frowned.

              “What?”

              “Your mom is asking Angie if her ex-husband beat her,” Stan said flatly.  Lute’s jaw dropped.  “He didn’t, by the way.  Angie’s told me everything that her dick of an ex did to her.  Max treated her like she was made of glass and tried to control her near the end, but he didn’t lay a finger on her.”

              Except for when he tried to keep her from leaving and grabbed her hard enough to bruise.  But Angie had sworn Stan to secrecy in that regard.  She knew her family would go scorched earth if they found out, which she didn’t want.

              “Stanley, she might still be uncomfortable tellin’ ya somethin’ that she’d feel more comfortable tellin’ her mother,” Mr. McGucket said gently.  He glowered. “Especially…”

              “What?” Lute asked.

              “With this new information ‘bout Max gettin’ her pregnant, we have to consider the possibility that Angie didn’t…”  Mr. McGucket closed his eyes.  “We need to make sure Angie consented to the events what caused her to get pregnant and that Max didn’t, ah, counteract any attempts Angie made to prevent a pregnancy.”  Lute shook his head.

              “No, Pa.  Max, he- he turned out to be a real poor excuse of a person, but he wouldn’t have done anything like that to Angie.  And if he’d even tried, Angie wouldn’t have tolerated it.”

              “Hon, yer sister is very strong, but strong people can find themselves strugglin’ in a sit’ation like Angie was in,” Mr. McGucket said.  “I also don’t think that Max would have done that to Angie.  But we can’t ignore that possibility.”

              “It’s smart,” Stan said after a moment.  “Gotta cover all your bases.”

              “Yes.”  Mr. McGucket looked at Stan carefully.  “So, yer fine with raisin’ another man’s child?”

              “Yep.  Angie and I talked it out ages ago.”  Stan grinned, glad for the change in topic.  “I’ve already started stocking up on stuff for the kid.”

              “Yer the one what burgled all those baby stores?” Lute asked.  Stan nodded. “Where have ya been puttin’ the stuff?”

              “My apartment.  But now that you all know, I can finally start moving it here.  Thank god.  I can barely see my bed.”

              “Y’know, if yer goin’ to be with Angie fer the long haul and help her raise her child,” Mr. McGucket said idly, “maybe ya should just move in with her.”  Stan stared at him.

              “Pa, Angie’s the one who should offer that, not you,” Lute said, rolling his eyes.  Mr. McGucket chuckled.

              “Yer right, yer right.”  He clapped Stan on the shoulder.  “Are ya excited to be a dad?”  Stan’s grin broadened.

              “Yeah.  I am. I know it’s gonna be tough and stressful, but I’m looking forward to holding the kid for the first time.”  Mr. McGucket beamed.

              “That’s what I like to hear.”

              “What a coincidence,” Angie said.  Stan turned.  Angie and her mother had returned.  She smiled at Stan.  “That’s what I like to hear, too.”

-----

              “It’s a boy!” the doctor said.  Stan looked over.  The newborn in the doctor’s arms was tiny and covered in body fluids Stan didn’t want to think about.  The doctor handed the baby to a nearby nurse.

              “Hey, uh, where are you taking him?” Stan asked. Angie chuckled.

              “Stanley, relax.  They’re just cleanin’ him up,” she said wearily.

              “Oh.  Right.” Stan grinned at Angie.  “Got caught up in the moment.”  Angie laughed again.

              “What time is it?” she asked.

              “Uh…”  Stan checked his watch.  “Two in the morning.”

              “Geez.”  Angie yawned. “No wonder I’m so tired.  I was in labor fer ten hours.”  Angie had gone into labor yesterday afternoon, prompting Stan to call out of the bank job he was supposed to help with.  “Is yer hand all right?”

              “I’ve had worse,” Stan said.  He’d been by Angie’s side throughout the labor, providing his hand for her to squeeze when she had a particularly bad contraction.  “So, was this a good labor or-”

              “It went about as smoothly as it could,” said the nurse, who had come back with the baby.  “Honestly, I haven’t seen a labor and birth this free from complications in a while.”

              “Good,” Angie said sleepily.  “Is my boy ready?”

              “Yes, he is.  Here you go.  He’s perfectly healthy.”  The nurse carefully deposited the baby in Angie’s arms.  “I’ll give you three some time to get to know each other.”

              “Thank you,” Angie said.  The nurse left.  Angie carefully parted the folds of the blanket, revealing her son.  “He’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

              “He’s really tiny,” Stan said.  “Are babies always that tiny?”

              “Newborns are usually pretty small, but this lil feller is definitely smaller ‘n average,” Angie answered.  She stroked her son’s cheek.  The baby shifted slightly and opened his eyes.  Stan smiled.

              “He’s got your peepers.”

              “He might not.”

              “Uh, he’s got blue eyes.”

              “Sometimes, babies are born with blue eyes, only fer the eyes to turn brown later on.”  Angie smiled. “He’s got the fam’ly nose, though.”

              “And he’s bald.”

              “Mm-hmm.”  Angie’s eyes slowly closed.  “He’s perfect.”

              “What are you gonna name him?” Stan asked.

              “Shh, later,” Angie mumbled.  Stan carefully took the baby from her.  He kissed her forehead.  Angie smiled.

              “Get some sleep.  You’ve earned it.”

-----

              “Stanley?”  Stan opened his eyes.  He looked at the hospital bed.  Angie was awake.

              “Hey, babe.”  Stan stretched.  After Angie had fallen asleep, she’d been taken from the delivery room to her own private room.  Stan had set up camp in the chair by her bed and fallen asleep.  “How are you doing?”

              “Less tired.”  Angie looked around.  “Where’s the baby?”

              “I had him go to the nursery so we could both get some sleep.”

              “Ah.  Smart.”

              “They asked what his name was, but I didn’t know what you were planning on, so they just put him down as Baby McGucket.” Stan grinned.  “Which, honestly, isn’t half bad of a name.”  Angie laughed.

              “It wouldn’t be the weirdest name in my fam’ly. But it ain’t the name I’ve got in mind.”

              “What is?”

              “You’ll see,” Angie said with a grin.  Stan chuckled.

              “Making me wait.  I see how it is.”  He stood up. “Be right back, I’ve gotta go pee.”

-----

              When Stan got back to Angie’s hospital room, she was holding the baby.  Stan walked over to her bed.

              “Yer middle name is Stanford, right?” Angie asked him.

              “Uh, yeah.  Fuck Pops for doing that to me.”

              “Love, there ‘re young ears in hearin’ range,” Angie said gently.  “No swearin’ ‘round the baby.”

              “…Right.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “Why’d you need my middle name?  Oh, I was gonna sign the birth certificate.”

              “No need.  Birth certificate is all done,” Angie said.  Stan frowned.

              “But who’d you put down as the dad?”

              “I left it blank.”  Angie looked down at her son in her arms.  “I didn’t- I know that yer happy to be raisin’ this lil bean now, but I didn’t want to chain ya to a child what ain’t yours.  Just in case.”

              “Ang…”

              “I don’t want ya to feel trapped,” Angie said quietly.  Stan’s eyes widened.  He put his arm around her shoulders.  “I’ve felt that way.  I wouldn’t wish it on someone I love.”

              “You’re too good for me,” Stan said.  Angie managed a watery chuckle.  “If I’m not signing the birth certificate, why’d you need to know my middle name?”

              “Well…”  Angie smiled. “Hold out yer arms.”  Stan did as he was told.  Angie carefully handed the baby over.  “Meet Stanley Stanford McGucket.”

              “Wh-”  Stan stared at Angie.  “That’s- that’s my name.”  Angie nodded. Stan swallowed.  “It’s- it’s a good name,” he choked out.

              “You’ve been there fer me through all of this.  It’s the only name what feels right fer the lil bean.”

              “I…”  Stan stared down at the baby named after him.  “He really is a little bean.”  Angie laughed.

              “I was thinkin’ we could call him Junior. He ain’t Stan Pines Junior at the moment, but if we get married, he will be.  And since yer already named Stan…”

              “Yeah, I’d be pretty confused if I heard Lute say he changed Stan’s dirty diaper,” Stan said dryly.  Angie laughed again.  “You’re in a good mood.”

              “I’ve got my two boys with me.  How could I not be?” Angie asked.  Junior shifted in Stan’s arms.  Stan smiled down at him.

              “Hey, bud,” he whispered.  Junior watched him curiously.  “I’m not the one who got your mama pregnant.  But I’m the one who’s gonna take care of you.  Got it?”  Junior giggled.  “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Stan sat down in the chair he’d slept in, still staring at Junior.  “Sweet Moses. I’m- I’m a dad.”

              “Only if ya want to be,” Angie said.  Stan looked at her.

              “I just told Junior that I’m gonna be his dad.  He understood.  You didn’t?”

              “All right, all right,” Angie said, holding her hands up in surrender.  “All right. Yer a dad.  Yer Junior’s dad.

              “Damn straight.”

              “Language.”

              “Right.”  Stan settled back in his chair.  “These isn’t the Halloween I had in mind, but-”

              “Pardon?”

              “Ang, you went into labor yesterday, on October 30th,” Stan said.  “Today’s Halloween.”  Angie burst into laughter.  “What?”

              “It’s just- I was born on April Fool’s Day.  It feels appropriate fer my son to be born on Halloween.”  Stan held up a finger.

              “Nuh-uh.  Our son was born on Halloween.”  He grinned. “I’m gonna throw Junior the best birthday parties.”  A comfortable silence fell.  “I kinda like how quiet it is right now.”

              “Don’t get too used to it,” Angie warned.  “My entire fam’ly is headin’ over.  It’ll get loud real fast.”  The door slammed open.

              “Where’s my new nephew?” Lute crowed.  Angie looked at Stan.

              “See?”

[kristenswig]

Best Adapted Screenplay 2020

Winner:

I’m Thinking of Ending Things - Charlie Kaufman, based on the novel by Iain Reid

I should end this.  Just end it.  Just make a clean break.  No lingering, no waiting for things to get better.  You can only wait so long.  I don’t even know who I am in this whole thing anymore, where I stop and Jake starts.  I’m a pinball.  My emotional state is bouncing all over the place.  Jake needs to see me as someone who sees him.  He needs to be seen, and needs to be seen with approval.  Like that’s my purpose in all of this, in life.  To approve of Jake, to keep him going.  And he needs to see me as someone whose approval of him is validated because I’m approved of by others.  “Look what I won.  She’s smart, she’s talented, she’s sensitive, she can do this, she knows about that, she made this, she cares about that.”

Nominees:

The Father - Florian Zeller & Christopher Hampton, based on the play by Florian Zeller

The situation is very simple.  I have lived in this flat for some time now.  I’m extremely attached to it.  I bought it more than 30 years ago can you imagine?  You weren’t even born.  It’s a big flat, very nice, very big and I’ve been very happy here.  Anyway my daughter is very interested in it.  My daughter is of the opinion that I cannot manage on my own so she’s moved in with me ostensibly to help me with this man she met not long ago just after her divorce.  He’s a very bad influence on her.  So now she would like to convince me that I really cannot manage on my own and the next stage will be to send me away I don’t know where.  It would be a much more efficient way of getting a hold of my flat but it’s not going to happen that way.  

Sorry dear I may as well tell you now.  I’m not leaving this flat anytime soon.  I’m going to outlive you.  Both of you.  I don’t know about you but my daughter here...in fact I’m going to make a point about it.  I’m going to inherit from her not the other way around and on the day of her funeral I shall give a little speech to remind everyone how heartless and manipulative she was.  

First Cow - Kelly Reichardt & Jon Raymond, based on the novel The Half-Life by Jon Raymond

- I see something in this land I haven’t seen before.  Pretty much everywhere has been touched by now.  But this is still new...more nameless things around here than you can shake an eel at. - Doesn’t seem new to me, seems old. - Everything is old if you look at it that way.  History isn’t here yet.  It’s coming, but we got here early this time.  Maybe this time, we can be ready for it.

La Llorona - Jayro Bustamante & Lisandro Sanchez, based on the poem by Manuel Carpio

The guerrilla fled when they heard the army was near.  I didn’t see it coming.  When I saw the fire, I grabbed my children and ran.  Violence came so abruptly.  First they set our crops on fire, then our homes, our clothes, and our cattle.  They separated the women and the children from the few men that were still there.  We were raped, and then the killing began.  Some of us managed to run to the mountains.  Clouds protected us up there everything the helicopters were looking for us...but there was no food, so we had to go down.  That’s when they caught me and took me to the military base.  The soldiers had their way with me.  I wasn’t the only one there.  We didn’t do anything.  We were just in our homes.  I’m not embarrassed to tell you what I went through.  I hope you are not embarrassed to do justice.  

Nomadland - Chloé Zhao, based on the book Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century by Jessica Bruder

- Why don’t you move in with us? - I can’t live here.  I can’t live in this room.  I can’t sleep in this bed.  Thank you but I can’t... - I know we’re not as interesting as the people you meet out there. - That’s not what I’m talking about. - No that’s what it is.  It’s always what’s out there that’s more interesting.  You left home as soon as you could, you married Bo after knowing him a few months, and then you moved to the middle of nowhere with him.  And even after Bo passed away, you still stayed in Empire.  I just didn’t get it.  I mean you could have left... - See, that’s why I can’t come here. - I never said this to you before and maybe I should have.  You know, when you were growing up you were eccentric to to other people but it was just because you were braver, and more honest than everybody else.  And you could see me when I was hiding from everybody.  And sometimes you could see me before I saw myself.  I needed that in my life.  And you’re my sister.  I would have loved having you around all these years.  You left a big hole by leaving.

Straight Up - James Sweeney, based on his short film Normal Doors

- I did mean literally. - What you’d literally kill somebody? - To be not dead?  Yeah!  Like I’m not saying I’d go out and sign up to be a terrorist, but if somebody put a gun to my head and they said “hey kill that guy or I’m gonna kill you” I’d be like “hey sorry man, I gotta look out for number one.” - No matter who it was? - Well maybe if it was like...no I’d let Obama die. - Your parents? - They’ve had their time. - A baby? - I would definitely kill a baby. - What?! - Oh come on.  Think about how much time and investment goes into raising a well adjusted adult.  I am college educated, I have a great sense of humor, I’m going to be a famous actress, I am way more beneficial to society than a useless, resource-consuming baby.  It would be like painting the Mona Lisa white to start fresh. - What if that baby was the next Picasso? - Or, a more likely scenario, what if he was a gangbanger?  Or a heroin addict or just had a real crooked face like you?  I’m joking.  No I just, it’s the same reason I don’t wanna have kids.  I figure, Murphy’s Law, if I had kids I’d probably end up like the mother in We Need to Talk About Kevin. - Oh I thought that was gonna be one of those movies where they say the title somewhere in the dialogue, and I kept waiting for it to happen and it never did and it really bothered me. - Not the massacre itself, just the face that nobody ever said, “we need to talk about Kevin”? - Yeah.  It just wasn’t right.

[37-children-of-the-dreams]

Day #30: I'm A Blue Blood, Make You Sign A Prenup

Okay, this title was because I thought it would be funny. I mean, Korkie would never make Crosshair sign a prenup. Korkie knows Crosshair has two things, his armor and rifle, and Korkie is the one with all the money. Basically, Korkie's the rich housewife and Crosshair is the hardworking breadwinner. And Fennec's their adoptive sister.

(Suicide Mention, Clonephobic Bo-Katan incoming)

---------------------

Fennec was pacing back and forth in the bunks. She knows there was no way Korkie's aunt would be at Kalevala. Korkie stated himself that Bo-Katan was busy becoming Mandalore's regent. Yet, it did sit well that they might actually meet up with the aunt. They did let Amis, Lagos and Soniee go without much of a threat of death if they tell Bo-Katan, and Bo-Katan does know Korkie has been running around the galaxy with a clone for a lover.

Well, fiancé. They had to announce their next 'great' idea that would literally kill everyone, but Korkie if they step on Kalevala. She knows love can make anyone forget their problems or make them do stupid stuff, but this is grade-A level insanity even for Fennec. She has never fought an entire pack of Mandos.

"Fennecky," her father called. "I know you're worried, but we has to trust those two."

"I know," Fennec agreed. "But I have issues with their idea. I mean, they've only known each other for months. They can't just marry right off the bat."

"We know that," Kristal Shand said. "But at least they've known each other for months and not days. I still remember the last girl who did that, divorced instantly after a week."

"I get that, but this is different. Korkie's clan does not remarry once they divorce. They run away from Kalevala for life, or commit suicide. And worst of all, Bo-Katan hates clones."

"And so do multiple people who were affected by the Clone Wars," Luka said. "I am effected by it too and I can't really find anything to hate Crosshair. Which is funny because he does give off the most antisocial aura I've ever known."

"Well, Mandalorians have a much bigger reason to hate them. The clones were made by a Mandalorian bounty hunter who made enemies with the Death Watch and the New Mandalorians. Also, they stole Mandalore from Bo-Katan when the War ended because the Empire said so."

"So Korkie really did chose the worst fiancé," Kristal sighed. "But he doesn't seem to hate Crosshair."

"He was put under house-arrest by Bo-Katan. He saw Crosshair and said 'that's the one' because he knew he'd be out of a prison with Crosshair as his ticket out. He's too happy with how they met than with the consequence of why he left."

Fennec's parents were ready to argue again with Korkie entered the bunk room.

"We're about land near my old home," Korkie announced. "Nanny Rana knows we're here because we have an old communicator to the head of the house."

"I'd like to say I'm happy," Fennec started. "But what happens if Bo-Katan comes?"

"She can't do much without causing a huge scandal between us. If she thinks I'm married, then she can't do anything but agree that it happened. Yet, if she forces me to divorcing Crosshair, then she knows what happens next."

"Which is?"

"You'll know. Which is funny because I don't."

Korkie left the Shands in confusion. Fennec knows Crosshair takes most of the Jedi craziness, but that does not mean he understands it. Luka has an idea, but he thought it'd too dark to tell Fennec his theory. As for Kristal, she didn't want Korkie and Crosshair to part ways after everything. They went outside the bunk and saw the multiple deserts that made Kalevala famous on Mandalore's maps.

Korkie was smiling as he saw the familiar desert near his home. Sure, it wasn't the best place to live as a duke, but this was his home and he had so much memories here. This was actually the winter home of the Kryzes if they wanted to get away and visit their homeworld. Yet, his mother made it his home away from Mandalore because it was the safest place possible. Which was ironic because the entire area covering his home was toxic desert. How he lived to adulthood being raised here must have been the will of the Force.

"I'm just going to say this," Crosshair started. "I hated coming here when we met. The place is covered in toxic desert and the only safe place is that mansion. How did you, Nanny Rana and the birds survived living here?"

"Oh, that," Korkie giggled. "I've adapted to the atmosphere surprisingly. Nanny Rana has her breath mask and visitors have mask ready for them. As for the birds, evolution."

Fennec looked at Korkie with concern for her parents. They never had to deal with toxic deserts before and having to adapt living with a breath mask was making her anxious.

"Fennec," Korkie said. "The mansion is breathable and the air is in good quality. It's the desert once you've reach the borders. We have markers that states where to where masks. Also, multiple House Kryze homes have dozens of breath mask. You're family will be fine as long as they don't venture off the marked path."

"I'm going to trust you on this," Fennec noted. "I just hope your Nanny Rana doesn't kick us out."

"It's not the nanny you should be worried about," Crosshair chimed. "It's the birds. They gave out the ugliest looks to me when I took Korkie away."

Fennec shrugged in agreement, but really she doesn't know what to expect.

The ship landed near the mansion. Nanny Rana had a basket full of food with her and the birds were flapping their wings in happiness. Korkie was visiting and he brought friends. And two refugees for Rana to take care of. Rana laughed at the thought. It was just some months and Korkie was already making most of his new freedom.

"Nanny Rana!" Korkie shouted as he ran to her.

"Korkie!" Rana cried.

Nanny and child hugged each other for a long moment. It's been a long time and they were in need for a check up. Crosshair got out next and strutted to Rana as if he owns the place. Rana saw this a funny challenge and just squeezed him with a hug making Crosshair gasp in confusion. Fennec and her parents came last and gave Rana a respectful bow before being bear hugged by the Mandalorian nanny.

"Oh when Korkie said he'd bring more friends," Rana said. "I thought he meant just Crosshair and a new pet."

"Not happening," Crosshair inserted.

The birds gave him an angry tweet. Crosshair rolled his eyes as a green bird placed himself on the clone's head.

"Which one was this?" he pointed to the bird.

"That's Chiffon," Korkie answered. "I think he's okay with you."

Crosshair grabbed the small ball of feather and placed him on Korkie's shoulders. Chiffon tweeted in happiness and cuddled Korkie's face. The rest of the birds noted it as their time to perch on the former duke. In seconds, Korkie was covered as Crosshair took a toothpick and shook his head back and forth.

"Well," Rana said. "Let's get in the house. The birds missed Korkie, and Crosshair, be a dear and try to get along with them. They're your boyfriend's pets."

Crosshair wanted to protest but saw how happy Korkie was being covered with his old pets. He sighed and just let Rana give them a tour of the mansion.

"The house is centuries years ago," Rana explained. "It's the safest one of the houses because of the toxic terrain. No idiot comes here without precaution. Which Korkie was taught in a young age. Because you're staying here, I'm going to teach you where we grow our crops, where we take baths and relaxation and of course where we hide in case of another Kryze feud."

"Kryze feud?" Luka asked.

"The Kryzes were not always pacifist. They were warlords and they've been through all the Civil Wars. They made their homes as strong as beskar to protect the heirs. Which meant Korkie still had to learn where to survive here."

"It wasn't much," Korkie assured. "The training was during peace times. Yet, since the world is once again at war, you might have to learn it better than me."

"It's not that bad," Rana agreed. "You'll get the hang of it in months. The only reason it was hard is because of the multiple secret tunnels here."

"Secret tunnels?" Crosshair asked.

"Yes, secret tunnels. They are everywhere. You might be near one right now and don't know about it, but you don't need it."

"Why?"

"Because you have Korkie. Even if Bo-Katan came here and demanded Korkie to be put under another round of house arrest, she can't stop him from actually using a tunnel and running back to you."

Crosshair smiled. The birds chirped in agreement. They hated Crosshair before, but sensing a change, a good change, in Crosshair made they agree that he's not a bad person anymore.

Crosshair stopped at the end of the tour. Rana looked at him and smiled as Korkie blushed to a shade of red. The last place they were entering was the indoor glass garden. The same one Korkie and Crosshair met. The one that changed their entire lives.

"The nostalgia is kicking, isn't it?" Rana laughed.

"Just open the door," Crosshair ordered.

Rana opened the door and the birds flew from Korkie to the tree where the two ate their first feast. The Shands were amazed by the sheer greenery the garden had. The rest of the land was barren and had nothing, but here was an oasis of color.

"A long time ago," Korkie started as he walked to the tree. "A Kryze fell in love with someone who could never smile. That Kryze made the mansion for his wife, but she never smiled. She came from a place filled with rich grass and plants of every color. She watched the birds and wondered why they were the only colored creatures in the land. For his love, he made this garden that never lost its color and could rival the birds. The wife finally smiled and they lived a fulfilling life with the garden never losing its color."

Chiffon was flapping his small wings again and was about to stop on Crosshair's head when a huge red bird of prey snatched Chiffon. The red bird placed Chiffon on a branch and screeched at Crosshair.

"What is that?" Crosshair pointed.

"Oh, hi Ronan," Korkie greeted the red bird. "He's weirdly the same species as Chiffon and the rest of the birds, but like Chiffon, he has mutation."

"Which is?" Fennec asked.

"Being extra aggressive to anyone he hates. Which is mostly every being he knows, excluding Chiffon."

"Why's that?" Crosshair asked.

"Because Chiffon give him his part of the bird feed when they were younger," Rana explained. "Ronan accepted it and they're mates."

At cue Chiffon peeped as Ronan screeched again.

"They kind of remind me of you two," Kristal said at Crosshair and Korkie.

Korkie blushed harder and Crosshair shrugged it off. They were nothing like the birds.

Rana lead the group back to the house and into the dining room.

"I made non-spicy meals for everyone!" she exclaimed.

Crosshair and Fennec sighed in relief. The dinner was great and they had tons of stories to tell Rana that made her laugh. As the hours went by, Rana took the Shands to their new rooms and Fennec to her own room.

"It's not much," Rana said. "It was once Korkie's great-aunt's room. She never liked being a lady and became a warrior. She'd liked you had she lived."

"How did she die?" Fennec asked.

"In blaze of glory fighting a squad of enemies in battle. Basically she got bombed in the back fighting for her home."

Fennec nodded. She hoped one day she'd die in such an amazing way. She entered the room and paid her respects to the former owner at her painting.

Rana left Fennec and found the men petting the birds at the garden. They were already wearing sleep wear and looking at the stars.

"It's getting late," Rana said.

"I want Crosshair to see the stars," Korkie explained. "They're the most beautiful thing to see in the garden at night."

"He's not wrong," Crosshair said. "But I think I found something better than the stars."

Rana smiled and left them. She was smiling but not for long. Korkie got out of the garden with Crosshair following him. Korkie saw the familiar light of a jetpack and wanted to cry. He ran to the main entrance and stopped.

He hated what he'll do next. He just got back and Rana approved of his relationship with Crosshair. Crosshair got to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not afraid," Crosshair said. "And I will be here for you."

Korkie took a breath and opened the door. In front of him was the one person he never wanted to meet again.

"Hello there, Lady Bo-Katan."

[cassandras-nest]

Invisible Man (chapter two)

Here we are, finally!

After a really long time i can post the second part of my series, so sorry for the delay, but lack of inspiration + life and other things were in the way.

This time i have few people to thank for their help:

First of all @binkyisonline (always there to remind me i have lots of work to do)

And @queen-paladin who helped me the other day when i was stuck and couldn’t go on, thank you.

Then thanks to whoever still read this, it means a lot to me.

As always, criticism, advices are welcome. I’m not a native english speaker so i may have miss something along the way..

(no beta reader because i really want to post it so i just did a quick grammar check)

summary: Newly divorced John Deacon joins the Queen forum’s chatroom with a fake account and start talking with someone who completely understand him and make him feel alive again. He finds himself obsessed with her pretty soon….

pairing: John Deacon x OC (Cassandra)

"If i could tell the future, life could be quite boring" John Deacon 1984.

2 months ago 

It was an easy start, after all...

Deakster - uhm..hi.. 

CoolCat - hi, how are you? :) 

Deakster - Good… i'm new and not quite used to this, sorry... 

CoolCat - nah, nothing to worry about, it's much simpler than it seems 

Deakster - yeah, alright...so, can i ask if you meant that? 

CoolCat - what exactly? Do you mean in the group chat right? 

Deakster - yeah, you really think Hot Space is a good album? 

CoolCat - listen, you seem nice i really don't wanna argue with you. 

Deakster - oh no. i just wanted to tell you that you're quite right, i think that too..:) 

CoolCat - sorry, i'm still mad from before, is that i really can't stand assholes that think i'm too young to understand music... 

Deakster - yeah that was an asshole indeed..but you gave him what he deserved. 

CoolCat - no need to flatter me, i'm already talking to you ;) 

Deakster - i was not... 

CoolCat - relax, man, i'm joking but since we are here, talk to me about yourself…won't you?

Deakster - told you i'm new. Well, my life's quite boring really...i live alone in London and that's it…. 

CoolCat - ...and you like Queen or you wouldn't be here... :D 

Deakster - well…yes! 

It was the shittiest lie he ever said, well maybe one of the shittiest... 

CoolCat - so far so good :) I really didn't see you around here much, you're much more of a lurker, aren't you? 

Deakster - i rather watch more than writing.. 

CoolCat - and...that's not creepy at all xD 

Deakster - i am not- oh, you're joking again? Right? 

CoolCat - yes! You' re a fast learner, i see..i like it :D 

Deakster - so, what about you? Aside from making fun of me? :) 

CoolCat - and quite clever too, i'm impressed ;). Well, this has to wait, maybe next time. 

Deakster - ..but..when? 

CoolCat - now you're asking too much for a first time…;) i'm sure you'll figure it out soon. 

Deakster - ...yeah, you right, i probably will. 

CoolCat - bye :D.

*Coolcat is offline*

------------------

Now. 

This was too much. 

She was way too stressed and tired, and this was the most boring shift she had to make. 

This whole week has been exhausting. Waking up early and studying late at night had started to shown its side effects.

Then there was work and this new shift from early afternoon to late evening that was literally hell. 

On top of that, that afternoon no one entered the café, except for the ones who tried to find shelter from the pouring rain outside, leaving a mess when they left. 

It definitely was the worst day ever. 

She was absently looking outside while her colleagues were chatting not so far from her, but she didn’t care much, all she wanted was to be at home, lazily watching TV, studying or maybe…talking to someone; someone who she hadn’t had the time to talk to for two weeks, and it had been a very long two weeks.

She was abruptly distracted from her thoughts by a voice... 

- Cassie- Martin said - what about you?- he asked casually.

She blinked a little, taken entirely by surprise and slightly turning her body to face them. 

-”What about me” what?- she answered confused. 

- You weren’t listening? we were talking about love and relationships.- he promptly said. 

- Oh...- she only answered 

A special someone? maybe… Maybe not? she didn’t know that ... -she smiled at the thought.

- Do you have someone in your life? Do you like someone? - Martin inquired even more, looking at her.

- Well...maybe, i mean, i like someone…- she babbled - We talked a lot, for almost two months, i think, and he’s very dear to me now- answering them, her face a little bit red. 

Yes, that friend was very special to her. -she realized-

- Oohh.- they all said in unison -interesting! What’s his name? Do we know him? Is he from Uni? - suddenly she was flooded by questions. 

Cassandra blushed even more - No, no… to all of that! - she answered. 

- What do you mean “no”? you still don’t know what his name is? where did you meet him?- now was Cindy who asked, much more concerned than curious. 

She hesitated, lightly biting on her lower lip. 

- Well..- she started to explain - I met him online. I mean in a Queen’s chatroom. You know how much i love that group, right?- she tried to explain as clearly as possible. 

But her colleagues looked at her with wide eyes. 

- Internet? well, that sounds fair, but…- Martin said, raising an eyebrow, concerned - Are you sure? I mean, you never know who could be on the other side of the screen, he may be old and creepy…- he concluded. 

- I already know that, thanks - she answered, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

- Sorry if we worry about you or for the fact that knowing people online could be dangerous, maybe? - Cindy said, sounding a bit offended. 

- Or that we worry about you in general? - Martin added calmly. 

- Guys, please, i’m not that naive, you know? It’s been, what, two months since i knew him, and we just talked, that’s all..probably i’ll never meet him in real life, so relax - she answered, trying not to sound too harsh. 

- And..- she added then - It’s not that dangerous knowing people online, you should try that sometimes - speaking toward Cindy, that now was avoiding her gaze.

- Cool, as long as you’re safe, it’s totally fine - Martin spoke again - As i said, we’re just worried - trying to ease the situation.

- It’s alright, i’m not mad at you at all - she answered - I’m just tired..- relaxing a bit.  

She didn’t want to argue with them, not now.

She never dared to spoke about him, or the whole situation with other people, and she didn’t realize how easily defensive she could become, until now. 

Cassandra knew him. He wasn’t a bad person at all, he wasn’t what the others described, they didn’t know him, not like she did. 

And she was sure about that. 

The chatter quietly calmed down until it was time to close and go back home; it was then that she decided what to do. Maybe it was what the other said, maybe she wanted to prove them wrong or she just missed him but she decided to go online later that night and see if he was there. It was definitely too long since they spoke, and she felt like she needed him, to talk to with him or maybe... just knowing that he missed her too. 

The walk home was pretty fast, she kept thinking of what she would say to him or what he would say, she also wondered how his life has been these days, if he was ok. Maybe he would be angry with her? God, she really hoped not. 

All these thoughts made her smile along the way. 

This time something was different, she felt different somehow, mostly because she felt safe with him even if she didn’t know who he was or how he looked like; she still had a tiny hope of met him one day.

 __________________ 

John logged many times onto the chatroom in the past days, waiting in vain and, eventually, completely forgetting everything else around him. 

His responsibilities, his problems and the entire world outside. 

Was he starting to be obsessed? Yes, very much so... 

But the life he wanted to leave outside called him abruptly back into reality today. 

His ex-wife called him pretty early in the afternoon, his younger son was sick, and she couldn’t take him to the doctor because she couldn’t take the day off, so she thought that maybe he could, and he agreed in no time. 

Of course, he would, it wasn’t even a question, promptly asking what the problem was. 

- I really don’t know, he was pretty sick two days ago and started having a bit of a fever, but i thought it was just the flu or something he ate...- she answered him, her tone calm, as always. 

John nodded while listening. 

- It’s alright, don’t worry about it. We’ll see once we arrive at the doctor’s office.- John answered, smiling tenderly. 

- You’ll take him here or i’ll come to pick him up?- he asked then. 

- I’ll take him, the doctor is near your apartment, so it’s easier.- she answered quietly 

- Thank you, John, truly - she added. John almost could imagine her smiling. 

When they talked about their children, problems disappear, even if he knows that it’ll be their only reason to call each other now. 

-Don’t mention it. It’s my son too Ronnie, is the least i can do. I’m aware i’m not his favourite parent but i’ll manage - he said, smiling again, sadly, on the phone. 

There was a moment of silence between them; John would have liked to hear her say that he was wrong, that his son loved him very much but John receives only a heartbroken sigh.

- Right, ahm….so - she started - I'll see you tomorrow morning, then.- and the phone call ended. 

It was true, his youngest son was the one who took the news of their divorce badly. He was a mama-boy, so he started to hate on his father, even if his mother was telling him constantly not to. 

He could manage that; he loved him, he loved all his children, so he could stand a bit of hate from one of them. 

----------------------------------- 

Tonight, both of them needed each other and, for once, fate was on their side...

-----------------------------------

Before bed, John decided to try again.  Maybe -he thought- tonight would be the right one. So he made himself a nice cup of tea and sat in front of his computer; once logged-in he went directly to the chatroom. 

He started to scroll aimlessly the list of contacts hoping to find the one he was looking for… 

And then he saw it and almost didn’t believe it...

*Coolcat is online*

bonus: their account (did these a while ago, my reference was a real profile on a real Queen forum)

taglist: @bluewillowmom @deakysgurl @acdeaky @stormtrprinstilettos @dontstopmemeow @mydeakydoesme @babyzellodeacon @sitonmyhot-seatoflove @myguardianmailman @deacytits  @deakys-chesthair @miamideacon @supersonicfreddie @bismillahnah  @painandpleasure86​ @laedymoon​ @deakygurl​

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Fait Accompli Fandom: Harry Potter, Assassins Creed Characters: Petunia Durlsey, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter Warnings: emotional manipulation, heavily implied eugenics, misuse of science, heavily implied mental manipulation, implied child abuse, character death Parts: I | II | III Summary:  Petunia Dursley neé Evans had a lot of regrets in her life. Her sister, their estrangement, her marriage. This, she determined, would not be one of them. Notes: This was literally the first Assassin’s Creed fanfiction idea I ever had, and it was a crossover. This idea initially came to me when I started to play the first Assassin’s Creed in a build up anticipation for Odyssey. I had a hard time writing it originally so I scrapped it. I worked on Dreaming Bitter Darkly instead after Odyssey came out and that became my first Assassin’s Creed fic. Needless to say this isn’t going to be an emotionally happy story. At all. Petunia is not a nice woman, and this is 100% from her point of view. I do have a “sequel” planned, or rather a series of 3 stories that will take place. This and it’s two parts (still being written) and another short story that technically takes place at the same time, to set up the background for the story that I wanted to write originally.

I’m still not sure how it’ll go, but I figured I’d put this mess out there.

“Thank you for not slamming the door in my face,” Petunia said softly. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, and from what she could see the girl in front of her tried rather hard to be accommodating despite the utter distaste. Petunia scrutinized her as subtly as she dared—she didn’t know what this child could do, not like she knew her nephew. The red hair was garish, didn’t fit her face at all, and the brow eyes reminded her far too much of the amber color from years Petunia wanted to forget.

“For whatever reason Harry loves you,” Ginny said as she set two cups of tea down on the table.

“And you love him,” Petunia took her cup and sipped the tea. Excellently made, she noted.

“I do,” Ginny agreed. She held on to her own cup tightly, knuckles white from the grip. Petunia set the china down and breathed out heavily.

“How far along are you, dear?” Petunia asked instead. “Your third, right?” She watched how Ginny’s face lit up with a smile, a little splotchy with the freckles that didn’t quite do her any favors—or at least, Petunia didn’t think so. She was so plain, but perhaps that was what Harry liked. Petunia wouldn’t know.

“Yes,” Ginny said, and her voice was bright and cheerful at the thought of the child. “A daughter.”

“A daughter?” Petunia let a smile cross her face. “Harry would love that.”

“He does,” Ginny agreed, voice soft.

A daughter. Petunia glanced to the swell of Ginny’s belly and felt—empty.

Lily named the boy Harry James Potter. Petunia didn’t know how she felt, to know the child bore that name, but she pushed on. Raising her nephew was no easy task and it wasn’t because Vernon hated the boy, although Vernon did make the task far harder than Petunia would’ve liked. No, little Harry was a silent tyke and struggled with his words. He made it apparent that there was something wholly Other about him in the way that Lily nor Petunia were as children. Petunia glowed, and Lily had always been ethereal in likeness, but Harry took it to other places.

Vernon hated anything different, foreign or otherwise. James Potter made the man infuriated, and it wasn’t a surprise to Petunia that he hated the man’s son just as much. Harry looked nothing like the family except that she had Lily, and by that notion Petunia and Lily’s father’s, bright green eyes. The almond shape wasn’t even quite like Lily’s—it held more of that Potter in it than anything. He lacked the red-as-blood hair, or the pale spun locks of Petunia’s and took far more after his own father.

Dark skin, foreign, with bright eyes and unmanageable hair. Petunia knew all about unmanageable hair—Lily’s hair had been a nightmare to take care of, far too curly and wild shaped to be tamed, but they did tame it. Harry had the thick nest of dark locks that didn’t work the way Lily or Petunia’s own hair did. It went everywhere, refused to come right, and drove her batty. She tried to shave it down short and for a time as an infant it worked, but the older Harry grew the less he allowed his hair to be short.

There were other discrepancies of course not associated with his gift. He watched the birds with uncanny and sharp eyes, almost inhuman, and when he did speak—well, the boy couldn’t make up his mind what language he was supposed to talk in. Some days he spoke proper English and others he spoke Arabic, a language Petunia only knew because of her Uncles. Petunia never displayed this, never spoke the language at home or around her own child, and reprimanded the boy when he did so without prompting.

For the longest time when Harry finally started school the teachers were concerned that he had some strange sort of disability. Petunia worked to disabuse them of the notions, to get the boy to speak English as much as possible, and to remind him precisely that his Uncle would hate to hear of how freakish he happened to act. The way the small child would stare at him, with wide eyes that made her think of Lily had Petunia’s heart clenched.

At the age of eight Harry needed glasses, so Petunia took him and got him a pair and that was when she decided to contact her Uncles and let them know about the boy. She had eight years of observed interactions, and they rarely talked to her these days as their focus was on far more fruitful endeavors. Especially since Dudley showed no real signs of any sort of inheritance of the likes of Lily or herself. Petunia resented them, a little, in how they cut her out and deemed her child a failure.

“How much does he know?”

Petunia looked to Harry who stared up at the doctor that drew a bit of the boy’s blood and pursed her lips.

“Nothing,” Petunia said eventually. “Severus was never recruited.”

Her Uncle hummed and murmured a faint, “A pity. The boy had potential. His father?”

“James Potter.”

They had no records on Potter, no knowledge of the lineage, but at least now they might have a chance, Petunia noted, with how much they drew and the varied sets of samples.

“Keep him ignorant,” her Uncle said. “We might have a use for the boy.”

Petunia nodded her head and collected Harry who stared at her Uncle, and at the doctors who eyes far too old for his face.

At ten Harry came up to her dressed in Dudley’s rags. He looked at her with those too old eyes and carefully fished out a necklace with a cross and set it on the counter. Petunia looked down at the boy and refused to look at the cross he handed her.

“They can’t be trusted,” Harry said in clear spoken English with a whisper of a voice.

“No,” Petunia agreed. “They cannot.”

Two months later Harry turned eleven and the letters started to arrive. Petunia watched events unfold as Vernon grew more and more enraged with the idea of her nephew to enter that world. Petunia let him, didn’t counter any arguments he made because Petunia could admit she hated them. She hated how they turned Lily from her, and that no matter what she tried she couldn’t get her little sister back. She hated that they made her into a liar with a broken promise.

Albus Dumbledore was at least a somewhat decent whatever it was he was. He kept Petunia up to date over the years about the messes her nephew got up and into. Without his comments Petunia would never have gotten Harry into the lessons that would lead toward his survival. She didn’t like the man. He made her chest feel as if it were full of cold fire and fury. Whatever Albus Dumbledore was Petunia knew he couldn’t be trusted with her nephew’s welfare, just as he couldn’t ever be trusted with Lily’s.

Just as their Uncles couldn’t be trusted, either, but Petunia kept those misforgiving’s to herself.

That first year when Harry came home Petunia talked with him about death, and about his responsibility toward the death of his teacher. They talked in the dead of night, with whispers through the door to the boys room about what he’d seen and felt.

I didn’t like it.

You shouldn’t like it, boy.

I don’t want to kill anyone, Aunt Petunia.

Petunia explained that sometimes others didn’t care about the wants and needs of the people around him. They talked for hours, and then the twins showed up and stole the boy away. The coldness in Petunia’s heart reminded her of lies. The boy had spoken about how he never wanted to return to a world that would do what his professor had done, and then the boy was gone.

Good riddance.

Harry was near thirteen when Petunia signed him up for lessons with an old blade master that she happened to learn of from one of the neighborhood get togethers of the various wives. She hated the idea that the boy would learn to fight with a blade, but she knew a lost cause when she heard one. Harry came home that year with tales of a giant snake, of an item that possessed a girl, and of a sword that he’d barely had been capable of using to defend himself with.

It…felt natural.

To kill?

To hold a sword. Not to kill. Killing…killing isn’t natural, Aunt Petunia.

Good. Never let killing be natural, boy.

The sword lessons kept the boy out of the house while Vernon’s sister visited and kept the friction between them to a minimum. Not for the first time Petunia debated a divorce from her husband, debated to just take her son and her nephew and leave in the dead of the night. A small part of her though felt as if the choice of husband made for her couldn’t have been wrong. Her Uncles never led her astray as a girl, why would they as a woman?

Petunia hated Marge more than she hated anything, so when the boy lost control over his gift and forced the foul woman to blow up like a balloon, Petunia hid a smile in her wine glass. He left that same day, and Petunia cancelled his blade lessons with a smile still hidden on her face.

At fourteen the boy had grown to be lanky. He wasn’t tall. Vernon refused to give the boy food enough that Petunia doubted he’d ever be tall like her, but he was thin as a wisp and that was a true Evans trait. These nights Harry joined her in the living room while Vernon snored and Dudley slept. He looked haunted and confused during their whispered talks. His too old eyes looked age appropriate this summer and that felt wrong to Petunia.

Are they human?

The question haunted her, a little, Petunia knew. She wondered if what she’d been told was true. Were these ‘wizards’ and ‘witches’ the last descendants of the Precursors, or were they merely the next evolution of humanity? Petunia didn’t know science, didn’t know genetics. She followed orders like a good girl, married who she’d been told, practiced her gifts as commanded, and recited the rules as needed. She was a good puppet.

I don’t know.

I don’t think they are.

Harry spoke about how some of them could change their shape, become an animal, and how that felt unnatural and as natural as breathing to him in both ways. They talked about things, senses, that the boy had that he didn’t understand. He brought up the strange disconnect between his own memories, the fantastical tales of time travel. Petunia didn’t doubt the time travel.

There is an artifact, Petunia whispered as the boy curled into her lap in the dead of night, that can turn back time. Or at least we think it can. Ancient…powerful tools.

When Petunia looked into the boy’s eyes she knew—he understood precisely what she spoke of.

[ikonislife]

Little One.

-Jinhwan x Reader

-Fluff, parent au, mentions of sex

Being the eldest to 6 rowdy boys count as parenting right? Jinhwan questions himself as he stares wide eyes at the piece of black and white paper you had just handed him. His brain had suddenly decided to take a vacation leaving your poor man singing a high pitch wheeze that honestly sounds a lot like a dying cat choking on a hair ball.

"Baby... Husband? Jinhwanie? Mr. Kim?" You had half expected him to faint or scream to the God above but this stone statue vacated of a soul in place of your husband had left you utterly confuse. Shit... you thought. What if, what if your worst fear had finally come true... He didn't want the baby.

"Is this what I think it is? Is it just me or did you just said there's a 4 weeks old wee little peanut baby in your belly." Eyes surveying your face for any sign that this was some elaborated prank you pulled, a stunt to get back at him for pushing you into the pool fully clothed not too long ago at Bobby’s house warming party... But alas, all he could fine was solemn. Jinhwan chuckles dryly, a bit like a mad man talking to the air and his spirit floating about the room rather than directing the questions at you.

"I- yea..." you sigh dejectedly, your nightmare had truly become reality because why else would he be in this state of shock, of disbelief when you had been “practicing” making baby for as long as, no even way before he had called you girlfriend. How would you do it without jinhwan, does all this mean a divorce is imminent? Eyes no longer on him, you stare at your lap, finger fidgeting out of sorrow and anxiety. What would you do without him. for so long it’s just you and him against the world... Could you really handle this world alone, single with a baby in your arms? You let yourself sink further into the couch, doing your all to hold back the tear threatening to spill.

"Aww, baby girl. Was this what had been stressing you out do much? Come here, sweetheart." Jinhwan's arms already around your shivering body even before the sentence was over, hot kisses pressing delicately on your features and it seemed his soul had finally pulled itself together judging by that bright smile on his lips. "You've been picking at your nail again, haven't you?" His hands prying your clasped ones apart, finger smoothing over the redden and frayed skin around your chipped colored nails before a soothing kiss chases the discomfort away.

"Yea... are you angry? I'm sorry." Face digging deep in the crook of his neck, your heart revels in the soft passing of his gentle hand on your back and the tight hold he has around your waist. 

"Why would I be angry?" Befuddlement evident across his handsome features, eyes squinting in hope of deciphering your strange question. Why would he be angry, you had just told him the best news ever yet your expression so pained then revelation hits him like a freight train.   "Wait the minute... Oh my Lord, did you think I don't want our little peanut? No, baby. Don't think that." He near shriek when your words and action finally registered in his euphoric brain. “Why would you think of something so awful. You and the little one are so important to me, how could I not want either of you.” His words brought out the tears you had been trying so hard to suppress. You let all the pent up emotion go, sobbing into his chest. Jinhwan shushes your whimper with words of love and reassurance, “I will never, ever leave you or our baby. My wife is so silly.”

“I- you just frozed when I handed you the ultrasound. You went JPEG on me! I thought you didn’t want the baby or me anymore... It’s not like we’ve ever really talked about babies, I just thought it’s not time yet...” You huff out the sentence, ending it with a wail of relief but it sounded more like a dying whale if Jinhwan has to be truthful. Nevertheless, it made him smile seeing you all pouty and clingy.

“Never! I froze because I couldn’t process what you were telling me. I literally felt like I had an out of body experience. My ghost was dancing around watching me sit here like a dumb ass staring at you.” He pulls you even closer to his chest, fingers threading through your hair doing his best to calm you down with the rocking of his body. “I love you, wifey. I think you just gave me the best present in the world, I don’t know how I’m gonna ever top that. You win best spouse in this relationship.” No words could express how over the moon your man is feeling, he’s a father, a freaking father to a real baby for god’s sake. “When did you find out?” He questions, the picture of your tiny baby clutching tight in his hand as he stares in a happy stupor.

“I was late so I took a test a week ago, but I didn’t want to say anything till I was 100% certain. It was so hard hiding it with you constantly checking up on why I was so upset. I’m so sorry, now I wish I had told you sooner.” Pressing a soft kiss onto his neck, your brain could finally revel in the happy news - you’re expecting a child, with the best husband in the world, how freaking awesome is that! A dumbstruck smile on your lips as you snuggle closer to your husband, whom you dare say even more intoxicated in this joyous occasion than you are. Certainly there’ll be trial and tribulation to come in his future but for now, he’ll settle for that light buzz he got from being so blessed, from having you and your baby in his arms. 

Tour had always been grueling but perhaps it had always been a bit easier when Jinhwan didn’t have anyone at home waiting for him. It used to be a blur of stumbling in and out of the dorm to pack, a quiet ride to the airport then just random shenanigans with his brothers while waiting for the flight. Sure he got to travel places, and eat foods the next ordinary Joe might not get the chance to but the long hour of practice and insane cycle of rehearsal than stage enervated whatever energy Jinhwan got to properly enjoy the rare day off he get to wander the city. Then before he knew it, it was back to the plane for another long haul home - jet lagged and exhausted.

Then like a little miracle, you crashed into his life like a little ray of sunshine he didn’t know he needed, lightening up his days just a bit more with your silliness, laughter, and the adorable little comments about everything and anything. His heart ache to part way with you even if it’s just temporarily yet the trip itself so much more tolerable knowing in the privacy of his hotel room, he had someone to vent to and laugh with about how his day had been. Late nights when he’s worn to the bones were no longer dull because he could always count on you being a video call away, waiting to lift his mood. No longer were he sleeping endlessly in his hotel room nor eat just for the sake of eating. He began to enjoy the little things in life, getting an ice cream down the street or just a walk with the other boys. Jinhwan found himself bookmarking restaurants and jotting down names of attractions, letting his imagination ran wild as he think of the gleams of excitement in your eyes when he can finally bring you to the places he loves most. Best of all, he finally had someone to share his interests and disinterest without having to worry about being embarrass. At the end of it all, he knew once he returns home, it wouldn’t be to an empty bed and the same faces he had seen all tour long. He loves his band brothers but once in awhile, Jinhwan just needed a change and you were exactly that for him. The way you danced in elation when he finally returned home after the first time paring way for a 3 weeks tour was unlike any experience he had before. You had cried for nearly 10 minutes out of missing him and finally getting to hold him again, he couldn’t say he was any better clinging onto you for the rest of that week.

With the little Peanut growing bigger everyday, Jinhwan finds it hard to even leave the house to practice or record let alone going on a long tour. It was harder and harder for him to leave you and the bump at home, even with Hanbin nagging his ears off every day to go do his job, anything at all other than adoring his baby and wife. The second work was done, he’d bolt straight home, never mind the dinner or the occasional night out drinking with the team, all Jinhwan wants was to be home singing to the Peanut and holding you close before all three of you falling asleep. 

“Honey, you gotta get going... Hanbin is going to nag my ears off again if you’re late. Kim Jinhwan! I know you heard me.” You scream from the kitchen, throat sore from the half hour long wake up call he had you do on this morning, feigning ignorant and refusing to budge an inch.

“WHAT?! that little brat called you? He nagged at you? Uh uh, he’s gonna get it today.” Poor Hanbin, by the way your dear husband putting so much emphasis on the way he enunciated “nagged”, someone is about to get a spanking or at the very least pester till he cry of frustration. 

“Seriously, of all the things I said, that’s all you caught? You’re late, Mr. Kim. Get, before Peanut and I kick you out of the house.” Trudging over with his duffle bag in hands, you almost faint from the ear piercing scream Jinhwan let out accompanies by the shock spreading over his face. 

“Mrs. Kim, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Drop that. DROP IT!!” Jinhwan rushes over, bag yanked away from your hand before carelessly landing across the room. Jinhwan bending over, pressing light kisses on your tiny bump before pressing his whole face onto it. With arms tightening around your waist, he peers back at your cold expression completely done with his antics, sharp eyes glaring up only got sharper when he saw the absolutely nonchalant expression on your face.

“Your mama never listen to me, Peanut. Do you see what I have to put up with? Shaking my head, I told her heavy lifting isn’t good for you but she did it anyways.” Goodness, the sass in your smol man. Kneeling on the floor, Jinhwan coos at the baby that was no longer peanut sized but nevertheless the endearing nickname remained. 

“You did not just say ‘shaking my head’ out loud. Seriously, baby, the bag wasn’t even that heavy. you have like 3 shirts in there. You worry too much.” Pulling him off the floor and into your arms, you exchange a sweet chaste kiss spending the last few minutes before parting way just gazing at each other. How lucky are you to be with someone so wonderful, swaying to the music only you two seem to be able to hear... well, make that three.

The world forgotten, Jinhwan lets himself get lost in your smile and the way your eyes sparkle so brightly with love even if you keep insisting that somehow you’ve turned into a rag doll after a hurricane. Finger tracing out the line of your face delicately, he thought of those single days when this seemed so impossible, to have a loving family. Then he thought of those days where shy kisses being peppered on the first few dates and feeling the force of thousands butterflies raging in his stomach. Sure your relationship with him had started out ass backward after foolishly sleeping with each other, result of a fun night with a few too many drinks. Boundaries were gone even before they were established yet after all the difficulties for you both to acknowledge you had feelings for each other, it just felt like innocent first love and first kiss all over again.

After all this times, after all the late night of cradling your worn out body in his arms while you cried on the bathroom floor from the sheer aching of morning sickness, even after all the random outburst of fury from not having enough nutella and cheetos in the house resulting in a grumpy Jinhwan braving the cold 3AM street, you still is the best woman in the world in his eyes. He hates so much when you’d whine that you’re no longer as pretty or couldn’t compete against the other wives in his friend group because Jinhwan honestly couldn’t see how. You’ve only gotten more stunning, ravishingly, astronomically prettier since Peanut decided to grace you both with his or her present.

“I love you so much, you know that baby? I only want the best for you and the little one.” Jinhwan could feel the tear threatening to spill now, it was once again like the first time leaving on tour after claiming each other hearts all those years ago. He just didn’t want to leave, simply couldn’t.

“I know. We’ll be okay, I promise.” Your hand unknowingly travels to smooth over the tiny one, a reassuring smile on your lips chasing his own to wash away the worries on his face. 

He might seems cheeky and low key sassier than Junhoe but he’s the best man you’ve ever met. The past few months hadn’t been easy and you weren’t the best version of yourself with the constant hormonal mood swing but he took it all with grace and not a peep of complaint. 

“I just wish the appointment wasn’t when I’m oversea. I hate the thought of you being alone... I’m so sorry, honey. I-I just, I just want to be here. I feel like I’m not doing my job.” 

“But I’m not alone. I have you and I have Peanut. It’s just one appointment, baby. there’re plenty more, I’m sure of that.” Your suspicion was on the dot, Jinhwan had been lagging on packing and far more brooding over the tour because he somehow thought he’s not being a good dad by leaving you and your baby. Lips locking once more, your heart ache now that you had a glimpse of his concerned heart. You want so badly to tag along but it’d just be a distraction, and you have your own life to worry about. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll call you as soon as they get the goop off of Peanut. Plus, our moms will be there. Yeah?”

“Yea...” He replies half heartedly, sadness lingering still.

“Smile for me. Come on, let me see that fairy smile.” He forces a smile but as seconds tick by, it turns into a small genuine giggle when you poke and prod at his side. “There we go.” Your fun cut short by the nagging ringtone you had assigned to Hanbin’s number. “That should be the van. I’ll see you in a week, okay love?” Jinhwan nods before letting a lingering kiss sends him off, but not before a few soft ones on your belly.

It wasn’t until Jinhwan had sent you one last goodbye text before boarding that you let your emotion run wild - crying because you miss him, then getting angry at yourself for being so dependent. The moment he found out you were expecting, you need not lift a finger. Honestly, you were sure the queen isn’t getting treatment this good, and you doubt any servant would be as doting and adoring  the way your husband is. With him gone, every little task just seemed so impossible until you just gave up and nap. Night time is even worse without his sweet singing lulling you and baby to sleep, nor was his warmth there to keep you toasty and comfortable all night long. 

With much struggle, the big day had finally arrived, the day that had Jinhwan at the edge of his seat all month long. You awaken to 20 messages from your husband and the boys alike, ranging from just incoherent keyboard smash to hyperventilating in text form. 

With Jinhwan being the first to get married in the group, no one is more excited for a new member of the iKon family than the rest of the boys, each showing their affection in their own way, their very own extra way if you might add. Donghyuk had claimed the spot of best uncle, declaring his love for Peanut with endless gifts, even tagging along to parenting class whenever Jinhwan couldn’t. Vying for the same title, Yunhyeong had done all the research he could, perhaps even more prepared than either you nor Jinhwan is at this whole parenting thing. At one point, the old YunDong ship had literally fought each other till near sinking because they both claimed to be the best. Little did they know, uncle Chanwoo had solidified his standing with pampering you with as much food as he could, even going as far as studying up on what food will be good for the baby, always on the look out for easier way for you to be healthy without giving up too much freedom. As expected of your food buddy after all, only he’d be worry about you having alternative to give up your favorite food in avoidance of gestational diabetes. He might be a child but for sure he’ll one day be one of  the best father there ever existed one day. Hanbin had taken on the role of mother hen, nagging you to sleep, nagging you to eat, then nags you the whole way to your doctor appointment. You’re no longer allowed to be near a microwave, nor trekking across the parking lot alone without one of the boys accompanying. Strange enough, Junhoe whom usually has no part of Hanbin’s antic had also turned into a overly paranoid freak over every little thing, playing into Hanbin’s safeguard persona. Every whimper, every second your face contorted in the sheer aching of accommodating two lives in one body, He’d be right there asking all the right question and offering all the solution he could. Bobby although not taking the route of diving into books and parenting class, he was all hands on deck the moment you had announced a makeover for your house. Everything from the cot to the paint on the wall, Bobby did it himself not trusting an outsider to be handling the essentials that will nurse iKon’s “precious cargo” as he fondly refer to Peanut with that cheeky bunny smile of his.

Pushing the delightfulness of your wonderful brothers in law to the side, worrisome plaguing your mind as your car racing down the familiar streets. You didn’t hate going to the hospital without Jinhwan, you know just how hard he works for a better future for your little growing family so your heart long accepted there will be times where he won’t be there to hold your hands. Yet there’s still a lingering sadness as you walk by the waiting room, watching as women of all ages snuggling close to their significant others, their little bump happily resting in between their bodies. 

“He’ll be home soon, Y/n. Don’t worry!” Your mom speaks up never once look up from filling out the many forms prepping for your future delivery, no doubt reading your worries without even needing to face you. All the while your mother in law had already got an embrace around your shoulders, pulling you close with a reassuring smile. This must be what they called mother intuition, they always seem to know what’s wrong and what’s going on long before you feel the need to voice your concerns.

“I know, mom. Just, he really wanted to be here...” Sadden smiles shared among the two women you have so much respect for, they watch with bated breath as the familiar black and white picture playing on the small screen.

Half an hour comes and goes in a flash as the doctor wiping away the goo smeared over on your belly, eagerness and joy bubbling near the surface you couldn’t stop smiling and neither could your moms. 

“Mom.” You call out but they were already both waving you off, shoving your phone back into your hands, knowing smiles on their lips.

“Don’t worry, we’ll finish up here.”

Not a second to waste, you hastily, as hastily as a 4 months pregnant woman wadding like a duck swallowed a planet would allowed, rush toward the exit, elation no longer contain as you squeal in happiness. One ring then two, you’ve never feel so impatient before waiting for Jinhwan to pick up as your feet dance in one spot.

“BABY! YOU FINISHED, HOW’S PEANUT, HOW’RE YOU, WHAT’D THE DOC SAID?” No time for greeting, your husband near screamed your ears off the second your “hello” sounded off in his speaker. Behind his overexcited voice, a  ruckus of overlapping calls for your name and muddled up questions that sounds more of some dead language than anything that’d make sense. A cuss left your husband lips before you could hear the leader’s voice booming out, simmering down the commotion.

“So, baby is fine. She’s super healthy... Just a bit of a brat. Sigh, she’s only four months old but already taking after her dad, being a pain in the butt for mommy. I guess she’ll be daddy’s little girl.” You muses, hinting at the long time coming answer to Jinhwan’s anticipation. You couldn’t contain your satisfaction in being able to share the moment with him (and the boys) even if it’s just over the phone, loving every second you get to say ‘she’, and ‘little girl’. Quite a strange feeling finally being able to put somewhat of an image to Peanut. Thus far your dreams had all been of an faceless, mystery baby that wasn’t really yours. Now you could really let your imagination wander in details and it never felt better. If the pregnancy hadn’t feel real up till now, this was the moment that solidified it all, you’re having a baby girl, your own daughter.

“That’s really good to hear, babe. What about the important news!!!” Clamors of agreement and chants of “boy or girl” erupt in the background.

“I said, She’s only four months old but already giving mommy a headache. Definitely daddy’s little girl.” Lord, what will you do with this man child.

“Aw, is our little baby giving you a lot of pain again? I’m sorry...” He coos out apologetically, completely missing the way you’re dragging out the important words.

“Jinhwan, are you even listening to what I said?”

“Yes, yes I am. She’s giving you a lot of trouble. Daddy’s litt- NO, NOO. Seriously? for real?” Midway through that sarcastic voice he does whenever you scold him for not listening, Jinhwan suddenly caught himself smiling like an idiot, disbelief spreading all over the joyous soon to be dad. For the next minute, loud screams emanating from the speaker, uproar of confusion and Lord knows what else went on before a calm Junhoe finally picks up the phone.

“Hey, noona. So Jinhwan hyung is having a meltdown and everyone else is... excuse me.” A torturous sigh left the young boy’s lips before a muffled “Will you all shut the fuck up!” could be heard over the speaker.  “I don’t know why, he’s not even saying anything but they’re just all screaming together. So what’s the prognosis? What are we having?” He returns to that dead tone, no doubt over everyone else’s shenanigans.

“What are we having? jeez, these boys. It’s a little girl, you’re having a niece!” 

“YAH! WE’RE GETTING A NIECE!!! YA’LL CAN GO BACK TO SCREAMING NOW” By the sound of things, Junhoe had also now lost in the celebration as the ruckus only grows louder from iKon’s noise pollution yelping. Hanging up, you shake your head at just how crazy they get but contentment spreading all over your body much like the comfort of a warm hugs thinking about little Peanut, your little daughter is so lucky to have 7 men in her life that will go through whatever length to protect her. You can’t wait till Jinhwan finally arrive home to you and his baby girl. 

You feel like a whale, no, you feel like a whale corpse washed up on the beach, bloated and ready to blow at any freaking second. Why did you agreed to this, why in the world did you agreed to put on a bathing suit even if it’s in the privacy of your own hotel room. You stare then sway back and forth, turning sideway then turning back, there’s nothing you could do to look less like a puffer fish.

“Wow...” A swim trunk clads Jinhwan casually strides in, jaws on the floor as he shamelessly stare in amazement. His eyes boring holes into your body as they shift from head to toe, lingering just a bit too long on your uncomfortably swollen breasts all the while licking his lips as if you’re something delectable. 

“Don’t you dare start, Kim Jinhwan...” You warn with a finger up, hand pulling a throw over your near naked body.

“What? I can’t admire my beautiful, gorgeously hot wife now?” Ignoring the daggers from your eyes, he inches closer, cold hand trailing gently along your bare belly sending shivers through your body. Pulling you closer to his chest, his lips crashing against yours as if you hadn’t kiss in months. 

“It’s mortifying when you stare at me like that.” Mumbling against his lips, you pull a pout that though he loves, Jinhwan hates the reason behind it. You were never one to care about exposing yourself to him, never shy away from embarrassment when he’d just ogles at you in that sinful black dress you wore for his birthday a year ago, in the cheeky little yellow bikini you wore the first beach date, in the giant pizza stained white t-shirt you stole from him in baggy sweatpants when you first moved in together... He just loves to gape at you, unabashedly, a lot, all the time. Yet ever since little Peanut arrived, he’d walk in to find you pulling a bathrobe over yourself, getting annoyed when he’d barge in the middle of your shower as he always did. 

“Why, huh? Is it really that humiliating for you? Why do you keep covering yourself up around me? Baby, If you ask me to describe in detail your lady part, I could probably do it. So why all of the sudden you wouldn’t let me see you naked.” Parting way from the hug, his expression scowl when he looks down to see your hands rather than embracing back, still holding onto the piece of fabric shielding your body away from him tightly. The red throw rips away leaving your bare skin to bask in the warm sun of paradise, Jinhwan pulls your back against his chest in a soul crushing hug, nudging you closer to the spotless floor to ceiling mirror. It was now your turn to sour as you gaze upon your pudgy body, your vulnerably naked pudgy body. “Look at you, smoking hot as a mom.” He pauses for a second, hissing in enjoyment as a finger trailing the valley of your breasts. A soft kiss tingles its way from your nape to your shoulder, before stopping at your collar bone. “I don’t understand, do you not see me shamelessly staring at you all the freaking time? You turn me on so hard even when you’re in that ugly preggo night gown my grandma gave you. Did you know that, baby?” Much to his dismay, you hum a soft “no”. 

“No? Good gracious, I haven’t been doing my job then. I love you no matter what, baby.” His hands left the hold he had around your now nude breasts, tiny red bikini ripped away moments ago just so he could revel himself in the softness of your curve, basking, near moaning as he gives them light squeezes. Nails delicately scrapping along your side, kisses dotting your skin like stars blooming night sky, Jinhwan whispers praises, luring out a whimper from your lips that tell him he had won this battle. He was in a trance, so enthralls in the way your parted lips gasping softly at his every touch, your hands atop his, guiding the pleasure to places you’d crave to be touch for so long. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Don’t you miss this?”

No word could be form aside from a ragged yes, you could feel yourself shaking in anticipation of what to come. You hadn’t realize how wonderful this was nor how long it had been since you got intimate, after all, being the size of Mars really make sex difficult. Hand smoothing over your stomach, you gasp from the way his erection flushing so pleasurably tight against the curve of your ass, watching with half closed eyes that devilish smirk blooming on his lips.

“Jinhwan!” 

“Yes, baby, I know. Let me take care of you.” Sultry oozing from his tone but right now, you’re not gasping because of the hand he had snaked into our soiled bottom...

“No, no. Babe, stop. Stop for a second.” Your frantic calls tear his heart apart and the worst scenarios rummage through his brain. 

“What’s wrong. Is Peanut okay? Are you okay, baby? Let me call the hospital.” 

“No, I’m fine.” Perplex, he stands there staring at you as if you had just said unicorn is real, you waste no time grabbing his hands in yours, pressing them against your belly. “Feel that?” Still in a confused haze, he cocks his head aside for a second before a smile breaks out on his lips.

“Oh my God, oh my God. Is that... Did she... Holy shit, I’m freaking out.”Hopping in one spot, coitus forgotten, all he could focus on was that strange yet magnificent buzz in his heart feeling your baby move for the very first time. Peanut is the product of you both but thus far, Jinhwan couldn’t help but feel unreasonably jealous being the third wheel to you and your connection with Peanut. He knew there was nothing you could do to let in in but now, he could finally have a moment to himself. 

You had felt tiny bump here and there but always chalked it to your imagination, never once did you tell Jinhwan afraid of how disappointed he’d be not being able to feel anything. Right now, this moment, it solidified yet another big step for you as parents as Peanut rolls and kicks her way into both your hearts. “Hello, little one. It’s dad!” Nothing brings you more joy than watching Jinhwan interaction with Peanut, the way his eyes sparkle with glee as he coos in adoration. “Babe, babe, feel. She kicks more when I talk to her. Hello, baby. It’s daddy. i love you so so much” You chuckle at his reaction, probably too happy to remember the little one is inside your stomach and every kick, every turn you could feel. 

“Move your hand around, she’ll follow.” You suggest, joy breaks out in your heart when he follows and screech in elation when the little rambunctious Peanut’s movements follow. 

“Wait, how did you know that trick? Have you been hiding things from me again. Babbbyyyyy!!!” 

“I’m not, I swear. I’ve never gotten her to move much until today. I didn’t wanna disappoint you that’s all.”

With a fake disapproving scowl, you were completely ignored as your man get back to the important task at hand, getting his little princess go ham with him. Pulling the bathrobe over your naked body, you settle onto the bed and let your husband have his fun. Oh well, at least the little one will have a good sleep after tiring herself out from playing.

“JINHWANNIEEE. Baby!!” 

“Breathe, love, breathe. Like how we practiced.” 

Huffing and puffing over the phone, Jinhwan mentally curses at himself for not taking the management’s offer to sit out of filming for the talkshow when he had the chance. Now riding to the airport listening to your scream of pain, he blames himself for being so careless. Leaving was always hard but this time, something about it bothered him so, perhaps because your range of mobility is that of a 3 months old, perhaps it’s because Peanut arrival date a mere few weeks away. He was antsy, itching to return when he barely boarded even when you had did your absolute best to persuade him everything will be fine until he returns. Well look how it’s all blown up in his face now. He’s so crazy for actually believing his almost 9 months pregnant wife that everything will be fine, everything is not fine! “Love, I’m boarding now. I’ll be back to you and Peanut soon okay? I love you both so much. You’re the toughest woman I know, you’ll be okay. Love you.”

“I love you too. Hurry, babe.” 

Phone thrown aside, your hands rubbing your stomach as if it would sooth the unbearable pain that showing no sign of subsiding, never mind the mess you had made on the living room couch. No class, no advice could possibly have prepare you for the real torturous waves of contraction, to make it so much worse, Jinhwan isn’t here to hold your hand, to tell you that everything is okay. Were you stupid to push him off to work when you knew Peanut could be here any seconds? Who would’ve thought she would come two weeks early with her dad being away of all thing. 

“Little one, come on. Just a little longer, mommy can hold out. Wait for your dad, okay? Be a good girl, wait for your dad.”

You whisper, hoping your baby will understand your desperation as another round on flesh searing pain radiates out. The second you were seated in the wheelchair, fate in the hand of the hospital staffs, you text Jinhwan again even if it can no longer reach the man, you just need for him to know you’re both safe. Somewhere above the city, Jinhwan prays to God to be with you and thankful the trip wasn’t over sea but a mere few cities over. The hour spent on the plane had been the longest hour Jinhwan had ever experienced, the hardest hour even with the long trainee period and two survival shows in his pocket. A throng of texts flooding his phone like a bad omen leaving the man running out of the airport, leaving all his belongings for the other boys to collect. All he could think was you.

“Hi, baby girl.” He whispers over the phone, although not sure why. 

“Jinhwannie... I’m so scare.” That’s why, he thought the second your wavering voice reaches his ear. He has to be calm, now is not the time to panic, not when you’re the one that’s about to shove a human being out.

“It’s okay, love. Listen to my voice, okay? breathe”

At the sweet sound of your husband, your worries and pain almost magically enervate, leaving a serenity to wash over your being. Suddenly the many needles poking at you, the nurse that keep staring at your lady part every few minutes just disappear. Your breath slow when your brain finally registers that soothing velvety voice, he talks about his day, then the dog he had saw, anything really but it calms you. 

“I’m almost there,sweetheart. How’s Peanut, is she being a bad little girl again? Hurting mommy?” 

“No, she’s perfect right now. The doctor said she’s right where she needs to be.” You gasp when another wave of contraction hits, hissing in an effort to hide your panic but as always, your husband knows better.

“Hey, hey, remember. Breathe, come on, do it with me. In and out. I’m at the front, love. I’ll be right there.” 

Phone shoves away, Jinhwan races agains the clock toward the source of his happiness. His heart beats faster with each step he takes but it wasn’t because of exhaustion, but rather the delightful on cloud nine warmth that was spreading over his body. 

“BABY!” he calls out with all the strength he could mustered up but you didn’t believe it at first, refusing to look away from the tiny human that already got both her mom and dad wrapped around her tiny fingers. Jinhwan couldn’t help but shed a tear at the wires attaching to your body, his mind couldn’t even dare to imagine the pain you were in so he did the only thing he could, the best thing he could. Jinhwan pulls your body into his, lips pressing against your slick with cold sweat skin. “It’s alright, baby.”

“Jinhwan! You’re here.” He’s here, he’s really here was all you could think about for a while, snuggling close to his chest. Your emotion run free as tears of happiness and of fear stream from your face leaving you a blubbering mess.

“Hey, shh. Don’t talk, just sit still. This might hurt okay? But it’ll help the pain.” You follow his sight to see a giant needle heading right for your back, jerking away out of instinct. Jinhwan lets you cling on him, squeezing his hands to a point of pain but he only responds with a smile. The small sobs from your lips rip his heart and soul apart but soon, it’ll be all over so for now, he’ll be strong for you.

The next few hours was a blur of the strange quietness of the drug blocking your pain away, Jinhwan watching over as you finally got a chance sleep then the ruckus of nurses and the iKon boys running in and out of the small hospital room. Yet even with all the confusion, all the insane things that was going on during birthing, he could  remember a few things very very clearly - the way your head leaning into his chest for support and that tired but content smile, how he wishes to take this weight off your shoulder watching your feature contort then twist as you use all your strength to push, when your body drop onto the stained bed knowing it was finally all over half crying half laughing, then the most beautiful sound he had ever heard when his baby cry out. 

He’s a dad.

Jinhwan thought little Peanut was the most perfect thing in the world even when she’s still covered in blood and guts. The cute little nose and the way her tiny fingers grasping so tightly around his unlike anything in this world. He hugs her close, settling next to your worn out form, smile never left his face even though his cheeks hurt.

“Look, mama. I’m here” He coos softly, being the pillar and support you need before handing the little bundle over into your arms. “She’s so beautiful, so beyond perfect just like your mommy.” His finger reaches out caressing her fluffy little cheek as Peanut gazes up with her cute doe eyes, a little smile at her lips when her dad voice enveloping her in love. “She has your eyes, baby. Look! even her smile, she got mommy’s smile. Lucky her!” 

“She has daddy’s nose, lips, and beauty mark though.”

Too spent to say much, you lean back and watch the way Jinhwan worship and adore his daughter before with a sadden pout, he hands her back for a bath as the doctor tends to your raw bleeding lower half but not before he presses another delicate kiss on her forehead with a quick “I love you” that had even the nurses melting. You couldn’t feel pain, not because of drug but because of Jinhwan and your daughter. Not once did he leaves your side, checking back every few seconds as you both being wheel into the private of your room. 

A gentle smile creeps onto your lips when familiar faces gathered in front of your room as you passed the threshold, with a wave, you let sleep lulls you into its embrace. Drowsy, worn, you whisper for Jinhwan to introduce the little one as the boys gather around the tiny couch before finally closing your eyes. As you drifting away with the sandman, you could make out a proud father cradling his baby to his chest as he smugly announces her arrival before darkness takes over.

“Uncles, meet little Peanut!”

[planbeeeee]

2020 Oscars Predictions

Inspiration.

I’ve been thinking about inspiration the last two weeks. 

I, like many of you, spent the better part of January 26-28, overwhelmed with the tragic passing of Kobe Bryant, his daughter, Gigi, and 7 other victims of a helicopter accident in California. It was information overload that day. Refreshing the social feeds didn’t help. News went from bad to worse. No rollercoaster of emotions, this just felt like a pit. 

The news dominated Sunday.

But long lost clips of interviews and heartfelt stories took over on Monday and Tuesday, and I was truly blessed by it. There was one clip I saw more than any other. It wasn’t Kobe dropping 81 against the Raptors, or him scoring 60 on his final game. It wasn’t the lob to Shaq, the dunk over Dwight, the free throws after tearing his achilles. No, it was of him and his daughter Gigi sitting courtside at a random Haws-Nets game at the end of last year. Just talking ball, father to daugher, mentor to mentee... inspiration to inspiration.

Kobe Bryant, one of the greatest basketball players to ever play the game, won an Oscar in 2018 for Best Animated Short Film for his retirement announcement letter put to music and illustration called Dear Basketball. The final words of his acceptance speech he speaks to his wife and daughters in Italian and tells them he “loves them with all his heart” and that they are his “inspiration.” 

You see inspiration is that enthusiasm you get from someone or something that drives you to create something extraordinary. It is not earned or deserved. Inspired work stands apart from everything normal. 

That’s exactly what appeals to me the most about the Oscars. We get to look back in the year that was and award those truly inspired pieces of art through film. The value beyond this is that inspiration is, as David Brooks in his NY Times Op Ed put it:

“...a beautiful contagion that passes through individuals. The word itself comes from the Latin inspirare, meaning “to breath into.” One inspiring achievement — say, the space program — has a tendency to raise the sense of possibility in others — say, a little boy who dreams of being an astronomer. Then the one who is inspired performs his own feats and inspires others, and so on down the line.” 

In truly contagious fashion, this year we may see a former athlete win an Oscar for his Animated Short Film called Hair Love. Matthew Cherry tells a heartfelt story of an African American father learning to do his daughter’s hair for the first time. It is worth ALL 6 minutes and MORE. 

Cherry, a former NFL player, has spoken very openly about how he was inspired by Kobe’s film... and here we are. 

A basketball legend inspired by his daughters 

A daughter inspired by her father to pursue basketball

A former athlete inspired by a former athlete to create a short film

“Success is not just what you accomplish in your life, it is about what you inspire others to do.”

---

Bee’s 2020 Oscars Predictions

Year 7! Last year was tough even though I got 5/7 correct. I included Best Documentary Feature last year so it helped my numbers but since I didn’t see any of the full length documentary films this year I’m crossing it out and replacing it with Best Animated Feature. Got to 44 movies in 2019, 1 shy of last year’s total. So close. 2019 was a really bad year in movies for a while but then Q4 turned up the heat and it ended up being one of the better years in recent memory. So let’s dive in!

Best Picture

Will Win & Hope Wins: Parasite- It comes down to Parasite and 1917 for me. I LOVED them both. Any other winner would be just absurd here. Parasite is a 100% lock to win Best Foreign Language Film, and I believe it is well deserving of becoming the first film ever to win both that and Best Picture. Director Bong Joon Ho created a masterpiece that is now in my Top 10 movies of All-Time. It is the best film I’ve seen since 2015 (The Big Short) and I think the depth of storytelling, suspense and symbolism is just near perfection. 

Lead Actress

Will Win & Hope Wins: Renee Zellweger, Judy- Here’s the answer to the inevitable question “Where has she been this whole time?” Renee Zellweger did take a 6-year acting hiatus from 2009 to 2015. Her portrayal of an overwhelmed Judy Garland is in many ways representative of her own struggle with the rigors of Hollywood. Judy was a subpar, biopic but Renee Zellweger was extraordinary in it. 

Lead Actor

Will Win & Hope Wins: Joaquin Phoenix, Joker- No one on earth could play Joker like that. It was such an intense performance on his part. The movie was hard to watch at times but you just couldn’t take your eyes off him. Usually biopics are the way to go for winning best acting oscars. The Lead Actor category has had a winner in biopic films in 6 out of the last 7 Oscars. Joaquin will make it 6 for 8. If for no other reason to hope he wins, that acceptance is going to be entertaining to say the least!

Director

Will Win: Sam Mendes, 1917- The “one-shot” was better than any movie has ever done it. Some saw it as a gimmick but I just thought it worked so seamlessly with the plot of the movie. 1917 goes down as one of my favorite war movies of all-time. Mendes has one Oscar for directing already for American Beauty and he’s definitely deserving of this year’s prize as well. 

Hope Wins: Bong Joon Ho, Parasite- I’m a member of the Bong Hive. What can I say?! It’s so hard to make a movie with no clear protagonist or antagonist. You’re not rooting for anyone, as the audience you are most literally along for the ride. I should also note that weeks later the movie sticks with you like glue but I honestly forgot it was all in Korean. The linear storytelling and purposeful nature of every scene and dialogue comes so clear in his work. 

Supporting Actress

Will Win: Laura Dern, Marriage Story- Marriage Story just didn’t work for me. Laura Dern was fine but I really think people are overvaluing her performance. I tried my hardest to empathize with the circumstances surrounding their ugly divorce but unless you have a kid and are consumed with your work, I don’t think you can relate. The acting was good but there were so many unnecessary elements. I’ll just say for those that watched: Box cutter?!

Hope Wins: Scarlett Johansson, Jojo Rabbit- It’s the year of Scar Jo! Nominated for Lead in Marriage Story, Supporting in Jojo Rabbit, and was a part of the highest grossing film of all-time in Avengers: Endgame. She really came into her own this year flexing her acting muscle. She was so good in Jojo Rabbit. Presented strength and weakness in such a believable way. She’s never been nominated before so all the more reason to pull for our Black Widow here.

Supporting Actor

Will Win & Hope Wins: Brad Pitt, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood- Pitt has been around acting in enjoyable movies for such a long time now (Seven, Fight Club, Snatch, Troy, Ocean’s, Moneyball, etc) but he has no Oscars hardware to show for it. He was in Best Picture winning 12 Years a Slave but that award was for the film as a whole. It’s time Pitt deserves his recognition. Both his role and Margot’s were almost pseudo leads. Also the rest of the competition in the category is relatively weak (Hopkins in Two Popes was great though). 

I should point out as well that his production company has for years now been involved in moving the needle on diversity in film. 12 Years a Slave was the breakthrough but since then they’ve produced:

Selma

Moonlight

Okja

The Last Black Man in San Francisco (should have nominated for Best Picture over Ford v. Ferrari)

Would love to see Pitt and his production company get its due. Oh by the way the name of said production company:

Animated Feature

Will Win: Toy Story 4- I didn’t see it. But I heard it’s not as good as Toy Story 3.

Hope Wins: Klaus- In the mold of Polar Express and Home Alone, this could be a yearly Christmas-time watch for me. It was entertaining and different and meaningful all wrapped into one animated feature film. It’s on Netflix so if you haven’t seen it, don’t even wait for Christmas to watch it.

---

Best Picture Films Ranked

Parasite- 9.1

1917- 8.7

Little Women- 8.4

Jojo Rabbit- 8.2

Joker- 7.7

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood- 7.7

Ford v. Ferrari- 7.5

The Irishman- 7.1

Marriage Story- 6.8

My Top 9 Movies of 2019

Parasite

1917

Blinded By the Light

The Farewell

Avengers: Endgame

Little Women

Jojo Rabbit

Us

Always Be my Maybe

*Endgame better win best Visual Effects. This slight against comic book movies is so tiring. See you next year!

[briteboy]

stealing @bratsims format because i need a less ugly way to mass answer your messages which will hopefully motivate me to stay on top of this! at least i can say i tried

so if you sent me an anon message in the past...idk MONTH (i’m bad i know) it might be here. (older ones are near the bottom) if not, check my faq because it’s probably answered there. (and if you’re the person/people who sent the twin flame & 7th house asks, i plan to answer those separately because i have a LOT to say. get ready)

game of thrones, nuclear war, real life santis, lou theories, i’m evil, HERE WE GO!! i literally had to cut it off at the last one because it was just too much for now. i’ll try to answer some more later ok

we’re starting off on a great note

Anonymous said: gaddamn rooney's tiddies lookin' hella ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

STOP!!!!!!!!!!! THAT’S MY CHILD soaidfnjds she’s supposed to have like b/c cups (goals for me tbh, the big boob life is not fun) and sims 4 pregnancies just fuckin make them...NYOOM i’m mad you can’t edit sims’ bodies during pregnancy even with cas.fulleditmode on -___- so i let her live with her giant preggo tiddies for now

Ngl I want a kiss between Santi and Gianni (I'm sorry I'm literally trash)

then i’m here to satisfy your desires: they do kiss periodically because gianni is one of those people who’s like “why shouldn’t you kiss your friends?” free love 4 everyone

IM SCREAING AT UR YOUTUBE CHANNEL OK!!!! I LOVEEE IT, WOW

DON’T IT’S UGLY EXCEPT FOR LIKE TWO VIDEOS

hey this is kinda random but i thought joe seaward from glass animals looked kinda like santi? he has quite a weird face too lmao

oMG i actually love that, i know what you mean. that dude reminds me of a bull terrier lmao i actually saw glass animals like two weeks ago!! i didn’t really get a good look at the drummer but now i wish i did. missed connection

i just finished reading santi's story and ugh it almost had me in tears! beautiful, your story telling skills and editing skills are perfection!

ahhhhsdkgkds thank you so much ;____; that means the world to me <333

Unpopular opinion: im so done with game of thrones tbh. It's not even good anymore :/ I liked the first season but since then i've skipped through episodes because they are just sooo fucking boring and dragged out!

see like the first three seasons were pretty good because they stayed true to the books. (actually that’s a lie, littlefinger’s chaos speech in the s3 finale was real fuckin bad because guess what: it was original material LMAO) the fourth season was where it started to get messy and then the fifth season was a fucking shitshow because they completely IGNORED the fourth book and cherrypicked all the “good” parts out of it (read: the most action-y parts, while ignoring all the most important pieces of character development) and they botched the dorne storyline, oh and who could forget the iconic moment of throwing in a rape (THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN IN THE BOOKS) just for fun :) love it! but anyway if you think the show is boring i probably wouldn’t recommend the books, they’re even slower getting through them lmao. but it’s worth it in my opinion. there’s so much they don’t include in the show and it makes me Angery

Okay, game of thrones fan here, I haven't read the books (yet at least, I bought book 1) but I feel like dany is going to practically turn into her father, this season she is already showing traits like his.......

OH YEAH i definitely feel like they’re moving in that direction in the process of revealing jon as the “true” king of westeros and it’s so bad lmfao. the thing is, like...cersei is already mad king 2.0? why do we need another one?????? the entire point of dany’s arc is that she’s constantly trying to deviate AWAY from the way her father ruled, demonstrated by the fact that she freed the slaves (whereas all the targaryens before were slave owners), the fact that she’s not perpetuating the whole incest thing (LMAO GUESS AGAIN BECAUSE JONERYS HAS TO HAPPEN FOR SOME FCKING REASON), the fact that she has dragons which haven’t existed in how many years...like, if she ever ends up being like her father in the books, it’s NOT gonna fucking happen like this. but i don’t think she will anyway, george rr martin has been pretty clear about her trajectory thus far. anyway this show is so ugly, next question

rooney's eye are so BIG

just like her tiddies lmao i kno sometimes i forget how big they are and then she does one of those silly endearing animations and i’m like o ;-; hello big dumb baby cow eyes

Cows? Are you secretly Matthew Daddario?

WHO i had to google him lmao i was about to say “oh the teen wolf guy” but jk @ myself u idiot it’s shadowhunters damn i literally googled “matthew daddario cows” and

tru

I love how fragile Lou looks like but the truth is that she is strong af and you can't play with her bruh

SHE IS ;-; and that’s a huge theme in her story, i’m excited <3

ima leave ur blog and come bk and spam you so you will finally notice me

im part of this online forum of girls that talks about our period and weather or not one of us might be pregnant and once this girl posted saying that her husband invited his mom without telling her to thier honeymoon and she didnt find out until they arrived at the hotel and she was already there. the most recent part reminded me of it. but long story short, her dad moved all her stuff out of his house and her friend came to pick her up and they got a divorce.

OISOJDFAKNLJSD WHAT!!! i’m guessing you sent this because of that thing i said about the reddit post lmfaooo imagine your mom on your honeymoon. why. that’s soooooooooo good 4 her u know. u don’t need to be married to his mom as well

thanks 4 trusting my love santi. he's beautiful

thank u he thinks ur beautiful too 💘

do you have any tips for runing game in good quality and fast?

euhhhhh the only tips i have for you are to merge your cc, close all other programs while you play your game, maybe invest in a cooling pad uhhhhhh yeah idk any other tips you can probably find on google

You told that thing about unfollowing people and I thought you unfollowed me, but then I checked and you didn't and I'm crying omg

lmao omg ;-; i literally cut my following list in half, it was so chaotic and it was making me anxious. so if ever unfollow any of you please don’t take it personally (i know it’s a stupid thing to say, and it’s a lot easier said than done) it’s just my brain explodes when there’s too much going on at once and some content blends into others, i’m trying to only follow people who i’m genuinely interested in enough to keep up with their posts from now on

I haven't been able to sleep in over 72 hours thanks to the constant fear over the looming world war. I'm fine. Completely fine

Oh shit, have you noticed that the media has been putting out more 'what to do during a nuclear attack' kinda articles? This world is slowly going to shit, for real. I'm not even near any of the danger really, but it still absolutely terrifies me to see all of that bc it could very well go wrong and hit my place as well yknow? I have no idea why i send this to you but you seem chill and calm so thanks for reading my freakout askfjsls

YEP it’s pretty terrifying. but at the same time don’t let fear overwhelm you, fearmongering is an ugly, ugly thing and you don’t want to live your life constantly worrying. so just prepare yourself for what might come, but at the same time, just spend as much time with your loved ones as you can, do all the things you’ve ever wanted to do, and then if it doesn’t turn out as bad as we thought it would, you *tim mcgraw voice* lived like u were dyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyin’

@ Jesus anon: I really don't think it's the right time to complain about "using the lord name in vain" when there are people terrified of leaving their homes bc they are afraid to get killed (aka that poor, poor Jewish anon in charlottesville)

yeah idk like i want to respect everyone but it seemed to be in poor taste to bring that up at a time like that lmao. and also i’ve literally never in my entire life met someone who actually takes “don’t say the lord’s name in vain” seriously. 

I asked about the poses and HOLY CRAP THANK YOU SO MUCH! I finally have good poses to use for story telling. Thank you soo so so so sooooo much!

YAY i’m glad you found some good stuff <3 and honestly just going through lana’s blog you’ll find a ton of good poses, it’s a gold mine

Idk how much tv you watch, but have you've ever come across a tv show that used music from The Sim? Because once in a while I'll hear Sims 3 build/buy music on some random show and I'll get a lil shook because I find it so weird that the generic music they're using comes from a major game title.

OMG LMAO NO what i wish i’d come across that tho. one time i used sims 1 music in a video i made for school and someone recognized it

I love your stories gosh I check your page "it's everyday bro with femmesim flow" Lol sorry for that awkward Jake Paul "poop" ❤️

lmao thank u i had no idea who jake paul was until my friends started talking about him

yo, I also remember once in french class real life santi asked me what videos games I like to play. When I told him the sims, he looked at me for a while and shaked his head. He was like, "why do you want to watch your sims use the toilet?"

WHY DO YOU WANT TO WATCH YOUR SIMS USE THE TOILET SAME that’s all i care about when i play

that rooney face in the 5 facts is so iconic, its my fave picture of her. You should blow it up and frame it

i should tbh. i should print it out and put it in my wallet to show everyone because she is my child

sorry the bother you, merging cc makes your game smoother? can you explain to me please?

boop

hi i love you ♡ pass it on

I LOVE U

Can I say that hearing a MacBooks fans screaming for dear life as they try to cool down when playing the sims has actually started to haunt my nightmares

SAME my macbook is actually doing it right now for no reason. thanks laptop

Maybe Santi should go to therapy to talk out his issues.

maybe he should 🤔  but tbh he’s already talked out everything, there’s nothing really more to talk out. he just has to cope with it. he’s treated lou like his therapist thus far and that’s not okay

i love ur story and omg i totally get where lou is coming from with being tired of being compared to molly by santi, thatd hurt so much esp with how much she cares about him

thank youuu ;-; i’m glad you understand, this was a part i’d wanted to get out for a loooong time now, and i know you guys were always like “um why does she put up with this” lmao. she just loves him, that’s why. but you’re right, it does hurt.

My theory is very similar to the other anons in that Fiona's dad/Lou's ex had a mental illness (schizophrenia, depression, what have you) but he actually did kill himself and that's why she's not completely losing it on Santi because I feel like most people in that situation would have not handled it as well as Lou did

🤔 you’re right about the last part, and there’s a reason she has so much patience, das all i’m sayin

i started your story from the beginning last night and i am in awe. Its amazing. It inspired me to put a little more effort in learning to edit and write. It was like reading screen caps from a movie! I didn't want to stop reading. Anyway thing was a super sappy ask, but i appreciate your stuff. And i'm bad at putting my thoughts into words.

omg ;__________; when people tell me i inspired them it means the most to me, my brain just can’t process it lmao. so thank you so so much ;-; <333 THE MOVIE THING ESPECIALLY GOT ME IN THE HEART because i feel like that’s my aesthetic with most things i create because i’m such a film person lol. don’t worry i love super sappy, and you did a good job of wording everything because it got me right in the feels <33

Okay I've been snickering for about 43 minutes bc SANTI GOT THAT GRU CHINNN

WOT is that i googled it and the only thing that came up was the dad from despicable me lmfaosdkjfs but ok

Please, please do punk edits of your some of your characters! I'd die.

WHAT DOES THIS MEANNN do you mean like. those 2010 tumblr edits of punk disney characters and then the joker from suicide squad looked like one of them. do u want santi to be the joker. because my boyfriend already relates him to suicide squad joker because of his face tatt lmao

You love to make me cry

i do i’m sorry. if it makes you feel any better i love to make myself cry too. but my biceps grow stronger with every tear

I reeeally dont think those chancla comments were offensive??? Why would they be?? I'm hispanic (born and raised in the sunny Dominican Republic, received a fair amount of chancletazos myself) and I laughed out loud when i read them 😂😂

I JUST WANT U TO KNOW I SHOWED @ichosim THIS MESSAGE AND SHE LAUGHED FOR 12 HOURS AT “CHANCLETAZOS”

whATT my little brothers name is santiago n we call him santi for short!! guess it's not rly that uncommon but we live in a small country and he's also 4 so like,, no other santiagos!! idk why im saying this its completely irrelevant just kinda surprised me :'))

OMG wow hell yeah another real life santi...santi acts like a 4 yr old so he might as well be your brother

Just curious.. Do you play sims or just use it for storytelling? Sorry if thats weird haha

well my recent gameplay pics should answer your question lmao. i do like to play but i don’t have enough time to both play and pose scenes so i mostly just pose scenes for now. :[ i am gonna be off work for like two weeks tho so hell yeah gameplay here i come!!

I'm starting a Fiona appreciation movement because she is the real star of santis story RT and i love her and she is way underappreciated and I love her KThxBi

SHE IS THE REAL STAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i’ve said this before but santi’s relationship with her is the most important to me, out of every relationship he has in this story. i’m so glad you love her so much, sorry about what’s about to come in the next few scenes tho

Oh my heart, Santi is alive, god exist

I have a pretty hard time understanding Santi's story mostly because I'm not English but I'm sure I'll figure it out:)

ahh oh no D: i’m sorry i wish i spoke every language in the world lmao. if you want, you can message me off anon and i’ll help you understand it!!

Lou is an angel honestly

“there are worse things than seeing an angel before you die”

what tablet do you use? or how do you draw hair? it looks so pretty.

omg haha i don’t have one! i wish i did tho. all of the brushes i got from deviantart, i’m trying to find the specific ones but they’re all elusive wtf. i’ll post them when i find them! for now, here’s a good guide to drawing hair, by airi <3

Nah nah I always knew you'd save him.....eheheeh.....THANK YOU FOR NOT KILLING BABBY SANTEEEEEEEEE DNDDNSKANW YOU WOULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH BLOOD ON UR HANDS AS ALL UR FOLLOWERS COLLECTIVELY DIE FROM A BROKEN HEART BUT DW WE DIDNT BECAUSE UR QN ANGEL....but I toooootally knew you'd save him... /sweats/

I’M GLAD U HAD FAITH <3 i know omfg i would’ve expected a mob at my house if i’d actually killed him. if i ever killed him i would just lay down somewhere and die. that’s it for me

Lou & molly almost always have teeth showing, do you draw them on each pic?x

no, only sometimes i’ve drawn them when i felt like their mouths weren’t matching the expression i wanted. but most of the time it’s just the pose.

is it too late to send 16k dollars to guarantee santi's inclusion in a loving home with loving friends

it is absolutely never too late to send me 16k i promise you that

I just bought school books for $550 who knew studying marine biology could be so fuckING EXPENSIVE

EWW WTF...i’ve been lucky and haven’t had to spend a ton on books in my college career (one time i even went to such lengths that i got access to free trial version of one of my school books in a pdf, screencapped EVERY SINGLE PAGE, which was more than 400 pages, just so i wouldn’t have to spend $70 on it. i love cheating the system)

waIT i never saw ur selfie where is it, must see

u could probably just search “selfie” on my blog and find it, or enjoy the ugly closeup drunk snap i posted last night

Hey guys I'm a happy trans man that has no mental illnesses. I'm fucking pissed about Trump's ban. And to any one that says it's logical FUCK YOU! I'm having flashbacks to don't ask, don't tell because this is the same fucking wacked up logic. I'm so angry, like I'm a human, yes I may require testosterone shots once a month but that's it, I even administer them to myself. I pay for them with my own god damn money so fuck you transphobic bigots who say this law is fair. It's not. WE ARE HUMAN TOO Also same anon that ranted. Sorry about that I'm just really pissed and I love and thank you for sticking up for the community. We love you and I love you. And you're right not all trans people transition. We all do what we want to. Some start on T or E and have the full surgery. Some just have top surgery. Some just do testosterone or estrogen. Some never do anything. We're all still trans and we're all valid.

YES ALL OF THIS, sorry i didn’t answer this when it was all happening. but askdkjfas thank you for this message, I LOVE YOU TOO, SO MUCH <333 and i’m glad you feel comfortable enough to voice this in my inbox. yes every trans person is valid no matter what they decide to do with their bodies <3

One of those old hot topic shirts that said " if Darryl dies we riot " but with santi instead of Darryl.

OMG LMAOOOOO NOW THAT’S A CONCEPT who’s making these i want one

your use of references and reaction pics and gifs fucken KILLS ME

Crystal anon here. I googled around my area to find there are none of those y'know, crystal, candle, incense, magic type shops. I have panic attacks when I go outside and I wanted to look into alternative stuff since I'm on meds and w/e. I wanted to know if you or friends had any experience or recommendations for buying crystals online like on etsy or amazon. How can you tell if they're real?x

ooooh ok. usually there are shops like those in cities or even in towns with like kitschy little promenades with independent shops. (i know there’s one around the town over from mine, which is so random lmao) i do have friends that have crystals but i think they mostly just collect them for the ~good vibez~ and don’t really look too far into the healing aspects of them. i would say first go with the one that coincides with your birth because those are the ones that are like specifically catered to you and strengthen your being. as for buying online, hmmmmm i mean i don’t really know any specific trustworthy sellers because i don’t have much experience with this, but definitely read the reviews! those will help you a lot <3

Hello could you please tell us how you edited the pic of rooney in that one post that the anon asked for the unedited version?

i honestly didn’t do much of anything that differs from my usual editing process! i made her eyes a bit bigger by using the clone tool, cloning the top of her eye and applying it a little bit farther up...if that makes sense. it’s hard to explain how to use that tool lmao. and i think i used the liquify tool to bring part of her eyebrow down to look more worried.

there's still a part of me that says she ain't dead and molly is just in a coma lmao end mE

OMFLDKGKJS yeah she’s not dead surprise. i WILL say there is still flashback stuff that will be revealed. well not “revealed” like molly’s death was revealed, like i just still have to showcase some things that happened afterward. because it doesn’t just end with molly’s death, there’s stuff after that as well :~}

I'm Mexican, have lived around Mexicans, have been to Mexico multiple times growing up, just came back from a family trip at practically the border between Mexico and Guatemala and never in my life have I ever heard the word "joder" i had to look it up xD (not hating or anything I just thought I'd mention it cuz I found it funny...lol) k bye...

OK NOT SURE IF the ppl you’ve been around just don’t curse or whatever but...joder is DEFINITELY something i’ve heard mexican people say before lmao

Okay so this is random, but i was telling my sister the name of one your characters in ur story (santi) and she kinda just starts singing his name, and she said "santi high, santi low, santi go." And im just sitting there, like woah.

LMFAO WHATKNJDSKJGD “woah” same

u gonna incorporate fis hat into a really like emotional sad thing in her story huh

oMG i wasn’t planning on it but hmm 🤔

Why no el chingo? NO ME GUSTA (I'm joking btw ily)

LMFAOOOO because i didn’t wanna have to defile my son by downloading the penis mod RIP

let santi grow out dem eyebrows 2kforever

omg he does let them grow out except for the little line he shaved in when he was 14 that never grew back RIP

in ur bio it says "kt" and i know why,, it means killing them as in killing off ur characters slowly i see u gurl

i bet this story was just an excuse for you to see the world burn. well done.

OMG i mean, that was definitely one of the side effects of it all. but really it was just that i NEEDED to get this story out after it had lived in my brain for so long.

ur dead 2 me

I... just.... can't... too much pain Y U DO DIS 2 UZ?!?!!!

[sofeyhh]

Enigma

*The BTS Private Boarding School Au

Part 11 / ?

“Jung Hoseok!”

He groans internally from where he was sitting at the corner of the bar. Anytime that his full name is being called out it was either: his mum finding his secret stash of cigarettes, his teacher criticizing him for his horrible hand writing or his nosy neighbours trying to catch him in a slip of a tongue. And since both his mother and teacher isn’t here, it could only mean one thing. Hoseok downs the last of his margarita and puts up a grin, dreading the upcoming conversation.

“Mrs Milstein!” he exclaims. “It’s been a while. How is Stacey? I heard she managed to secure a position in the Academy.”

The woman was stick-thin, on the verge of having her ribs slice through her skin and dress. Her bony fingers and shoulders were the only dead giveaway of her age - ‘oh please, 56 is such an absurd age’ she liked to say. Her face, however, made her look 26 in the gaudiest way. The endless surgeries and botox done to the poor lady has her cheeks frozen like apples and her skin stretched back that her beak-like of a nose stands out even more. Hoseok was silently glad to be able to wake to a beautiful mother every weekend.

“Ah-ha! Not a surprise is it? My two older sons are the golden boys in St Strachan so it’s only fitting that my Stacey has the brains to be accepted. I’m sure Mr Jeon was a little bias when he picked the new batch. To have the Milstein triple threat in that school, oh! It would lift the Academy’s grades up. Have you heard? Apparently, St Strachan is having trouble with their performance.”

The Milstein brothers - something Hoseok was very familiar with. They were the worst scumbags to grace the prestigious Academy, dragging their greasy ass everywhere there was a conflict to stir trouble. “The seed doesn’t fall far from the tree” suited the Milsteins perfectly. During his first year in St Strachan, he had been the target of the brothers’ taunting. Hoseok carried the status of ‘lowest income’ in school for at least two years after the students found out his family earned the least amongst everyone else. So before he met Yoongi, he had to endure the daily mistreatments of the Milstein brothers.

“You might want to check on your sons’ grades then. They might have something to do with the downfall.” The words slip out of him before he could bite his tongue, instantly regretting it.

Conversing with people like Mrs Milstein is like a constant game of mouse and cat. And if you were to fall into the trap of their gloating, they won’t hesitate to attack you with whatever gossip they have on you. Hoseok wished that either Jin or Taehyung was with him. Those two knew how to snake their way around conversations like these.

“My, quite the bitter little devil aren’t you,” she jibed and chortled. Her garish purple lips spread into a wicked smile. “It must be your personal vendetta to come after my boys. They told me about how you were upset about them getting accepted into the school’s team instead of you.”

No matter how hard he tries to hold it back, he can’t seem to stitch his mouth shut. He just hated it when there was no truth to their insults. Yes, those bulky boys got accepted into the school’s team - they were all brawns and no brains - and he did not. No, he wasn’t upset. Hoseok practically begged Jungkook, the captain, to let him off. He preferred a seat in the fencing club, a more refined sport than lacrosse.

“Well, I can’t be too upset about it when there are rumours about the captain having to sack them off the team for their poor academic performance. But hey, they’re your golden boys after all. At least my parents are blessed enough to see their only son score in the top tens.” There was a hint of hostility in his voice.

Now he’s got her riled up.

She scoffs and huffs, her frown barely visible on her plastic face. “Hmm, and what good will that do? Even if you manage to get yourself into Hawkings University are you sure your dear parents able to afford it? Yes, last I heard, your family company’s going down in the gutter. They must be so embarrassed to not show their faces here.”

Now she’s got him infuriated.

Hoseok’s lips rest in a grim line with his cheeks red, broken down and defeated. He felt disappointed in himself for biting onto her bait and falling into her trap. To hear a woman like that disparage his parents fuelled his anger. But his mother’s calming voice said, “In this world, there’s bound to be people who get a kick out of seeing you in turmoil. The best thing to do is to keep your head up and walk away.”

And so he did just that. Cutting down on his ego with all his might, he greets her a good evening and walks away. Passing by blurry faces as his steps speed up, he dials for the one person he needed to see now.

“Yoongi, I’m coming over.”

---

-From: Sunshine I’m here.

His heart skips a beat as he scrambles to lift the thick hanging Moss aside. Peering inside the dark tunnel, he catches sight of a spot of light inching closer. It was the most pleasing thing to see after having to spend hours alone on the beach. As calming as it was to be the only one there, hearing the symphony of crashing waves and crickets, he was missing his friend. Or more specifically, he was missing Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok jumps into his arms, holding on tightly to his shorter friend. With a chuckle, Yoongi relishes in the embrace. “Miss me that much huh?” he teases him.

“Yeah. I really did.”

His words echoed in Yoongi’s ears, startling him. It was the first time Hoseok had been straight out honest with him about his feelings. When it came to Hoseok, it’s always been ambiguous and every second of the day, Yoongi tries hard to decipher the little things to get a grasp of his true feelings. He admitted, all the haziness he had to endure was worth it.

“Kiss me Yoongi. Please.”

It didn’t take a lot for him to give in, he’d do anything for Hoseok. But Yoongi enjoyed being at the mercy of him. He knows that it’s a risky thing to do, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the special moment between them with the stars and the waves. So he takes his face in his hands and guides his lips nearer. Like the first time they kissed, Yoongi’s heart flutters as their lips connect. It felt like heaven to know that those soft lips belong to him and only him. He pulls them down to the sand and straddles Hoseok, kissing down his neck. Yoongi leaves wet kisses on his skin, biting and sucking without a care in the world. He didn’t care if he left bruises.

“You’re mine now,” he whispers.

---

“Sweetie, is your friend okay?”

“Uh…” Jimin blinks and laughs sheepishly. He turns to Taehyung, donning a frown and lowering his voice. “For fuck’s sake Tae, why did you drink so much?!”

They were all gathered in the spacious dining hall now, seated in their arranged seats. Jin and his family shared a table with the Jeons all the way up front, Namjoon’s family has a table near the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the pool and the Parks were supposed to share one table with Hoseok’s family. They were situated near the kitchen doors, still considered unworthy enough for the front tables according to their status. It didn’t need to be mentioned but Jimin knew well enough, he was warned by Hoseok.

But their table was currently half-empty, having lost track of where Hoseok was - Jimin had called his friend multiple times now and still, he was ungraciously met with the robotic voice. Meanwhile, Taehyung’s father was too busy showing off his arm candy to care so Jimin had brought his drunk friend over.

“I smell alcohol,” Jimin’s father piped up, sniffing the air. “Have you been drinking Park Jimin?”

Jimin wasn’t stupid enough to drink in front of his parents. And it wasn’t like he enjoyed it too much. He shakes his head and looks over at Taehyung. He had a Cheshire grin on his face and wouldn’t stop giggling. Taehyung’s legs were trying hard to wrap around Jimin while his fingers were caressing his face. Every time Jimin detaches a limb, a different one would stick on him.

“Ahh, baby, you know I’m having a boner right now?” Taehyung whispered in his ears and then chortled out loud like it was the funniest thing on earth. “I had it since my makeout session with Mr Icy Jeon at the balcony.”

“What?! Ew!” Jimin sputtered as he tried squirming out of his grasps. It was unsettling to know his friend had a hard on while his crotch was literally rubbing on his thigh.

“Where are his parents? And why is drunk? He’s only 17 my goodness. They shouldn’t be serving drinks to students over here,” Jimin’s mother rambles on.

The kitchen doors open up and a stream of waiters donned in the monochromatic white shirt and black vest uniform walked in, holding huge trays of their appetisers. Even though they were at the back, their meals were served last, waiting until the last of the waiters filed out of the kitchen.

“You know, school pressure. Grades and homework and thinks like that. And his parents are divorced so...he’s got a lot on his shoulders.” Jimin tried to reason it out with his parents though knows it wouldn’t persuade them.

His father hums in thought. “Yes, I heard that from Mr Jeon about the Academy’s slipping performance. You better not be one of ‘em Park Jimin-”

“That’s still no excuse to be absurdly drunk in a public event,” his mother chastises. But her expressions were gentle, almost as if she pitied his circumstances. Though not enough for her to empathise.

Four plates of questionable food descend on their table. They squint at the shiny white ceramic where five small colourful cubes accessorised like the Christmas tree sat neatly. It sure was queer to them but the rest of the guests seemed to be enjoying the appetisers, purring over how delicious it was. Even Taehyung had his mouth watering at the sight of the plate.

“They’re sho cyuuutteee!” he squeals as he picks one cube with his fingers.

Jimin groans, cursing at Hoseok as he dials for him for the hundredth time. He had to shove a fork into Taehyung’s hand while fighting off the leg that was still curling itself around his waist. He thanked the gods his parents were sat on the opposite end of the table.

“Jiminie?”

“Hoseok! Oh my fucking god!” he exclaimed, overly relieved that his call got through.

“Park Jimin that is no way to speak at the dinner table. You better clean up your mouth. I’ll have none of it if you use those derogatory words in my house, you understand?” His mother said, pointing her fork at him.

He mouths a thousand ‘Sorry’s before getting back to his friend on the other side of the line, this time more careful with the level of his voice. “Dude, where the hell are you?! They’ve started to serve dinner and this alcoholic moron is trying to hump me at the table. My parents are here dammit!”

“Uh...I uh..oh fuck,” Hoseok whines over the phone.

“The fuck was that?!”

“Sor..sorry. Ehem I’m yeah oh yeah shit like that ehem uh...I uh the tunnel...I..I have to go.”

The line cuts off, leaving Jimin with the echo of Hoseok, quite possibly, moaning. He sighs as pockets his phone. At least he knows where Hoseok was. Jimin suddenly feels a cold sensation on his tummy and yelps when he sees that Taehyung had lifted up his shirt and was rubbing one of the cubed food around his belly button.

“He wans to eish it dund he?” Taehyung giggled as he talked to Jimin’s belly button.

“God help me!” he grumbles as twists Taehyung’s bony wrists away. He stands up and pulls his friend with him. “Ma, Pa, I’m going to send this fool home. He’s being too much of a nuisance.”

“What?! Are you sure? Darling, isn’t it better if you drove?” his mother fretted to her husband.

“No Ma, it’s fine. You guys stay. The drive’s only a few blocks away, I’ll be fine,” Jimin assured her as he drags Taehyung out his chair as fast as he can, desperate to get out of there.

Then out of nowhere, he feels the weight lighten. Jimin looks over to his right to see Jungkook wrapping Taehyung’s arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry Mr and Mrs Park, I’ll make sure he gets back safely.”

The two boys exited the dining hall as quietly as they can. That also meant knocking down a few empty chairs and bumping into waiters with full trays of drinks on their way out. If it was with Taehyung, nothing can be quiet. The kid had his legs jellified, dragging them on the marble floor as he tries to wiggle out of their grasp.

“Thanks. For the help,” Jimin breathes as they stuffed Taehyung into his car.

He eyes the younger boy wearily. Of the six months he’s been in the school, he had only talked to Jungkook roughly five times. And out of those five times, three of them had been a one-word reply kind of conversation. Jimin knows of his reputation in school as the Icy Jeon and often wondered why the boy was like so.

“My fault. I saw him ordering another glass before dinner and didn’t stop him.”

“Jesus, he had five within an hour?”

Jungkook gives a silent nod as he closes the door to the passenger seat. “Where are we headed?”

Surprised, Jimin gave him a questioning look. “You’re coming? Is your dad okay with you leaving?”

It wasn’t a secret that Jungkook was immensely afraid of his father. Director Jeon is a very spine-chilling man with harsh features and soul-gazing eyes. It didn’t take Jimin long to figure out the spots in school to avoid in order to not get himself tangled in with the Director. So perhaps Jungkook mimics his father’s personality more than he would’ve liked.

Jungkook shrugs with a shake of his head, choosing to lean his head on the window. He had enough of his father for one night. It had been a blizzard of insinuations and silent insults thrown at him while they mingled with the guests. His father had subtle gestures visible only to Jungkook’s eyes to get the message across - that he was disappointing his father in so many ways and that he wasn’t good enough to be a Jeon. After the success of his two older brothers, nothing he did seemed good enough.

A second of silence pass before Jimin realises that he wasn’t getting anything more from him. He gnaws on his lips as he drives out of the residence, unsure of what to say to fill the silent void in the car.

---

Jin picks up his fork ever so gently, with elegance and grace, like how he was taught during etiquette class. He takes a bite out of their 3rd course, savouring every burst of flavour. His eyes closed as he tries to pick out the different ingredients they used. It was his favourite thing to do whenever he comes across a delicacy he’s never tried. He tasted hints of thyme, basil and white wine, an aromatic combination. Satisfied with the first bite, his eyes fluttered open and land on Namjoon, who was seated a few tables from him.

He was staring at him with his infamous dimpled smile, silently chuckling at himself after witnessing Jin’s sensual experience with the entree. ‘Cute’ Namjoo mouthed to his friend with a cheeky wink. He loved teasing his easily-flustered friend. And just as expected, Jin’s cheeks grew pink as he averts his gaze back the food on his plate. But instead of seeing the slices of seared scallops, he sees Namjoon’s wink on replay like a broken record.

“Jin, darling, did you have too much Champagne? You look so flushed my goodness,” his mother tuttered as she took away his flute of half-empty Champagne.

Jin clears his throat as he excuses himself. He shot out of his seat and beelined for the restroom. Ah, why was his blushing so much, he questioned himself as he stared at his reflection. It was only Namjoon wasn’t it? And that kid loved to be cheeky with him - has been since they first met. But all those times, it had been in school with their starchy ties and itchy blazers. Now, to see Namjoon in a loose fitting button up shirt and tight pants with his hair slicked to the side...something felt different. Jin gulped his trailing thoughts away, not wanting to admit that in that split second, he was attracted to Namjoon.

“Lord Jin, you’re going ahead of yourself. Get it together,” he sighs, fixing his hair and suit. He takes a deep breath and walks out, only to be face to face with the man himself. “Namjoon!” His blush was back on as his heart races.

“We’re the only ones left, as usual,” Namjoon chuckles.

“Huh?” Jin was still dazed. That split second of attraction was back as he took in the cologne Namjoon was wearing. Only now had he realised the musky scent.

The taller boy smiles. “You haven’t noticed? Hoseok has been gone long before dinner. Jungkook and Jimin left about 30 minutes ago, dragging a very drunk Taehyung behind them.”

“Ah, right..”

He had noticed Jungkook’s departure when dinner service just started, thinking the boy wanted to leave for a cigarette break or the restroom. And that was only because Jungkook had been sat at the same table. Regarding the rest of his friends...he hadn’t a clue. He wasn’t even aware Taehyung got drunk. Then again with the speed he was ordering at the bar, Jin wasn’t surprised. Nevertheless, he envied Namjoon for being so observant. No matter how hard he tried to be, he always found himself absorbed in something else instead. “Maybe it’s cuz you’re narcissistic,” Yoongi had bluntly said to him one day. It hurt his pride to be called one but perhaps his friend had a point.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” he said as soon as he realised Namjoon had been talking this whole time. There he goes again, thinking about himself while someone was talking.

“You’re adorable,” Namjoon said as he pinched Jin’s nose. Then as if it never happened, he turned around and pointed to the majestic front door. “I was suggesting if maybe we should leave too. The others have up and gone, leaving us alone again. Who knows what fun they’re having at the beach. I don’t want to miss out on that.”

Amongst their group, Jin and Namjoon were always the goody-two-shoes that never participated in their shenanigans. They’d be off doing something fun and stupid, usually initiated by either Hoseok or Taehyung, and the two of them would stubbornly stay put. It was mostly because whatever their friends were doing involved a form of an illegal act.

“How’d you know they’re at the beach?” Jin asks. To be fair, he felt excluded having not known about their little plan.

“Jungkook texted me the second they left.”

“Oh.”

Jin glances back at the dining hall. The plates were taken back to the kitchen, soon to be replaced by the 4th course. It was ricotta cheese and caramelized walnut salad, he knew that. He sees his parents with their wide smiles as they chatted with Mr and Mrs Jeon. No, he didn’t want that, he decided. He didn’t want to play the role of a pious son and sit with a straight back as he politely engages in conversations he had no interest in.

“You’re right,” Jin nodded. “But we wouldn’t want to arrive empty handed don’t you think?” He grins slyly as he motions for Namjoon to follow him towards the bar.

It was time he finally did something reckless and thrilling. And he was glad he got to share it with Namjoon.

---

-From: Jeon We’re in the tunnel... open up the entrance, will you?

Yoongi re-reads the text again and groans. Why was it that whenever he had something good, it had to be taken away instantly.

“What is it?” Hoseok yawns. He tightens his arm around Yoongi’s waist and buries his head in the crook of his neck.

“The others are coming,” Yoongi grumbled.

-To: Jeon It’s already opened...walk on in.

Yoongi tosses the phone away and gives a quick peck on Hoseok’s forehead. “C’mon baby, they’re almost here.

He pouts and whines but sits up. Their time alone on the beach had been cut so short, Hoseok wondered if all that had happened between them was their dream. They see three figures walking under the hanging moss, one of em stumbling around on the sand.

“We made a detour,” Jimin called out as he raised the two plastic bags in his hands. “Bought some Chinese food.”

At the mention of food, Hoseok’s stomach starts grumbling. He realised he hadn’t eaten since that bowl of Honey Bunches in the afternoon. “Oh, you’re a saint Park Jimin. Did you get sweet and sour chicken? Please tell me you did.”

“Got everyone’s favourite in here, don’t worry,” Jimin chuckled. They’ve eaten enough Chinese takeout in their dorm rooms for him to know it.

“I’m your favourite!” Taehyung yelled as he tackled Hoseok down to the cold sand. It was quite the scene to see two boys struggling and rolling around in the sand.

“Woah what’s this! I see hickeys! I see hickeys! Hobi has hickeys!!” The younger boy straddled Hoseok’s waist and started to stab at the litter of purple bruises that spotted his neck.

Even in the dim lights of the moon, it was obvious that Hoseok was blushing after having caught by Taehyung. “Ah, seriously your breath stinks,” he grumbles, trying to get the attention off him.

Hoseok tries to push him off his body but somehow, when Taehyung is drunk, he gets extra strong. The group of friends would joke about how it was his secret super power. It was all fun and jokes until one of them has to deal with his drunk ass. And the prestigious role of Taehyung’s official care-taker would always fall on Hoseok.

“Hickeys?” Jimin asked with raised eyebrows.

His eyes wander over to Yoongi who was silently seated. Even Jungkook was now analysing the situation, putting the pieces together. They were pretty sure Hoseok didn’t adopt the hickeys on his way over to the beach so that could only mean one thing...To Jimin, it was an eccentric occurrence for he never comes across people who were homosexual. And to witness the evidence of his two friends getting down and dirty together, he felt ambivalent about it, almost a shock. Especially after hearing the stories of Yoongi womanising all the freshman girls.

“We should eat. I’m hungry,” said Jungkook with a stoic expression. His eyes flicker over to Yoongi’s and back down to the bags.

Hoseok pushes Taehyung down and rolls to his knees. The angle at where his neck was, was perfectly lined with a ray of moonlight and Jungkook could see the obvious bruises. It made his mind wander back to the moment he had with Taehyung, how good it felt to have his lips on his neck, kissing and sucking. Fuck no, he wasn’t gay, he decided. He sighs and shakes his head, trying to disperse the thoughts.

“Yeah, we should.” Yoongi busied himself with unpacking the food, avoiding Jimin’s question.

They settled down and laid out the food, everyone starving from the long night. There was a blanket of awkwardness hanging in the air amongst them while they stuff themselves with fried rice and kung po beef. Yoongi tries hard not to be obvious with his sudden need to be skin-to-skin contact with Hoseok, Hoseok in turns tries to hide his hickeys from Jimin’s gazes, Jimin tries not to look judgemental, Jungkook tries to keep his eyes from wandering over to Taehyung’s and Taehyung is well...trying to pick up a piece of meat with his wobbly drunken hands. And the only audible sound came from the crickets serenading them.

“Well, hello there children!”

The group of friends turns to see Jin and Namjoon walking towards them, waving frantically. Grateful for the sudden interruption, they cheered and waved back.

“Ah, everyone decided to ditch the phoney dress-up party?” Yoongi sneers.

Their new guests take a seat in the lopsided circle they made. “We came bearing gifts,” Jin said with a smile as he produced two cartons of beers.

“No! No, no, no, no more alcohol!” Jimin whines as he pouts. “I’ve had enough with drunk people already.”

“Oh C'mon! We finally come to one of your illegal get-togethers and you deny our gifts?!” Namjoon frowns, teasing the smaller boy.

Yoongi snorted. “Illegal? Who said this was illegal?” When it comes to Namjoon and Jin, the word ‘illegal’ can mean handing in homework pass the due date.

But he was pleasantly surprised to see Namjoon holding up a bag of weed and wiggling it around. “This stuff’s illegal isn’t it?”

“We broke into your room and stole some.”

The two boys sat, grinning mischievously. Their plan to be reckless that night far exceeded their own expectations. They had stolen cartons of beer from Jin’s parents’ bar, broke into a dorm room, stole illegal drugs and brought it out to smoke. Definitely a milestone for the two Kims.

“Pass it on,” Yoongi demanded, wiggling his fingers out, eager to get his hands on the bag of weed. “I’ll make a blunt. For free this time.”

‘Whoops’ and ‘Hoorays’ filled the beach. When it comes to rolling a joint, Yoongi was the King. And it wasn’t easy to come by a joint that he rolled for he always demanded some sort of payment.

That night, the seven boys sat by the beach - blazers off, shirts untucked and ties thrown away - and watched the waves crashing its calming tune. They each realised that they didn’t need much to be happy. Cold Chinese takeout, bottles of beer and their friends was all it takes to put them at ease. For once they felt like they could breathe, be themselves, away from their materialistic lives.

“I love you guys,” Taehyung sighs as he giddily lies down.

My BTS Au Masterlist

*The new update will take a while because I’m going to be busy with packing up my room. I’ll be moving houses in a week or less. I’ll try to update as soon as possible.

[clevernewdimension]

Revenge Prank (Inhumans Drabble)

Word count: 2.1K

AN: So... this is for making you all wait a week. Not long, but hopefully you all like it!

Summary: Yixing forgot something important, and his two mischievous twins want him to suffer just a little bit. Sometimes, though, things don’t turn out the way it’s planned!

Zian and Nayeon Zhang were a very mischievous pair when they wanted to be, but rarely were they ever that way to their parents. It didn’t help that their mother could always tell when they were lying. They were also deter from it for the fact that they are always so nice and kind to them. They honestly felt like they had the most understanding mother and father in the world, and when they wanted to play pranks, just the thought of it made them feel bad for a very long time.

But all their uncles and aunt Neon, they loved playing tricks on them. They were both Inhumans, possessing powers which took them a bit to understand, but they got a hold of them quicker than most people. They had full control over their powers when they both were seven. Zian could create illusions. If it was simple and not super complex, he could even make it so they can be touched, though this took a toll. He he made one that can be touched, he’d often have a huge headache for days after. Because of that, this mostly just means making little spiders on the floor or making it seem like Uncle Sehun spilled wine on his carpet in Paris. Uncle Sehun was their favorite to play tricks on, simply because he whines a lot and pouts about it. He never let’s their mom and dad hear the end of it, which was a bonus.

Nayeon’s power was different. She was like a replay machine, in a sense. She’d just think of a question, make a movement with her hands and make a screen like thing to watch the past. Sometimes she can do the future, but it makes her sick and leaves her in bed for a week or more. While her power isn’t really something to trick people with, it’s her gift of a silver tongue that aids her brother’s illusions. It’s not a power, but she’s just very charming. She can talk her way into and out of anything for most people… except their mother, that is. Their father was wrapped around her finger. She was a daddy’s girl growing up and still is.

Today, for the first time, their target to their tricks is their father. It’s been seventeen years, after all, might as well finally play a prank on him. He’ll never expect it, after all. The problem is getting past their mother. So, they decided to try and get her in on it.

Nayeon’s hair was a bright purple as she twirled it around her finger, watching her mother sit on a swing they made in their backyard years back. She was older, a bit of wrinkles around her eyes, but other than that, she still looked in her twenties. Nayeon hoped to be as pretty as her when she was older. What made her grossed out was watching as her mother stitches up her own palm, sighing as the breeze went by.

“Momma,” Nayeon’s soft voice says, “If you would have waited, Dad could just fix it for you.”

Zian was sitting in the tree on a branch higher up. The two children have become somewhat reckless. They’d get hurt often since they knew their dad could just fix them. His hair was the same color as his sisters, though cut shorter. It was a bit curlier, though he had it styled and out of his face for now. His eyes have parts of it blue like their mother’s, unlike Nayeon. He lays flat against the branch, his eyes moving to his mom. “You know he’s going to insist the second he finds out!”

“Which is why he won’t,” their mother says coolly, glancing up at her son. “He’s always so tired after coming home from working, if he heals me, that would make him too tired to even stand, you all know that since you both would get hurt often.”

“So you don’t want Dad to know you’re hurt,” Xian says with a bit of a scoff. “If Dad knew we didn’t tell him when you’re hurt, he’ll be so pissed at us!”

“That doesn’t sound like it’s my problem,” Their mother says with a smirk as she ties off, using the scissors in her lap to cut off the rest of the surgical suture thread.

“It would be if we told him,” Nayeon says with a smile. “But, we won’t! If you help us prank Dad, that is!”

“So that is what you two have been whispering about for the past few days,” Y/N mutters, rolling her eyes. “Alright, i’ll bite. Why exactly do you want to prank Yixing and what are you both planning?”

Xian jumps down, moving to sit down in front of his mother so she wouldn’t have had to strain her neck to look up at him. He has this badass, ‘I don’t give a fuck’ look to him, but he was a total sweetheart just like his father. “We’re upset because he forgot something. Something very important!”

Y/N nods, “Alright. I take it you’re talking about our wedding anniversary?” Nayeon gets up from the back porch, moving so she sat next to her brother, who was half a foot taller than her. “Yes! We are! It’s your 20th wedding anniversary, Mom!”

“According to Uncle Baekhyun-”

“Oh dear lord,” Y/N mutters, rolling her eyes again but with a small smirk on her face at the mention of Baekhyun.

“There’s a thing where a husband is suppose to give his wife something different depending on the year!” Zian says, finishing his sisters sentence.

“I don’t care about gifts,” Y/N mutters, looking down at the two in front of her. “Well, unless it’s a night to ourselves to have some wild-”

“Mom,” The two twins yell, covering their ears and leaning away.

Y/N laughs, smiling at the two. “Listen, I’m not upset that he forgot, but if it bugs you both that badly, I’ll… turn a blind eye to your prank.”

“Good,” Nayeon says, smiling, “Because twenty years is a huge deal! He should have gotten you whatever you wanted!”

“I wanted nothing, as I’ve said,” Y/N explains, standing before offering a hand to each of her children to help them stand.

Xian nods, “We just love you, Mom. We say the card you got him and how you had his piano fixed for your anniversary. We think it’s only fair.”

Y/N, who was definitely the smallest in the family, brings the two towards her, giving them both a hug. “It does warm my heart that you both care about me that much that you’re willing to prank your father, though.” Y/N leans up, giving them both a kiss on the cheek, Xian having to lean down farther than his sister. “Yixing will be home in ten minutes, wash your hands and get ready for dinner and I’ll forget you’re going to prank him soon. Just not tonight, please?”

They nod, and tell her in Korean ‘Yes mother’.

The next few days were going to be pure planning. ~

A few days later, Xian and Nayeon decided they’ll make it seems like their father’s piano was broken. The legs all fell off, everything about it was awful, and it was no longer useable. Granted, that was the illusion. They hid near by, watching and waiting for the moment their father got back from the local market.

Yixing opened the door to their house, quickly walking in. He, like his wife, had a few wrinkles around his eyes, but still looked great. He was in jeans and a tee, quickly walking past the stairs where they hid. They smirked, waiting for the moment for the big yelling of shock, only to be met with silence as he walks right past it and into the kitchen. He passes by Y/N, quickly setting the bag down and wrapping his arms around her.

“Hello Beautiful,” He says, smiling as he gives her a quick kiss. His arms around her and smiling at her lovingly. Even if they were trying to trick their father, they did always love seeing just how much they cared for one another. Some of their friends have parents who are only together because their families look down on divorce. They fight and look at one another with such hate. Yixing and Y/N was the complete opposite.

Nayeon looks over at Zian, who gave her a look of shock. This has never happened. He couldn’t have not seen it, since you have to literally look to it to get to their kitchen! For the rest of the day, they stayed there, waiting for their father to take notice of even say something and he never did. Y/N walked up the stairs, ruffling their hair as she passed.

"What is going on," Xian says, huffing a bit as he crossed his arms. He was tried from holding the illusion up all day, making him a bit cranky.

Nayeon pouts, her arms hugging her legs as she watched her father and mother preparing dinner together. "I don't know. He's had to have seen it! Unless Mom told him..."

"Do you really think she would have," Xian asks, looking over at the two adults, watching as their father finally finds out about the stitches in his wife's palm.

"Absolutely," Nayeon says, pouting. "I knew Mom would tell him! She has such a soft spot for him!

A few minutes later, they were called down. Yixing smiles, remarking how he hasn't seen the both all day and how much he missed his two little otters. The old nickname bringing a small smile to their faces before they try to remain unaffected. Finally in the middle of dinner, when they had a nice cooked meal, did the two finally snap from the tension. Once they said it and told him what was going on, Yixing just laughed.

“It was so hard not to react to it all day,” He says, wiping a tear from his eye as he continued to laugh.

“What… how? Why,” Nayeon asks, words failing her for one of the few times they ever did.

Y/N just looks at her, giving them a wink before looking back at Yixing. She takes his hand, smiling at him before looking back at the two teens. “He didn’t forget our anniversary. What I asked him about, we had to discuss at length.”

Yixing nods, “It’s been a week of us talking about it, and so we’ve finally come to an agreement.”

Zian nods, moving for them to keep going as his sister leans into him, pouting a bit in curiousity.

“We want you to know what happened,” Yixing says, looking down at his hand that held Y/N’s. “All those years ago. Every Time you’d ask, we wouldn’t say anything because we were both scared of how you’ll think of us.”

“So we wanted to wait until you both were old enough,” Y/N explains, leaning her head onto Yixing’s shoulder. “So, that’s what I asked for as a 20th anniversary gift. I wanted to tell you both.”

The two chatterbox twins were silent, looking at the two across from them. They were both pillars of strength and honesty in their lives, but now they both seemed nervous. The twins have gotten bits of information here and there from passing conversations with their uncles, but they never heard a lot. All that they know is that they were in Korea during the Execution Era, a lot of bad things happen, and that sometimes their mother still wakes up with nightmares from something that happened.

The two in front of them looked uneasy and nervous. Not like they are ashamed of what it was that happened, but sad that it was necessary. Y/N looks at Nayeon, a few tears in her eyes, “So, tomorrow, when your Father and I are out for the day… we want you to use your power and see what happened.”

“We… we can’t tell you,” Yixing says, gulping seriously, “I… we don’t want to see the look on your face when you see it all the first time. After, when we get back home, we’ll talk about it.”

Xian looked over at his sister, thankful that he could see that she, too, was worried. “We don’t have to-”

“Yes. You do,” Y/N commands, “We… it’s killing me to keep it from you both. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Alright,” Nayeon says, nodding. “If… if that’s what you wanted, then we’ll do it. But nothing will change our opinions of you. We love you, you're both the best parents anyone could have ever hoped for! You’ve been so good to us, better than we deserve most of the time!”

“That’s the damn truth,” Xian mutters, making Yixing laugh.

Y/N nods, “Just… know that everything we did… it was for freedom and for each other… and I guess your rotten uncles too.”

“They’re not all rotten,” Yixing says with a smile. “Junmyeon isn’t rotten. Neither is Kyungsoo or Minseok!”

“That’s three out of nine,” Y/N says, wiping away the tears that gathered in her eyes, “Those are not good odds at all!”

Xian smiles, looking at his parents as they continue on with their meal. His sister bumped her shoulder into his, smiling as she nods. Tomorrow they find out everything. They find out how and why their parents fell in love and what drew all of their uncles together.

But for now, they were enjoying watching their father freak out over the fact that he’d just learned about Y/N cut palm. They laugh, watching him look at her with worry and love as she just shrugs off the worry, claiming about how she was fine.

Nayeon and Xian knew that they would be fine after seeing the truth. Because that was who they were. This is who they are now, and they wouldn’t trade their parents for anything.

[kujo1597]

Recovery

Your child leaving the nest is a wonderful and slightly scary experience. A parent feels a lot of pride watching their little one find a home of their own. And the scariness of it comes from not being able to keep as close a watch over your child. Them moving to another country makes it so much harder to keep an eye on them in case something does go wrong.

Sometimes weekly phone calls just aren’t enough.

(A/N: This is chronologically the first part of my fanfic series, “Maybe That Wasn’t Such a Bad Thing” which eventually leads into my currently ongoing Amedot fanfic “Actually, That Was a Good Thing.” I really wanted to do something involving Peridot and her dad.)

Chapter 1

Angel got a phone call he never never wanted to get.

It was about how his daughter was in the hospital after her home burned down.

Problem is, he’s in Calgary and Peridot is in Beach City, a whole country away.

Literally, Beach City’s about as far south as the US gets.

He was also so busy at work and needed to convince his boss to give him time off.

Thankfully (depending on your perspective) this did qualify as a family emergency so he got the time off he needed.

The plane ride was awful. They always were but adding the stress of your only child being in the hospital made it even worse.

Angel walked down the hallway of the burn ward.

“Oh stars,” ran through his mind. This was looking really bad.

He saw a middle-aged Indian doctor stepping out out Peridot’s room.

“Hello,” he greeted her with a slight bow of his head. “I’m Angel Hōseki.”

“I’m Doctor Maheswaran,” she offered her hand and Angel shook it. “You must be Peridot’s father.”

“Yes,” his curiosity took over. “How bad is it?”

“Over a third of her body required skin grafts. The majority on her back and a fair number on her face,” Dr. Maheswaran was obviously experienced.

Angel’s throat tightened at the mention of Peridot’s facial burns. The idea of something happening to his little girl’s sunny face was awful to him. 

He sighed. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Depending on how long your visit is a nurse may come in to clean some of Peridot’s wounds,” Dr. Maheswaran noticed that Angel was ill-at-ease. “From one parent to another. This is a situation I wouldn’t want to be in either. But your daughter has taken well to her treatment. I assure you that she will make a full recovery.”

After Dr. Maheswaran went over the care Angel needs to give Peridot they said “goodbye” then he entered the room.

The first thing he noticed was just how tiny Peridot looked in that hospital bed. It was a sight that he’d never wanted to see again, not since divorcing Peridot’s mother.

It was hard, but he looked at Peridot. Her short blonde hair, or at least what was left of it was messy. Parts on the top were sticking up in a way that reminded Angel of when she first started trying out crazy new styles. He found it amusing that she apparently was still doing that.

But the amusement didn’t last when he saw the burns on the left side of her head; they were mostly on her cheek and temple but some went well past her hairline and also were on her forehead. The doctors had to shave off a bit of her hair in order to treat the burns.

Her upper left arm was bandaged and through some of the gaps in her hospital gown he saw even more wrappings. When Peridot turned her head in an attempt at sleeping he got a better look at the burns on her neck..

Angel walked over and sat on a chair near the wall.

Peridot opened her eyes, somehow the shining silver was instead a dull grey.

“Hey dad.”

“Hi sweetie,” Angel greeted her back.

He tried to subtly look at her some more, at the grafts on her forehead, the bandages on her lower right arm, and how her hands were completely wrapped up.

The room was quiet. Peridot was exhausted and Angel didn’t know what to say.

What do you say?

“I wish the circumstances were better but it’s nice to see you,” Peridot broke the silence.

“Yeah,” Angel sighed. “So how are you? You know, considering.”

“I’m doing better. Tired. I can’t sleep. Too sore and itchy.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better at least.”

Peridot nodded, she wasn’t kidding about being tired.

“So when do you get out of the hospital?”

“I think in a week,” Peridot tried to rub her eye but her bandages got in the way. “It depends on how well I heal. But I don’t know where I’ll go.”

“I managed to get a few weeks off of work. You can stay in the hotel with me.”

“Thank you.”

Things got quiet again.

“So, any interesting shows or games lately?” Angel asked, a topic that usually got Peridot enthusiastic.

The shine returned to Peridot’s eyes. “Why yes!” She winced as she smiled too widely. “Tales of Xillia 2 came out and it’s great.” She frowned. “Well, a bit too real now since the main character is drowning in debt due to medical bills. But before this incident I was having a blast. The combat system is really fun.”

Peridot enthusiastically talked about her new game with Angel listening intently. In that moment he almost forgot about where they were and why. Peridot’s bright eyes and smile were unchanged. Apart from the missing tooth. Peridot mentioned getting punched by a clubmate...

A nurse entered the room interrupting them.

“Peridot,” her voice was sweet, “it’s time to clean your face and neck.”

“Aw, already?” Peridot whined.

“Yes dear, you can continue talking afterwards,” the nurse glanced at Angel. “Would it be okay if your dad watched? He needs to know how to do this.”

“That’ll be fine.”

The nurse carefully washed Peridot’s face, neck, and a small part of her chest as Angel watched; she gave him instructions along the way. Occasionally Peridot would flinch from the pain.

“All done,” the nurse announced. “You did very well this time.” She smiled kindly.

Peridot tried to smile back but her cheek was too tender.

 After saying their goodbyes the nurse left to tend to other patients.

“So you were telling me about how your favourite show is on Blueray now,” Angel tried to resume the conversation.

But Peridot didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry dad,” she said with a sigh.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“I should have gotten a home inspection.”

“Home inspections can’t find everything. The issue would’ve gone unnoticed. That being said, yes, you should have. But that’s just because it’s always a good idea.”

There was a twinge of guilt in Angel’s heart when he saw Peridot’s downtrodden face.

“Peridot, nothing you could have done would’ve prevented this. Just be glad that you’re safe and sound.”

She teared up and Angel gently hugged her. He wanted so dearly to rub her back as she cried into his shoulder. Instead he stroked the back of her head.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. That’s what’s important.”

Peridot nodded.

Yes, that is what’s important.

[grieg]

The Artist, The Pessimist, And The Peach.

(it’s gay, read for the gay)

Mo really hadn’t been listening. She was tired of Hamilton. So, so tired “No, see, cause if Burr -” “Ok, Charlie, as much as I respect your views and your music taste, I couldn’t give an actual living shit about Hamilton, I just really don’t care that much.” Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in mock aggravation. “Well, if you can’t try to understand me,” She turned away from her friend and dramatically covered her eyes with the back of her hand. I'll have to elope with my giant Hamilton book, leaving my family to drown in their miserable Hamilton-less lives .” “Fine by me, just tell your dad I’m not paying for a divorce.” Mo aimed her voice louder to the back of the school bus at Tim, the resident ‘father’. “Um, sweaty, check your privileges. You’re not the one who’s having to debt his way through high school. I can’t fucking pay for a Friends boxed set, let alone a lawyer,” called the response. Charlie broke into giggles at that and Mo joined her shortly. “Ugh, why can’t you just try to like it,” Charlie pouted and ran her hand through her short blonde hair. “Charl, I’ve tried so many times. Like, you won’t let me spend a second not trying.” Mo turned to face the window, watching the buckets of rain speed down the glass. “Alrighty then,” Charlie rolled her eyes “just trying to save your Hamilton deprived, fall out boy infested soul."  and Mo flipped her off and grinned. "I’m next stop, anything you want to tell me before I depart?” Charlie stood as the bus approached her street. “Only that I despise you, I hope you get really wet in the rain and get the plague and die, and I inherit all your snapbacks,” Mo replied. Charlie jostled her way to the doors and jumped off the bus before the stairs had even began to lower. “Love you too mom! Also you can’t get plague from hypothermia!” She heard the shout before the doors closed and the bus shuddered back into motion. Tim staggered up to the now emptied seat next to her and plopped himself down, arm snaking around her shoulders. “How are you Mojoba my moba joba?” Mo gently lifted his arm over her head and placed it back in his lap. “You know me, terrific as usual. Also please don’t call me that ” “Hah. Yes, of course you are,” He batted back her sarcasm. “How are you Timothy Pearl? How is your day going? What did you do to survive today?” “Oh I’m just gay thank you. I’ve had two power bars, a can of Harvey’s extra spicy root beer, an orange, and three five-foot-long fruit roll ups so I’ve had a fabulous dining experience to boost my spirits.” “Ok, chill.” Mo turned back to stare at the rain again and a comfortable silence settled between them. The bus bumped along mid pace and a quiet trickle of conversation flowed around them from the few passengers left. “You shouldn’t be so hard on her all the time you know.” She jumped slightly at the sudden start of conversation and could feel him looking at her but she didn’t turn. “It’s easy. I hate her.” She shrugged. “No you don’t.” Tim pat her leg affectionately and Mo felt him trying to accentuate the feeling in the statement. “Yes, obviously I don’t. Why the hell would I hang out with her if I did?” “I don’t know, Mo, maybe cause she’s literally your only friend besides the freak sitting next to you. Or maybe cause she just so happens to be the hottest girl in school and simultaneously the biggest lesbian known to mankind. Maybe because you, my darling, have a whopping crush on her?” “No, stop it Tim- she’s my best friend, give me a break.” “Fine, fine, Just don’t come running to me when you suddenly realize I’m always right about everything.” Mo wrinkled her nose and flipped him off, going back to stare out the window. … It hadn’t even been two months and Mo and Charlie were probably the closest friends in school. Freshman year, neither of the girls had been very socially active, spending most of their time stressing and working. Now that they had fallen into the groove of high school and vaguely knew what the hell they were doing, they had both had the opportunity to actually speak to those around them. Tim had known Charlie vaguely from history and Mo from English, but none of them had been especially close. Coincidently, all their lockers were in the same hall and one day after class on the fifth day, Tim had plucked up the courage to approach the both of them and ask whether they wanted to go long-boarding with him on the weekend. After some hesitation, they both answered yes. Now, six months and near hundreds of trips to the skate park later, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Turning right and walking down the six blocks to the skate park after school was now as much of a habit for the three of them as hitting shuffle on the complete Panic! At The Disco Album was to Mo.

…

“Mo, would you be a dear and tell me how this looks?” Mo felt Charlie tap her shoulder and she stepped over to Charlie’s canvas, examining the historic scene taking place on its surface. Mo squinted and stepped back, striking a pose of exaggerated consideration. “well, I mean, like Shit.” She stepped back to her canvas. “Ugh, I need a real answer, please be serious with me here.” Charlie slouched. “Fine. It’s really good and I hate how good it is and it hurts. Satisfied?” Mo said quietly, focusing on painting. Charlie grinned at her devilishly and walked over to Mo’s canvas, watching her movements intently from behind her back. Mo suddenly became very aware how close they were standing and stepped forward, increasing the distance. (Physical contact was something she found should be avoided at most costs) But Charlie stepped forward again and took the brush out of her hand. “No, no. Try it, um…here. Can I?” Mo nodded and stepped away. Charlie mixed some fresh paint and the began deftly working her way over the area that Mo had been painting, moulding what had been messy blobs into somewhat recognizable forms.

There was sample photograph of the Waterloo battle painting they were copying in corner of the room, and the students were circled around it, all struggling to paint the tiny detailed forms of soldiers. Except Charlie. Her’s was the best. Obviously. Mo thought that maybe somehow she had lied about her age and was actually a thirty-year old successful artist who had studied in some famous art school in Tuscany.

“Better?” Charlie asked. “Um, maybe just paint this bit for me real quick? Also this bit right here and this one also the whole thing?” Mo gesticulated at the canvas, trying to display her despair to receive some form of pity from her friend. “Charlie, stop doing Mo’s painting for her please,” the teacher called from her desk at the front. “Yes ma'am. Ok, look at the light source, try and focus on where the reflections are-” Mo lost track of what Charlie was trying to say and instead began watching her hands as they flapped about, weaving around in her wild way. She seemed to be doing that an awful lot lately, watching Charlie’s hands. It was hard not to. She seemed to communicate more from her hands then she did her mouth. Her physical displays of enthusiasm were contagious and every once and awhile Mo would catch herself moving her hands in an unmistakably Charlie kind of way. She still couldn’t decide if it was a good or a bad thing and was very conscious about not doing it around Charlie. 

“See? Wait, Mo are you even listening?” Mo felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and was shaken out of her daydreaming. “Yeah, Yeah. Remember light source, keep shadow balance even. Got it.” Mo took back her paintbrush. “Okay…” Charlie have her a dubious look but went back to her canvas.

…

Mo had never considered herself an optimist. if anything she was the world’s most enthusiastically pessimistic pessimist. She hated watching people achieve their dreams because, as she constantly told her friends, she had none. She told them she would probably continue working in the record store two blocks from her house until her mid fifties when she would retire early to sell beaded curtains on Etsy to vegans in Utah with five kids a dog and a dark green Subaru. She would never marry because she would never feel the capacity for love. And anyways, her partner would probably amount to much more than she could ever be and she didn’t feel like coming home to someone who would talk about how much they had achieved in a day while she endlessly threaded endless amounts of wooden beads on endlessly long flimsy wires. She had never heard of the term realist until Tim had explained the concept and told her he labeled himself as one. He cared and examined every detail of life and although Mo did not like to admit it, she enjoyed listening to him talk about situations and things and people. But she still hated the beach and romcoms and music that wasn’t rock or punk or R&B. She didn’t like expressing her feelings no matter if they were expressed physically or verbally. She was, in short, the pessimist.

Charlie, one could say, was the optimist

…

How Charlie and Tim had thought that studying in the park on a hot Saturday during a festival was a good idea, Mo had no idea. Then again, she had agreed to do it and here they were.

“DUDE, That man literally looks like a pineapple!” Charlie was pointing and giggling hysterically at a man far across from them in the park with bright green spiky hair and a pale yellow suit. “Well, I’m not one to judge but he really does.” Tim tilted his head in mock sympathy. “Also, what is that couple doing? Are those grapes on their head?” He pointed over at another two people across the park with very curly purple hair. He and Charlie were both sprawled on their backs, Mo’s legs acting as a pillow for both their heads. “Guys, we’ve been here almost an hour and all we’ve done is comment on the fruit-like aspects of these people’s clothes. Also Tim, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you’re literally wearing a giant strawberry sweater.” Mo cast a down judgmental stare. “Sad, but so, so true.” Tim stood and brushed himself off, ruffling Charlie’s hair and then slinging his rucksack over his shoulder. “You know, I think I’m gonna head home. If you need me I’ll be bathing in a pile of unfinished homework, popcorn and the light from the television of a Friends season three rerun.” Tim gave them a wave and jumped into a skip towards the exit to the park. “Bye, you egg!” Charlie called. “Bye, Tim. Don’t forget the Native American project is due Tuesday.”

“SHIT.” a distant call came from somewhere outside the park

Mo sighed and shut the textbook in front of her hopelessly. “Did you know he gave fifty dollars to Micheal McKinnon last year to do all of his projects?” “Explains a lot. Are you sure it was just for school projects?” She continued packing up her stuff. “MO! Jesus Christ.” Charlie sat up and frowned at her and Mo laughed maniacally.

“You’re really mean sometimes, you know that?” Charlie stood and began to pack as well. “Well, no one else is going to be. You and Tim are like walking Tumblr positivity blogs. sometimes I feel like I’m the only one with sense around here.” Mo picked up her bag and placed her longboard under her arm, turning around to head towards the exit. About to call back a goodbye, she was immediately arrested by a soft hand on her wrist. She turned to see Charlie stood just behind her looking at her with a mournful expression that made Mo’s heart skipped a beat. She may have been imagining it but she swore she saw the glassy sheen of tears over Charlie’s eyes. “Are you…do you, care? About us? Your friends? Do we…mean anything to you?” Charlie’s voice cracked slightly and Mo stood in shock by the sudden scene playing before her. “I… Charlie what are you doing, what’s wrong with you? ” “Mo, just answer the goddamn question.” Mo stepped back a bit “I, Yeah. You’re my friends. What do you want me to say Charlie? Yes. I do in fact have a capability to hold emotions. I do feel things.” “Well you never goddamn show it, Mo. I just…I can’t help but think you hang out with me and Tim out of necessity or, I don’t know, pity or some shit. I…just needed to get some kind of emotion out of you for once…something. I’m sorry.” She sighed shakily and dropped her hand to her waist, the soft warmth and comfort of her palm leaving a cold imprint in the shape of her hand on Mo’s arm. “I wish you showed us sometimes, you know? You do things for us, like invite us over and let us eat your food and copy your homework, but you never let us know what you’re thinking or what what you’re thinking about us. I’ve never felt anything but distance from you Maura. And I hate it. I hate never knowing if you’re okay. If we’re…okay.” Charlie stood there in silence for a what seemed like ten minutes but was probably a couple milliseconds, while Mo tried desperately tried to think of what to say, mind bouncing back and forth; up and down like a ping-pong ball hurled 80 miles an hour into the wall of a very small box. How do you respond to these situations? What do people ever want to hear? What can she possibly say to convince the beautiful girl standing inches away from her, tears pouring silently and willingly down her freckled cheeks, who just used her real first name (which Mo despised anyone using) and would probably be the only best friend she would ever have, that she had total and utter admiration and respect for her and was head over goddamn heels in love with her? What do you fucking say?

Well, for starters, she could just not say anything. Just leap into the sickening, swirling pool of utmost dread and fear and no-fucking-clue and lost friendships and soiled memories and-

 Fuck it.

Mo dove. Hard. Her lips crashed fast and dead straight onto Charlies’, forcing Charlie to stagger back to avoid tripping and maybe breaking a few bones in the process. Mo grabbed Charlie’s shoulders and kissed her as if she had come to school to hear that they were taking the entire next semester dissecting the musical Hamilton, and her life would come to a grinding and shuddering stop. She kissed her as if Tim had told them that he had bought every single boxed set of Friends manufactured on earth and chained them to the couch to sequentially watch every single episode in every single boxed set until they died. Mo McCloud kissed Charlie Goodman as if every single second, every moment, every single memory that the two friends had shared, were the only things that had ever and would ever matter to Mo. Like she wanted to spend the rest of her life in her arms, listening to her voice, watching her hands, holding her face. Kissing her. As she kissed her and mused so deeply, she slowly became conscious that Charlie was kissing her back. It took Mo a moment to really remember that kissing way a two way street, and the other street was a raging block party.

it was gay. they were both thrilled. they got married n it was also gay. they got 3 dogs, all 10/10 good boys, and named them all tim, after their good friend who had died in the war of 2025. they bought a cabin by a lake and went fishing every other day. mo made fish pies that charlie ate out of pity and politeness. mo thought she would never have the capacity for love, what fool. most of the pies went to tim tim and tim. after many years of quiet, peaceful domesticity, charlie got mystery cancer. mo was shattered. after 4 years of fighting the mystery cancer, it spread to charlies lungs and killed her. she was buried next to the cabin, and was buried with one of the tims, who died of grief. mo wept at her grave every morning, and left a fish pie there every sunday. quite a few years later, mo died peacefully in her sleep, with the remaining tims by her side. she was buried next to charlie. the tims were taken in by a nice couple down the road. while their heirs searched their home, they found love letters from the two of them, sent while charlie was a medic in the war. they cried at their sincere adoration of each other, and the horrible pain mo must have felt during her final years without the love of her life. they placed violets on their graves. even in death, they were gay and together.

[thevampirecat]

Why do you like Norma? She's a horrible person and a horrible mother.

Okay nonny, grab a cup of coffee and sit down. I’ll wait.

Ready? Good.

Firstly I would contest your assertion that she is a “horrible person and a horrible mother” based on the fact that Norma is nowhere near that simplistic and I think it’s unfair to to see her in such black and white terms and does a huge disservice to her character.

Norma is complex and multi-layered. She’s made some terrible decisions, she’s done some terrible things, she fucks up royally a lot of the time. And yet, I think to understand her you have to look a lot further than simply her actions and actually look at her past, understand how her brain works. 

Now I’m not saying that my word on this is the final one, I’m not saying there are no other interpretations to her character, I’m not saying ANY of these things. But, and here’s a doozy, I have a mother who could be considered Norma Bates lite. In fact one of the reasons I am so impressed with the show is because Norma feels very real to me, because I have seen this first hand. And no, my mother didn’t have abusive parents and brothers, but she did have this dream of being a 1950s housewife which was never realised. She did have one child whose existence reminded her of a painful time and another who she dotes on to the point of ridiculousness. She did have a string of bad relationships which she tried to cling to despite them being unhealthy (mainly because her ego couldn’t handle another failure).

So lets have a look at Norma’s past because that is the only way you understand where she is now.

She’s born into a nightmare family. Caleb himself said that their father was the most violent man he ever knew. The two children used to hide while their father beat their mother. This was their example of how the world worked and how adults interacted with each other. She (and Caleb) lived in a constant state of fear and had only each other. 

Think about that for a second. A powerless little girl growing up in a home rife with abuse and suffering and having no one to turn to in all this, except her brother. And then look at what her brother does.

Now, we can sit here and debate Caleb for a long time. I personally feel his story is tragic too but that does not excuse what he did to Norma. Also notice how Norma herself has ambiguous feelings towards this and immense guilt over the fact that she believes herself complicit in her own rapes. So now we have Norma with an abusive father and an abusive brother AND now she’s pregnant.

So what does she do? She marries literally the first man she can find who will have her and passes off the baby as his. So she’s now away from her father and brother and has a husband. Things are looking up right?

No, not really, because Norma is still young and has basically had her childhood stolen and all she has seen are bad examples of how people treat each other. Also, she has a child that, regardless of how much she does or doesn’t love him, is a living walking example of her abuse and her stolen childhood. Is it Dylan’s fault? Of course it isn’t. But that’s not really the point. She’s still a young mother with no family support and no actual skills raising her rapist’s baby. I don’t know about you, but to me that’s tragic.

So Norma fucks up and sleeps with Sam Bates. She divorces John marries Sam and has Norman. 

Now there are a few interesting things going on here. Firstly, Dylan has to be integrated into a step-family. Not an easy thing at the best of times. Secondly, Norma now has a child that is not related to her past or her family. He essentially doesn’t come with that baggage and every time she looks at him she doesn’t have to remember how he came into existence - she’s settled now, she gets to be a mom. Thirdly, she’s also now married to a man who she’s hoping will treat her right.

But she can’t have this because every man that seems to come within a 10 mile radius of Norma Louise seems to think she’s a punching bag. And Sam is an abusive dick. So now she’s had an abusive father, an abusive brother and an abusive husband. Do you have ANY idea what that kind of a life can do to someone? Do you have any idea what it’s like when you believe that all you are good for is a focus for someone else’s rage? When you start believing that this is “just the way things are”?

And in all this Norma has Norman. Her child, her boy. She throws everything she has into him. He becomes her world and she his. Is this healthy? No, dear God, of course it isn’t healthy. But can you see how she gets there? Doesn’t the progression seems obvious?

Then Norman kills Sam. In Norma’s mind, even though she knows Norman has blackouts and mental problems, he was protecting her. She’s not going to turn him in for that, especially as he is her whole world. So they move to White Pine Bay for a new start. 

What is one of the first things that happens to her when she gets there? She is raped. Because men think Norma Louise who just wants a quiet life is their personal punching bag. Then she finds a boyfriend who turns out to be a human trafficker who tries to kill her. All these things just reinforce for her that people suck and that the only man who is good in the whole world is Norman. And he’s hers and OMG she needs to hang onto him.

So when she seems him spying on women and doing bad things she simply can’t let herself believe that he too could be bad. He’s been the one good thing in her life, the one thing that has made her keep on keeping on. So she creates this fantasy world where she buries her head in the sand about him or puts his creepy behaviour down to teenage shenanigans. The fact is Norma knows in her heart that Norman needs help and what he is doing is not right, but she might not know quite HOW wrong it is because her frame of reference is so skewed and also because she has created this reality for herself where Norman is the only good thing in her life and if she loses that she needs to accept some hard truths about herself and also accept that the reason she has had literally for living is a lie. This is why she fights people like Dylan and Romero so hard - because they threaten to shatter her fantasy. They tell her what she already knows but if she accepts it, her entire world falls apart. It’s hard enough accepting that her golden boy is not perfect, it’s almost impossible to accept the level of mental problems he has. It’s also impossible for her to accept that the only thing she feels she did right is in fact a “failure” as you know Norma would blame herself for Norman’s mental issues, which may not be altogether wrong but is not the extent of it.

One thing I think people miss is that Norma yearns to be the kind of wife that looks after the kids and cleans the house, makes curtains and dishes up a delicious hot meal every night for a doting husband. coughRomerocough. This kind of simple life where she’s looked after and isn’t hurt shouldn’t be much to ask but somehow for her it is. 

So after all this, do I think Norma Bates is a bad person? No. Do I think Norma Bates has made horrible mistakes? Yes. Do I think Norma’s treatment of Dylan is justified? No. Do I think she is a bad mother? I think that question is far too black and white for a character like Norma. Do I understand her motivations? Yes. Do I think that excuses the things she has done? No.

This is the thing about characters like Norma. She is not one-dimensional. She can be both wrong and horrible AND sympathetic. She can make bad decisions and bad mistakes and I can want to shake her but I can’t look at her outside the context of what people have done to her. Yes, her life decisions have all led her to this terrible point but so many of those decisions have not been her own. So many of those decisions have been made based on fear and lies and her own perception of her worth.

One of the most tragic moments for me in the show was when she asks Alex to marry her for the medical insurance and adds “I’ll sleep with you if you want” and then doesn’t seem to get why he turns her down and why that actually hurts him. That right there should tell you how Norma sees the world. Basically as a bunch of people just taking things from her over and over again and leaving her with nothing except this child who she has devoted her whole life to.

Once again, is it healthy? Fuck no. It’s completely toxic and she desperately needed help - they all did. Is it understandable? Does it make sense? Yes.

Is it tragic? Completely.

[corvwase]

Help for a Sociopath

I sit here in the comfort of a California home, drunk to the point of having to correct grammar yet sentient enough to find the keys. I write as a self-deprecating addict of hatred and remorse, perhaps even self-absorbed, enough that I see it in myself. Wise words my father once spoke to me: knowing is half the battle.

I will come clean, my friends. No matter what emotion may register for normal individuals, such as sorrow or empathy, it always translates to anger. I saw my dying uncle today. This man is the perfect man. Quiet and cool, experienced in life and kind. Accommodating, yet straightforward and pointed. He is what I want to be. He is nearing death's call, and he knows it. Cancer of the lung, liver disease, and muscle dystrophy. Yet he remains dignified, aware. One of the smartest, most intelligent men alive.

I sit four feet away from him, watching him speak quietly and slowly to my father, smiling and laughing occasionally at the television mounted on the terracota wall. He's at peace, always in tremendous pain and agony but alive. His beautiful wife Linda, a strong woman with nothing but love and compassion emanating from her, sits beside him; she often strokes his hair lovingly and gazes at him as he reminisces with my father.

And yet, I want to weep. I want to express the emotions boiling inside me. The blood in my veins carries sorrow and empathy, a sadness only conveyed by expression of words.

I cannot. I am a broken man, my ex-fiance once told me. Her parting words to me were, "You are broken. You are fractured and broken." She was so right. I cannot feel what I know I should feel, what I want to feel.

The words are literally pouring through me. I don't even need to look at my keyboard, and I'm flat wasted. They just keep coming. Perhaps my way of conveying emotion is through writing.

Here is what disturbs me, my dear readers. What disturbs me, and I told my father this not ten minutes ago, is that no matter the emotion that would normally register for regular people, it translates to anger for me. Hatred, bitter hatred.

I saw my father's dear brother. I should feel sorrow, empathy for a dying man, a good, strong man. He used to be a bodybuilding masterpiece of human design. The fit guy that everyone wanted to drink with. But he's a tiny, waning fragment of who he used to be. He's over 100 lbs lighter than he was three months ago. His legs are swollen with pain, his arms thinner than anything, and his cheekbones, once high and proud, are hollow with the signs of sickness and depravation. I want to cry. I want rolling, hot tears to stream down my cheeks. I want to hold him and wish he was well, back to his Marine self. Instead I shake with anger. But not just anger. Hatred. Pure, white-hot hatred. For no reason.

Fucking WHY? WHY? Why do I feel this? My roommate is going through divorce and I first hand experience the effects it has on his lovely children and all I feel is anger. My friends are in need, bitterness and anger.

What the actual fucking FUCK?!?

Help me, my friends. I implore you, do you understand me? My own father can't understand what it is. No one does. I'm drunk, as always. I cope with alcohol. I remain clean from my cocaine addiction, but I slip sometimes. I have issues I won't write about. How do I fix this, if even possible? Only help if you know the answers. I don't want your just-believe-in-yourself bullshit.

Fuck you if that's what you have.

Just help.

Real help, my readers.

Thank you,

Jesse Day

Sacramento, California