#scout's fanfare

[aurelion-solar]

Vote for which theme you want for a new item, coming January 2024. It will be a supportive tank item for champions like Leona, Nautilus, Alistar, or any melee support looking for a little extra movement speed and survivability.

Scout’s Fanfare (Bandle City)

Eerie Invitation (Shadow Isles)

Trailblazer (Nazumah, Shurima)

You can vote by going to the "Overview" tab in the client and clicking the link in the bottom right.

[reality-detective]

Written by - Lori Borgman in 1998 👇

"Obituary for Common Sense"

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved friend: Common Sense. He lived a long life but died from a broken heart (technically: cardiac arrest). No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He selflessly devoted his life to service in homes, schools, businesses — and yes, even in the government — helping folks have rewarding lives, and getting jobs done while minimizing fanfare and foolishness.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valued lessons as to know when to come in from the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, that life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple and sound financial policies: Don't spend more than you earn, Waste not want not, A penny saved is a penny earned, and so forth.

Mr. Sense was a tireless advocate for what used to be (in the old days) sage advice, like: Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it, Two wrongs don’t make a right, and Actions speak louder than words.

He was also big on promoting effective parenting strategies like: the adults are in charge (not the kids), and the three R’s (Responsibility, Respect, and Resourcefulness) are the most important lessons to be taught children.

In his day Little League actually had tryouts, and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that! Some students weren't as smart as others, so they received poor grades. Horrors! And the idea of a parent bailing him out if he broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

Common Sense survived such cultural and educational trends as body piercing, new math and instant messaging. For decades, petty rules, silly laws and frivolous lawsuits held little impact on him. But his health started to decline when he became infected with the wide-spread Do anything, just for the sake of doing something virus. And in later years his subsequently compromised immune system proved no match for the ravages of rampant irrational regulations.

For instance, his health rapidly deteriorated when schools implemented and then mindlessly administered numerous zero tolerance policies: a six year old boy was charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate, a teenager was suspended for taking a swig of mouthwash after lunch, and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student.

It declined even further when schools had to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a female student, but could not inform a parent when the same student was pregnant or wanted an abortion. And to make sure that they were part of the problem, parents attacked teachers for doing the job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

Common Sense started losing the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses, criminals received better treatment than their victims, and federal judges stuck their noses in everything from Boy Scouts to professional sports.

Common Sense took a beating when he couldn’t defend himself from a burglar in his own home, as the burglar could have sued him for assault.

Then there was a woman who couldn’t grasp the concept that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, and was awarded a huge settlement for her own careless small spill on her lap. And smokers who indulged in three packs a day for 40 years, surprisingly got lung cancer, and then sued the tobacco company. Hearing these and similar other sad stories caused Common Sense severe distress.

As the end neared, Common Sense drifted in and out of consciousness, but was inadvisably kept informed of new irrational energy related regulations, like Renewable Portfolio Standards. When he was subsequently informed that “environmental” organizations like the Sierra Club were behind this profound pillaging of the environment Common Sense died of sudden cardiac arrest.

Mr. Sense was preceded in death by his parents: Truth and Trust, his wife: Discretion, his daughter: Responsibility; and his two sons: Diligence and Reason.

He is survived by three stepbrothers: Whatsinit Forme, Iknow Myrights, and Ima Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he had departed. It wasn’t covered by the media, no doubt due to their guilt about their complacency in bringing about his demise.

If you still remember "Common Sense," please pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

If memory serves me correctly this was written right about the time I noticed "Logical Thinking" beginning to disappear. And Löök Where We Are Today¿ 🤔

[sentientcave]

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Read on AO3

Chapter 5- Never Gonna Give You Up

<Prev Chapter -

Contains: OC x Gaz, Lorelai "Rory" "Scout" Blackmoore-Price, Age gap romance (Scout is roughly 25), Annoying old men, Schemes and Plots, Poor decisions, alcohol mention, Inadvisable Flirting, Brandon warning, awkward social encounters

~5.7k - 18+ Only - MDNI

The way Gaz acted all week, it was as if nothing had happened. He was at ease, nothing more than friendly during their runs, joking with John like he hadn’t been trying to fuck his daughter. He helped in the kitchen when Rory cooked dinner, talking about nothing in that smooth caramel voice. Rory was not on such solid ground. She had to avoid looking him in the eye, had to be mindful of his distance, because a single second of those warm brown eyes on hers, the slightest brush of his hand, made her melt like an ice cube in the sun.

He was so unaffected, and she was flustered over every little thing he did, the movement of his hands holding a kitchen knife, the way sweat rolled down his neck when they ended their runs, the quirk of his lips when she made a snippy comment, had her running for her vibrator as soon as she could get away. She was reasonably sure that she was hiding her attraction well enough to get by, at least in front of John, but it was clear that Gaz knew.

Some of those “innocent” touches had to be on purpose.

Still, she wasn’t about to chase him just because she was practically gagging for a good fuck. He was hot, but he wasn’t worth the trouble.

Luckily, she’d had the forethought to say yes to Brandon’s invite last week. Saturday arrived with little fanfare, save for the churn of apprehension in her gut. Brandon was only a marginally better choice than Gaz, the only real mark in his favour the fact that she could get a good night of fucking in and then send Brandon packing. She had to live with Gaz, and had no idea when that would come to an end.

She watched Gaz through her window, too-familiar heat climbing up her neck as she watched his muscles flex, his skin gleaming with sweat in the sunlight as he hacked apart the big branch that John had taken down from the big oak in the yard weeks ago and neglected to do anything else with.

John wouldn’t admit that he’d done something to his back during his brief solo career as an arborist, but he’d been in a bad enough mood after that it was pretty obvious.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention away from the axe-weilding Adonis in the yard. She opened it up, sighing heavily when she saw the message.

Brandon: Wear that red dress tonight. I'm taking you somewhere nice.

You know this isn't a date, right?<<

Brandon: Don't be stubborn.

I’m not being stubborn. We’re broken up. <<

Brandon: Lorelai, I love you. I still want to make things work. Please wear the red dress. You look stunning in it. But you can wear whatever you want, just be mindful that we’re going somewhere nice.

Rory groaned. This was a mistake.

One that she was going to make regardless. She could let Brandon have his way for one night, let him take her to a hotel or something and then bail first thing in the morning. She was so horny she was pretty sure it was making her stupid.

It was all Gaz’s fault.

Fine. But you’d better not try anything. <<

She knew damn well that he would. He was more likely to try something the more she protested and said not to— If she said nothing, he’d assume she wanted to get back together and would lean back a little, make her chase him. If she said no before they even saw each other, he’d be putting his best efforts into seduction.

Brandon: Of course not. You know me, Lorelai. I just want to make you happy.

Predictable little bastard.

The red dress was pretty cute. She mulled over the options in her closet. The slinky black dress she’d worn out with the squad was a definite no— Every time she so much as looked at it she felt the phantom imprint of Gaz’s hands on her, so it was stuffed into the back of a drawer full of jeans that only sometimes fit. The sundresses were probably too casual, and the bridesmaid’s dress from Sadie’s second wedding was too formal, which left her with the red dress, a couple of cute jumpsuits, a belted blue button up dress, and a handful of wrap dresses that were almost the same, save for their colours or patterns. She dumped them all on the bed and stripped off her sweatshirt and shorts so she could try them all on.

She was just yanking the zipper up on the red dress when someone knocked on her bedroom door.

“Hey, Scout? Did you borrow my phone charger?” Gaz asked from the other side.

“Yeah, one second.” She rifled through her backpack to find it and yanked open the door, holding it out for Gaz impatiently. She was relieved to see he was wearing a shirt now, even if it did cling to his sweat-damp skin suggestively.

He didn’t reach for the charger. He let his eyes slide down and back up slowly, his eyebrows raised. “Woah. You goin’ somewhere?”

“Yeah. Brandon’s taking me out.”

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna go.”

“No, you said I wasn’t going to go. And maybe Ghost too. Which is meaningless, because you’re not the boss of me, and neither is he. Now do you want your charger or not?” She dangled it in front of his face. “I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”

His eyes turned flinty, and he caught her wrist, using his grip on her to steer her backwards into the room, shutting the door behind them. “You don’t even like him. Why would you go?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business!”

“You need t’be fucked, is that it? Needy little princess, needs a cock t’sort her out, yeah? Is that horse-faced git gonna give you what you want?”

“Horse-faced? You looked him up! Nosy bastard.”

“Of course I looked him up. He’s a twat. Whining all over social media about how much he misses you, although he makes it sound more like you’ve gone on a trip than dumped his arse. Ego, I’d wager, but it’s obvious why you left him the moment you look at the way he talks about you. Like you’re an accessory. He doesn’t deserve you.” His other hand slid to her lower back, pulling her in close against him, his eyes fixed on hers. “And he really doesn’t deserve you in this dress.”

“Gaz, you need to let me go,” Rory hissed. “This is not going to happen.”

“You want it too. You know we’d be good together.” His fingers crept up to toy with the zipper pull. “Give this a chance, Rory.”

Rory’s free hand landed on his bicep, and for a moment it seemed almost like they were dancing, pulled close together, her chin tipped up, breathing shallowly to keep the sliver of space between their bodies. Her resolve shook for a moment, her fingers clutching at his sleeve. He was far too handsome, too confident, too certain that they should abandon all sense and fall into bed together. The reasons why they shouldn’t didn’t seem all that important anymore. She just had to hold onto the tiny fragment of rationality that she had left, the singular brain cell not devoted to awareness of him. The heat of his body. The smell of his cologne, faded after a long day working outside, the scent of sweat and fresh cut grass lingering in the air, little flecks of bark stuck to his skin. She wanted to bury her nose into his chest and inhale. Maybe have him take his shirt back off so she could rub her face directly in his chest hair while he— No. She had to stop letting her mind slip into fantasy. “We can’t. Please don’t push it.”

“Because you know you’ll fold if I do.”

“Gaz, please get out. I can’t deal with this right now.” He was insufferable when he was right. She knew she looked pathetic, begging for mercy even if it were with her eyes alone. Ghost was right about this being a dangerous preoccupation, for both of them. Rory hardly had the ability to tell him no, and there was still a not-zero chance of one or both of her parents fully murdering him.

He ducked his head a bit lower, his nose touching hers. “Don’t go. Let me give you what you need.”

Rory pulled in a deep breath and pushed him back at the same time. “This cannot happen. I mean it. You need to go find some one else to take all this pent up energy out on, because I’m not going to let it be me.”

He pulled the charger out of her fingers and nodded, hiding everything behind a neutral mask. “Right. Have fun on your little date then.” He turned and opened the door, stepping out into the hall. He turned back, putting his hand on the edge of the door and holding it in place before Rory could shut it behind him. “But he still doesn’t deserve you in that dress. Wear the blue one.”

“Oh get out of here!” Rory snapped. “I’m not taking advice from you!” She forced the door closed, only a little dissapointed when he yanked his fingers out of the way before she slammed it shut.

She pulled the dress off and tried the next one, and then the next. The blue one was the next best choice, but she was torn about listening to either Brandon or Gaz, so she landed on a green jumpsuit. The legs were a little short, so she paired it with a pair of boots that hit above the hemline, giving her the added advantage of extra height. Brandon liked when she was as short as possible— He was only a couple inches taller than her, and she could eclipse him with a pair of three inch heels.

Once she’d gotten dressed and put on a bit of make-up and curled the ends of her hair, she stepped out into the hall, trotting downstairs with the little leather purse shaped like a backpack, which had everything she needed for an overnight stay tucked into it. There was a knock on the door just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, but she didn’t make it to the door before John did, even if he was hobbling a little to get there.

Brandon stood on the step with a bouquet of flowers, looking sharp in a well-tailored charcoal suit. His blond hair looked a little disheveled from the wind, the gelled into place “effortless” waves flopping one way and then the other in clumps. “Hello, sir,” he said, his wide eyes meeting John’s for a moment.

“Aren’t you the ex-boyfriend?” John asked flatly, glancing over his shoulder at Rory. “I thought you said you were going out with some of your mates.”

“Well, you see, I lied.” Rory tried to duck under his arm, but he shifted it down quickly enough to block her. “I knew you’d have opinions.” She pointed accusingly at Brandon. “And I told you to stay at the end of the drive and text me when you got here.”

“I never got the chance to meet your father before,” Brandon said, smiling blandly at John, his nerves showing clearly around the edges. “So I thought I’d introduce myself.”

“Where are you goin’?” John asked.

“Cardiff, sir—”

“Cardiff! That’s sixty miles away,” John protested. “Has to be three hours of drivin’, round trip. Seems like a poor choice for a night out.”

Brandon had the good sense to go a little green around the gills at the thought of telling John Price that he didn’t intend to return Rory until the next day. “Well, um, we were planning to stay overnight—”

“Absolutely not,” John growled, his grip on the door tightening so much that it was a surprise that it didn’t splinter under his fingers.

“Dad, I’m a grown woman. I used to live with him. You’re going to have to get used to the idea that sometimes I’m not going to be home all night.��

“There’s a reason why you don’t live with him anymore,” John pointed out.

“Do you even know the reason?” Rory asked. “I’m going. Think I’m a bit too old to be grounded.”

“Just— Be safe. And call if you need anythin’. Doesn’t matter how late it is.” John stepped to the side so Rory could walk past him.

“I know, dad. Thanks for being reasonable.” She gave him a quick hug.

Brandon took a step forward, his hand outstretched. “It was nice to meet you sir,” he said.

John glanced at his hand, grunted, and closed the door firmly. Rory covered her laughter with her hand, the affronted look on Brandon’s long face well worth the price of an evening with him. “Come on,” she said, nodding toward the car parked haphazardly behind John’s truck. “Lets go before he decides that I’m actually not too old to lock in my room.”

“I didn’t think he’d be so huge,” Brandon said. “I thought he was retired.”

“He’s retired from the field, but he stays in shape so he can embarrass the recruits. If they can’t keep up with an old man…” She shrugged lightly. “He’s not going to kill you, so you don’t need to worry. If he wanted to, he would have done it already.”

“That’s actually less reassuring than you might think,” Brandon said weakly.

Rory shrugged. “Whatever. Lets go.”

“You look really good,” he said, switching gears. “It’s no red dress, but you look good in green too.”

“If you wanted me to wear the red dress, you should have told me to wear something else. You know how ornery I am.”

He had obviously dressed to compliment her in the suggested outfit, however. His charcoal suit had a pocket square with flecks of bright red in it, and his watch and rings were gold. It was so like him to match a projection of her instead of asking what she planned to wear.

He sighed, circling around to the drivers side. “You don’t have to be so difficult, you know.”

“Of course I know. It’s a lifestyle choice I make every day.” Rory dropped into the passenger seat, wrinkling her nose at the too-strong scent of Brandon’s favourite cologne. It wasn’t bad— With how much each bottle in his collection cost, most of them were actually great fragrances— but he over-applied every time. “A girl’s gotta have hobbies.”

“Don’t you have enough hobbies already?” he asked, starting the car. The electric engine buzzed to life with hardly a sound, the screen on the dashboard lighting up.

“Obviously not. I don’t even play an instrument.”

He huffed. “You don’t need to.”

“Life isn’t all about needs.” Already Rory felt annoyance creeping in. They'd hardly made it to the end of the street and she was already having trouble remembering why she was bothering. Was a quick roll with a familiar dick really worth the hours of making conversation with him?

For now, yes, although the scale was heavily tipped in his favour by the fact that four elite soldiers were doing everything they could to keep her from having any fun whatsoever.

“Its not all about wants either."

"No. Its not." Rory reached for the radio and turned it on low. "Its about everything. We only get one life, we should make sure it's a full one."

"That's exactly it. I've had a lot of time to think lately. About everything-- And my life is a lot emptier without you. I miss you every day." He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed gently. "You miss me too, or you wouldn't be here right now."

"That doesn't mean I think we should get back together. I know I left things a bit… Unfinished, so I understand wanting closure, but I left for a reason."

"Did you? Because to me it seemed like you left because you're afraid of making the mistakes your parents did. Not every marriage ends in divorce, you know."

Rory looked out the window, watching the green fields flash by. “I know. I’m still not ready for it. I left so you could find someone who is.”

“I don’t want someone else. I’m willing to wait.”

As if it were that simple. As if that were the only thing that was wrong with their relationship. As if it weren’t insane for her to come across a poorly hidden ring box while cleaning their apartment one day when they had never even talked about marriage, beyond Rory expressing disinterest once early on. And he’d been such an asshole in the early days around the breakup, talking to her like she was a kid that didn’t know what she was doing giving him up. He’d gotten more apologetic as time went on, but that didn’t erase any of the other things he’d said.

“I’m not sure I want you to.”

His fingers twitched against her thigh. “So there is someone else.”

“What? No. I wouldn’t be here right now if there was someone else. I have my fair share of flaws, but I’ve never been disloyal. Which is more than we can say about you.”

“You forgave me for that.”

“Of course I did. I’m not angry, I’m just pointing it out. And I forgave you for trying to test my loyalty too. Even though it should have been obvious. I don’t care about going over the ways we both fucked up when we were together. There’s no point.”

Brandon sighed, finally lifting his hand off her thigh. "I think there's a point, but it's fine. We can talk about it later."

"Let's just keep it light for now. Did you get that promotion?"

"I did. It's been nice. I'm moving to the London office. That's why I texted you. Figured if I was gonna be in town that we could— Why are you living with your dad anyway? I thought you weren't close."

"Wanted a change of scenery, I guess." Rory shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Dad can be a bit… Over-protective. I think he’s trying to make up for all the time he wasn’t around when I was younger. It’s kind of misguided, but the thought counts.”

“Back when we first started dating I kind of thought that you were making up the whole SAS thing. Knew a couple lads back at Eton that lied out their arses about who their fathers were, so I’ve always been a bit suspicious when anyone has a family that sounds too interesting. And with who your mum is— I suppose I should have known better. You don’t lie about much.” He grinned at her, his too-white, too-perfect teeth flashing. “Except to your dad, eh?”

“I was just trying to keep you from getting your ass kicked. I’m almost surprised that Gaz didn’t pop out of the woodwork to threaten you too.”

“Gaz?”

“My dad’s friend. Recently divorced, he’s been staying at the house.”

Brandon’s smile flickered and fell away. “You never mentioned him.”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know, Lorelai, don’t you think it’s worth mentioning that some strange man is living with you?”

“Not really. He’s like forty.”

“You’re not that naive. You honestly don’t think he wants to fuck you?”

“I don’t care what he wants. It’s not my problem.” Rory crossed her arms, feeling defensive. “He’s deployed half the time anyway. He moved in and was gone for weeks straight off. Ghost and Soap and I moved all his shit out of his ex’s house.”

“Who?”

“Some of my dad’s other friends. The ones that answered the phone when you called last month.”

Brandon’s jaw tightened. “I see.”

“Oh stop being jealous. They’re married to each other.” Telling only partial truths wasn’t as straight-up as she liked to be, but saying that they all wanted to fuck her was only going to make Brandon pathetic, and she wasn’t interested in him having one of his reckless driving tantrums. “Why do you even care? Jessica told me you took Marcy Burrows out three times, and that she saw you go home with some hot brunette from Shenanigans.”

“They didn’t mean anything,” he protested.

“Brandon, you can fuck anyone you want. We’re broken up. I don’t care.”

The car started to accelerate, the countryside turning into a blur. “Why not? What does it take to get you to give a damn about anything?”

Rory pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing in and out deeply. “What do you want me to say? We weren’t together! What good does it do anyone for me to bitch about it?”

His knuckles turned white from his grip on the wheel. “How is it this easy for you to move on?” He blazed through a stop sign, narrowly avoiding a collision with the car that had the right of way. “I’ve been fucking miserable without you, and it’s like you’re not affected at all.”

“This was a mistake. Can you fucking slow down? Shite like this doesn’t exactly remind me of the good times.”

He startled slightly, his eyes flicking back to the spedometer. “Oh. Bloody hell.” He immediately slowed, returning to a more sensible speed. “Sorry, Lorelai, I don’t know what came over me.” He gave her a pleading look. “You want me to turn around and take you back.”

“No, it’s fine. Just chill out, alright? I’m fine because I went through all the emotional shit while I was deciding to leave. You’re allowed to be upset, but you don’t get to tell me what I should be feeling.”

"I just want you back, and I don't know how to get you back. I hardly know how I managed to get you in the first place."

"You were a lot more relaxed about it, for one thing. It was just fun, back then. Easy."

"I can't be the casual guy again, Lorelai. I love you too much."

"I'm not asking you to be. I'm not asking you for anything. I couldn't be what you wanted, so I took myself out of the equation." She sighed. "Can we just drop it? I'd like to catch up, but I don't want to fight."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just haven't been handling this well."

"It's okay. Have you been to the London office? How is it?"

"It's great, actually." He launched into telling stories about the new office, and with just a few questions Rory was able to keep him on topic for the rest of the drive to Cardiff, preventing any more bickering.

As they pulled into the city he grew quiet again for a few minutes, chewing on the side of his tongue like he always did when he was nervous.

"So, um, don't be mad " he said at last. "There's something about tonight that I didn't tell you."

"Oh god. What did you do?"

"Its my mum's birthday. She invited us to dinner-- My parents are spending the summer on the yacht so they're going to bring the boat into the bay and--"

"You haven't told them?" Rory demanded.

"Well. No. At first I hoped it would all blow over. I'll tell them after tonight. I just don't want to ruin my mum's dinner because of this. You know how much she adores you."

"You little sneak."

"You never would have agreed otherwise."

"Obviously not. I can't believe you haven't told them." Rory sighed. “I can’t do that. You seriously expect me to sit at a table with your family and pretend everything’s just fine?”

“And, uh, one of my bosses from the London office is an old school friend of my mum. So she’ll be there too.”

“For goddsakes, Brandon, you haven’t been talking about me to your new coworkers.”

“Just one night, Lorelai, I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“How on earth do you propose to do that?” she demanded.

“We’ve got an account with Harper Collins, I bet I could get one of your little manuscripts onto an editor’s desk.”

“I’ve already self-published a few, and I’m doing just fine. I don’t need—”

“That’s even better! Self-published authors have proven marketability. I could probably get you a face to face with Sharon. She sounded interested when I mentioned you.”

Brandon have you just been carrying on like we never broke up? With everyone?”

“This is just temporary, I know I can win you back if you just give me a chance. I’ll be better. Whatever it was that went wrong, I can change. I need you.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles, only taking a quick glance away from the road now that they were in the city. “You wouldn’t need to work, obviously, you could just stay home and work on your stories— We could get that dog you always wanted.”

“Are you seriously bribing me with a puppy?” Rory pulled her hand back and scrubbed her other palm over her knuckles. “Brandon, you sound insane right now. Lets just— We’ll just get through tonight first, and we can talk about the other stuff later.”

“You’re the best, Lor. I love you.”

Rory was seriously considering pulling her phone out to call John when they pulled up in front of a restaurant. One with a valet that Brandon tossed the keys to while Rory slid out of the other seat, her little backpack on her shoulder. It was small enough to pass as a purse, and she wanted to have it on hand if she needed to make a quick escape.

Brandon took her hand and tugged her along to the host stand inside the doors, identifying himself, with a big smile.

“Wonderful. Right this way, sir. Ma’am.”

Rory glanced around the restaurant as they walked through it. It was one of those glittering upscale places, a sleek bar on one side and the busy tables on the other. They were headed for the stairs, which meant a private room which meant that it was more in depth than just a dinner. Her eyes caught on a set of broad shoulders at the bar, and she nearly tripped when the man turned, flashing a smile and raising his glass to her.

What the hell was Gaz doing here?

And how had he gotten there ahead of them? Did he know about all this, and not even warn her?

Well, he had warned her not to go, but he certainly hadn’t been specific enough for Rory to think he was actually trying to be helpful.

The hostess ushered them into the room and left them. There was a long table along one side of the room, and a number of well-dressed people on the other side, everyone wearing at least one piece of red clothing. A theme party, no less. She glared at Brandon.

“I told you to wear the red dress!” he told her defensively.

“You didn’t tell me why,” she hissed.

“Oh, Lori, you came!” Brandon’s mother, Liz, immediately zeroed in on them and swept in for a hug, kissing Rory on the cheek. “I’m so glad. Brandon said you’ve been looking after your dad for the past few months. Such a good girl, putting everything aside for family.” She glanced at Rory’s jumpsuit, and directed her annoyance at Brandon. “You didn’t tell her the colour theme! I knew I should have sent the invitation directly to you. He’s hopeless.”

Rory smiled as brightly as she could, and shot Brandon another sharp look. “He really is. He neglects to tell me a lot of things.”

She was tugged along and introduced to a sea of people, and hugged tightly by Brandon’s sisters and, uncomfortably, his father. She smiled until her cheeks hurt, hiding her anger behind the cheerful, sociable mask, letting it fall when she finally escaped to the peripherals of the room for some air.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. An unknown number had texted her, although she knew it was Gaz the instant she openened it.

???: Had enough yet?

Go to hell. <<

???: Already been there, doll. More interested in taking a proper tour of your sweet little cunt.

Ew. That’s not happening. <<

She shoved the phone back in her pocket and tried to ignore the way her stupid, traitorous body responded to his words. The phone buzzed again in her pocket, but she didn’t check it this time. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Brandon slid his arm around her shoulders, leaning into the wall beside her. “Thanks for being a doll,” he purred, leaning in a little too close. “I love you so much. I’ll make it all up to you.”

“You’d better have something good planned,” she grumbled.

“I do. C’mere.” He pulled her over to the table, where everyone was settling down to eat, directing her to a seat between him and his mother.

Liz beamed at her. “Oh I am so glad you came tonight,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right without you. You’re practically family. You’ll have to come with us to Spain this winter, I don’t think you’ve met Erin’s youngest, have you? She wasn’t able to make it tonight, she’s not up to leaving the baby alone yet, but she’ll be more than happy to let you hold him by December. Although I’m sure you’ll start thinking about having your own children before long.”

“Mum,” Brandon said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

“I definitely don’t think that’ll be happening any time soon,” Rory said weakly. She wasn’t even sure she wanted kids at all, and she definitely didn’t want any with Brandon. Maybe with the right person, a few years down the line.

“Well why not? You’re out of school, you’re not a career woman. Seems like settling down would be just the thing,” Brandon’s father interjected, giving Rory a vague, patronizing smile. “Better to start young so you can keep up with your little ones.”

“He’s right,” Liz said. “I was so run down by the time Brandon was born, I practically let him run wild. It’s a wonder he’s turned out so well. The last few years especially. Your influence, of course.”

“Oh, I don’t know about th—”

“Don’t be so modest, Lorelai. You’ve made a man of the boy,” Brandon’s father said around a mouthful of something.

Rory laughed uncomfortably, the phone in her pocket tugging at her awareness. Gaz was just downstairs, his smug, awful company becoming more attractive by the moment. At least he wouldn’t pile on uncomfortable praise or suggest that she have a baby.

Maybe—

No. Absolutely not.

Rory tuned out of the conversation, nodding or laughing when the cues came up, focusing on the fairly bland rice pilaf and salmon filet on her plate. Why was expensive food so boring? If she was going out, she’d rather have a burger or curry fries nine times out of ten. She’d much rather stay home and cook herself. Gaz had taken to helping, and she had to admit it was a little fun to boss him about the kitchen. The teasing “Yes Chef,” in that warm, caramel sweet voice didn’t hurt either.

Stop thinking about Gaz.

The problem was just the comparison. Brandon didn’t measure up. He was insecure, hiding behind a flimsy facade of confidence, disorganized, volatile, and he whined and begged and wheedled until he got his way. Gaz was even-keeled, and maybe he was just bordering on arrogant, but it was well earned, that confidence rooted in experience and real skill. And Gaz was funny, and just enough of a cunt to make sparring with him too fun to resist.

But that didn’t mean she liked him either.

Maybe she just needed to move back to Liverpool, if Brandon was headed to London. She could get a bartending job again, find a cheap apartment, meet some normal well-adjusted people who didn’t threaten to drive her insane with every moment spent in their company. Or just focus on writing. She’d deliberately not looked at her sales or her author accounts on social media— She’d scheduled posts ahead, but she liked to leave it a good two weeks before she got back into marketing mode. A little respite while she started outlining the next thing.

Although it was nice to not have to worry about working, spending a little time coasting. And even if they were annoying and over-bearing, she had to admit she kind of liked Ghost and Soap and Gaz. And it was nice to spend some time with her father.

She just needed to find a way to redirect Gaz. Introduce him to someone, maybe. He was just fixating on her because she was forbidden. There wasn’t anything else there.

She drifted for the majority of dinner, smiling when someone looked at her, laughing when everyone else did, occaisionally answering the odd direct question (blessedly few and far between). She managed to get through dinner without trying to stab Brandon, although there were a few close calls. She just had to keep her eyes on the horizon. When this was all over she was going to make Brandon eat her out for a solid half-hour to make it up to her.

Would Gaz need that much reminding? If the sex had been enough to breath artificial life back into his marriage with Billie and stave off divorce as long as it did… Well, it promised to be good sex.

That she would never experience, of course. And didn’t want to.

The waitstaff began clearing the plates, and Brandon’s father stood to make a toast to his wife, and all the years they’d spent together, and how wonderful and accomplished she was. A few other people said some nice words for Liz, and then Brandon stood up to say a few things as well.

Rory half-listened to the speech, although something pricked at her when he stopped talking about Liz and started talking about how he hoped to follow in his parents’ footsteps when it came to a long, happy marriage. Alarm bells started going off when he looked at her and smiled.

The next moment crashed into her like a wave of cold water, turning the world slow and her heart-beat too fast. He slid his chair back and smiled at her again, and knelt down on one knee, pulling a ring box out of his pocket. This had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t possibly be happening.

“Will you marry me, Lorelai?”

Image Credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - Banners by @/cafekitsune

[distant-velleity]

“So much fanfare and bright lighting… Oh, is it midnight already?”

here you guys go … :)) !!! i didn’t think id have the motivation to do it but yu has been groovified (at the cost of retconning some of his old lines HAHDBJABDBSH)

anyway story time !!!

i actually don’t think he’d be eligible for the belle of the ball, given that he’s teeeechnically not a student (due to grim not existing in his universe)— unless there’s some loophole there—regardless, he goes around helping the princes and scouting people to recommend as the belle

by the time the voting commences, he chooses to leave and get some air—his social battery has run out

and whatever happens next can be left up to your imagination （＾∇＾）

taglist: @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @casp1an-sea @elenauaurs @nahelenia

@boopshoops @skriblee-ksk

event by @starry-night-rose

[carionto]

Gently now, easy does it, careful

The Humans maintain the majority of their fleet within the Sol system as they have not yet expanded further. A few are in Coalition systems on the border with the neutral buffer zone between us and the United Federation, who we are in a bit of a cold war that is looking to turn hot any day now. And there are scatterings of some scout groups dotted around the immediate vicinity (aka roughly 400 light-years from Sol).

Recently, they recalled almost every ship back to Earth for a special operation.

They are, uhh... trying to plug the 200km hole they blew in their planet with a moon of roughly equal size.

Normally we'd expect them to just dunk in there and see what's what, but we suppose because it's Earth they are for once being careful. All seventy five Dreadnoughts, one hundred and thirty eight carriers, three hundred and twelve destroyers, thousands of transports, even fourteen planet crackers, and millions more ships of all shapes and sizes are amassed around the now almost impossible to see moon of Uranus named Sycorax, gently tugging it with every available gravity hook and tractor beam towards the Earth.

They got bored of waiting and after Jimothy McCallahan showed it was in fact possible to attach and sync enough hyper-drives to straight up steal a moon, so yeah, they're doing that now for convenience sake.

To say this is the biggest patch job is pointless, as this is nothing but the mad inventiveness of Humanity on full display. Nobody else would think to try this, because nobody else would create the initial problem in the first place. According to our eons long records, there is no precedent, thank fuck. Nobody who made it to space had ever been THAT crazy before.

As the moon approaches the upper layers of the atmosphere, every ship in a burst of immense power amplify their grip and slow the process down to just about five meters a second. The next two days are agonizingly slow, but the display of beams engulfing the moon and shining past the swarm of ships are almost like a second green-tinged sun over the Pacific.

And then, without fanfare, it is inserted into its new home. Cheers on all channels at the accomplishment of this monumental task. Now, huh. Nothing's happening. That's good, we expected another calamity, but the Humans seem a little disappointed now. I think some of them also expected chaos and destruction.

Well, maybe it fixed Earth, probably not though. But then again, everything the Humans have done so far has felt like a probably not possible at all, and then it magically worked perfectly. Well, from their perspective. We would consider explosions and collateral damage a sign of failure, but oh well. Good for them.

Meanwhile we signed into Coalition law making it an official crime to steal moons, planets, planetoids from their host systems. Initially adding stars was dismissed, but after we remembered who we've got in space now, those were included as well. I bet they will try.

[lady-quen]

End of the Line

"A lifeless mannequin, dancing on strings. Each string spoke to him in the thousand hushed voices of magic. It hurt. Each string begged him to usher his body back together. The Alchemy danced behind his eyes. A silver serpent, swallowing its own tail. It fucking hurt. It isn't over, it said. You made it so." "You killed your death, now live with it."

[Post-EoD drabble, 3k words, just exploring the consequences of people finding out my Commander a is a lich. Part of joint canon with @commanderteag (Maolmuire used with permission.) Angst, tw for decapitation, swearing, fantasy racism. I took some very mild creative liberties with the Pact status and the Void.]

Even times of newfound peace still had their work cut out for what remained of the Pact.

The original plan had been to dissolve after Jormag and Primordus. Then, after Soo-Won. And now, with Void stragglers remaining all around the world, he was in charge of the strike forces in a large-scale round-em-up-and-neutralize operation. Because of course he would be - the famed Pact Commander that he was. At least the rounding up part was easy, with choice waypoints repurposed into ley-line beacons at Taimi's suggestion. One he took gladly, with the haze beast as the precedent for Void's attraction to energy nexi.

At least, this time, his emotions weren't being used as the lure. Even if the calculations were just barely within the margin of error, his daughter's plan was working.

"Sir! We've got sightings in the canyon!" Elina, one of the scouts, reported. Maelmordha nodded, comms device clicking to life.

"Hundar Pike strike force! On my mark, unload all explosives into the valley!"

"Demolitionist Tirxxi reporting! All troops in position!"

Splendid. Despite last minute adjustments when the Void headed down an alternate path, everything was going more or less smoothly. Much easier this way - if this continued to go well enough, nobody would even have to engage the enemy in ground combat. He alone would likely be more than sufficient to pick off the leftovers. A bitter smile graced his features in anticipation. Ever since Aurene had departed into slumber, he could no longer count on that little miracle atop the Harvest Temple. And so, he had to make this work without her.

The Void was already dying out, but the last of it congregated in areas most affected by the late Elder Dragons. Though waiting was certainly an option, there was always the risk of further loss of life - and so, mobilizing the army for one final cleanup was the most logical course of action. The Commander's voice once again entered the channel.

"Site Alpha confirmed, reached. Team Alpha, on my mark... Now!"

He could feel the explosion from miles away. The ground itself shook as a decent part of the canyon collapsed into itself, burying the monsters below in a rockslide, clouds of gunpowder, and an avalanche for good measure. Freeform Void attempted to bleed through out of the cracks before dissolving into the air without particular fanfare.

He repeated the order for site Beta, cutting off the encroaching shadows and closing the valley behind them. Perfect. Like sheep herded to the slaughter - without the mind behind it, the chaotic element was as directionless as any other dragon minions left without their master.

Still, where it was directionless, it was certainly not a complete pushover. The final act drew close; Descend into the valley on-foot with Legion choppers monitoring closely from above. If it gets ugly, fall back. It shouldn't, but he was no fool to risk his troops like so.

"Lieutenant Tornbanner. Everett. Cinniod. Maolmuire. We're going in."

"Sir yes Sir!"

A small contingent of shock troopers under Tornbanner, Everett's medics, Cinniod's mages and Maolmuire would be more than enough to make quick work of whatever creatures still clawed their way out of the snow. There weren't many, and most were already far too dazed by the explosion and distracted by the ley line energy wafted into the canyon to be as much of a threat in close quarters as they used to be during the Canthan campaign. And so, in they went.

Two dozen pairs of boots touched the ground when suddenly, the Commander raised up an arm, signaling for the soldiers to wait. His gaze, fixed on the heaps of rubble, was unreadable.

"...Allow me to handle this by myself. Stay behind and make sure nothing sneaks up on any of us. Eyes and ears wide open."

He did have a rather poor track record with magical lures. It would be for the best if he went on ahead and cleared the way, with the others as backup but otherwise out of harm's way. The unmistakable spires of Brand crystals shimmered all around him in their rich, purple hue, framing an entrance underground. Kralkatorrik. Guess a piece of the old man remained beneath the canyon, after all. Not that completely erasing an Elder Dragon's influence from the world was easy, even for another one. Forces this old had their roots set firmly in the world.

A part of him wondered whether she really wanted to purge every last trace of her grandfather. These crystals, now dormant - in a sense, were they not the final keepsake she still had of him..?

Did she remember him? Were the Dragons not connected by some sort of Dream? Did it possess past memories, as well? Did she know what he was like before he -

Went mad. Razed billions. Slaughtered her mother.

Something turned deep within his gut, a familiar pain he did not expect. Visions of a burning blade, the same one that took his life - and an asuran prodigy, the only other mortal he had known who stood, with him, at the precipice of immortality. How did it feel..? To achieve the state he had. Locked within the chassis of a machine, mind uploaded into ones and zeroes. A novel form of life, if it could be called that.

Blish, do you think you were alive?

He descended further into the cave, Banner warband watching closely behind.

My golem body kept me safe, but... if anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself.

Forgiveness. What a fleeting concept, comparably far easier to give than to receive. He stared into the brilliant violet. Hey, old friend... are you in there, still..? Do you "forgive" me?

Killing and corrupting... it's what you do. It's what you were born to do.

W - what?

A harsh left, swords pointed at nothing. Gold eyes blinking against the crystal gleam before turning to face his troops. The Commander gave a reassuring nod - nothing here, either.

He wasn't sure whether whatever he heard was a voice inside his mind or a product of stress. Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. The crystals had eyes.

Could a dead thing feel..? This wasn't Kralkatorrik. He was gone. And yet, there was a distinct sorrow within the air, and each step felt like moving through mud. He couldn't help but wonder: Did the beast regret all that he had killed? Was this a final vestige of his tortured soul, buried in hopes of never again seeing sunlight? Was what Aurene had been doing all this time..?

It wasn't just to erase his corruption. It was to erase his pain. Kralkatorrik, he... couldn't rest easy until he was gone to the very last, it seemed. But what about Blish? Was he gone, too, or was he suspended in that hellish state of darkness? Unable to pass on until the silent prison holding him was destroyed without a trace? Dear Mother, why did everything have to always end in boundless suffering?

And it was then that he realized. The miscalculation was not a miscalculation. They accounted for it, yes, but the Void? It hadn't been following the ley line at all.

It was following Kralkatorrik's torment.

The ground shook. Tendrils of black slithering through bedrock, snaking around Brand pillars.

Several malformed creatures emerged, taking on shapes of the long dead in a chaotic masquerade. Icebrood. Risen. Branded. Destroyers. Mordrem.

"Fall back!" Maelmordha wasted no time. This was bad terrain - a chokepoint. They needed to make it back out into the open, into a direct sightline with the choppers, should all this go south even faster than it was already going.

Wherever he was involved, things had a habit of turning to shit. SNAFU, indeed. At least then, his presence usually prevented the situation from escalating from merely "shit" to "fucked beyond measure and then some."

He was not about to let anyone die this time.

For you. Trahearne, Eir, Almorra, Blish, and too many others to count.

"I'll hold them back! Go! Go! Go!" A swift cut from Lædingr ended a charging Icebrood. Black ooze splashed his armor, sizzling where it hit. "Don't worry about me, I'll be right behind you!"

It was a lie. But, hah, he was very much planning on surviving. Call him a control freak - but this? How this ended was entirely up to him.

No more hesitation. No more loss. No more -

Vaughn Tornbanner's matchlock took out one last Mordrem before the Lieutenant herded his warband outside, the charr providing cover for escaping medics. Flame and lightning magic crackled all around them, lashing out against whatever unlucky monsters sought a bite of the Commander's forces. Here and there, phantom mirages of the fourth Knight of Thorn distracted and incinerated foes with beams of light.

There was more Void here than they had ever accounted for. Even in its death throes, it closed in like a storm.

The diabolist focused, and shade magic enveloped his form. The necromantic fire in his blades erupted into a blaze of blue, his once-gold eyes opening to the same, cold hue. Rows of fangs unfurled upon his chest, a full-body snarl.

In the shimmering dragon amethyst, he swore he could glimpse an image of a small and sickly asura. In life, Blish had mirrored Taimi so closely.

His lips moved, soundless. There was judgement in his eyes.

The front line of Void creatures suddenly stopped, phantom hooks digging into the mass of writhing shadow as his chains constricted all like hungry serpents. With a sickening crunch, the bodies before him were warped, limbs torn from their sockets, necks snapped, multicolor eyes fading in the flash freeze of death. He exhaled a puff of frigid breath, attempting to channel enough ice to seal over the entrance. In his chanting, Grenth's own magic - permafrost extending out of his palm in an explosion of crystalline shards.

The Void. It was trapped... finally.

"Commander!" There was abject terror in Cinniod's voice. Several people gasped. Maelmordha made a single step to turn around, dual blades still held firmly within his grasp.

"Everyone! Is everyone -"

There was the vague sensation of something cold passing through his flesh. A blur of black and technicolor, a flash of steel on his left - his eyes followed it, and then it was on his right. He... his neck... hurt.

Something strange happened to his vision and he watched his own body collapse with a thud against the ice wall. Rivulets of gold quickly seeping into black fabric as he convulsed and fell slack, Dromi and Lædingr falling from the grasp of still-twitching fingers.

"Holy shit." Someone commented, eloquently.

Vaughn's rifle and Maolmuire's blade made short work of the beast who had mysteriously gotten behind the seal.

"Commander..!" A cacophony of meaningless voices that only registered as though from underwater. Gibberish. People shouting, shuffling closer, then back again in sheer disbelief. Distant sounds of magic and gunfire, a yelled warning as more Void began to close in, this time having dug itself out of the avalanche resting outside. Someone at his side, clearly shell-shocked, calling for a medic.

What... what was... going on..? His senses, suspended and disembodied. He willed his hands to move and watched them do so, as though he were a puppetmaster observing his doll.

A lifeless mannequin, dancing on strings. Each string spoke to him in the thousand hushed voices of magic. It hurt. Each string begged him to usher his body back together. The Alchemy danced behind his eyes. A silver serpent, swallowing its own tail. It fucking hurt. It isn't over, it said. You made it so.

You killed your death, now live with it.

The body slumped against the ice seized, more sap spurting out of the stump of its neck. But his spirit held dominion over it yet. That foolish, foolish spirit. Fists clenched, feeling the familiar shape of sword handles. It was jarring. Utterly disorienting, but he closed his eyes, and he allowed the puppet strings of his curse to guide his movements. And he rose, like the countless dead he once commanded.

Now upright, the lich's body stumbled over to where his head lay. He released Lædingr and felt his own fingers in his leaves, and then he willed them to lift.

Only then did he open his eyes. Nothing but blackness and striking blue. Phantom pain pulsed throughout his flesh, and it maddened him. Even now, disconnected from his lungs, he let out a broken laugh - it seemed to reverberate, like the voice of a ghost. The Pact forces turned to face him. Several drew their weapons.

The implications of everything that transpired in this cave would wait.

"Just... let me handle this. Nobody dies here... but me."

He was the expendable one. He was the sacrificial lamb. And he was the wolf, draped in lambskin. Every death he took instead of another was penance. His every breath was a lie, for as long as nobody knew the true extent of the monster he really was.

Blish' mechanized voice echoed in his mind. This is the end of the line.

No more secrets.

That's right. He was the accursed; The Commander of Death. And all his fallen subjects haunted him.

Maelmordha stepped out of the darkness, Dromi hovering patiently next to his hand as he cast a spell. Without a shred of mercy, phantom fangs crushed the few Void creatures that still remained, grinding them into less than the dust they had come from. And then, all was quiet. Only the winter wind and the buzz of ley magic in his ears.

The Pact troops slowly approached, and with a deep sadness he realized most of their weapons were pointed at him. Their eyes, reflections of terror. And he realized he was still holding his head like a grocery bag.

The necromancer loudly cleared his throat - if a ghostly impression of doing so counted.

"...Excuse me." He fumbled for a moment to place his head where it used to be, making several adjustments before what seemed like blue fire began to knit his flesh back together.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Cinniod confessed, knees giving out as the elementalist violently dry-heaved into the snow. Several worried voices chattered, indistinct. Indecisive. He couldn't blame them - after all, they had just witnessed their hero turn out to be a villain. Perhaps Joko had been right - at least in the sense that both of them were abominations.

Perhaps the world would one day need saving - from him. But until then, he could still work to make it better.

"Soldiers."

His troops shuffled uncomfortably. They had every right to. Monster, someone snarled. He smiled.

"A good friend once told me.. to stop keeping secrets. I admit I fumbled that spectacularly. So, now, there you have it."

"Fucking knew you can't have killed a god." Vaughn spat, lips trembling over angry fangs. He raised his rifle, claw hovering dangerously over the lever. "Without selling your soul for power."

He laced his fingers, and smiled apologetically. There was no resentment in his eyes, only understanding. No words to make it better. Only open ears, to hear what was overdue. The price for this betrayal. At the very least, he had managed to keep up the act until the Dragon War was over. This operation? He would gladly step down if asked. Though Logan had been aware from the start, they both agreed on one thing: keep it under wraps. And if the cat ever gets out of the bag, then, well...

"Soldier." He addressed the charr. "While we're still on the field, your behavior is mutiny. Reconsider."

"Fucking bold of you to talk, monster!"

"And pray tell, what will shooting me accomplish that cutting off my head failed to?"

The Lieutenant snarled, but slowly lowered his gun. Bronze eyes gazing with nothing but pure disgust at the sylvari who seemed to be, despite all, a picture of flawless stoicism. All a part of his charm. Every liar needed a strong façade.

The Commander opened his mouth to speak. Maolmuire, however, had other ideas.

"Everyone! Don't you know the Void's properties have been evolving? Didn't you hear about the haze in the Gyala Depths?"

Maelmordha sighed. "Maolmuire..."

"It's messing with us. This is a mass hallucination!"

It seemed he had to be more... forceful.

"Maolmuire, stop! You've said enough."

"You're complicit, huh, you malformed weed?" Tornbanner sneered. "All you hivemind bastards were in on it from the get-go."

The necromancer focused his gaze on the Iron Legionnaire, something dark in his eyes that sent a shiver of dread up the warrior's spine. "I'm asking for the last time, Lieutenant Tornbanner. As for everyone else. I do not intend to falsify the truth, and welcome those who wish to report the incident to do so at their leisure."

He could feel an era close with his words. Despite everything, still he smiled. Time and time again, he found a way to smile in the face of those who doubted him. Always, he would.

"It is overdue that I stand in front of the Pact War Tribunal for my crime against Tyria and her people. But first... Lieutenant, report. Is everyone alright?"

Something shifted behind Vaughn's eyes. Flews slipping over jutting fangs - a predator that only stood down knowing its might to be no use. Not in front of a Godkiller. A Dragonslayer. A... whatever this man even was.

"Nobody was badly hurt... Maelmordha." The name tasted like venom on his tongue. "I answered you. So now, you'll answer us."

"I will, rest assured." Without further ado, the choppers descended, extending ladders. The necromancer looked away, turning his gaze to the sky.

"Everyone. It was an honor to be your Commander."

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Nine

The day of Eren and Aurora’s wedding arrived quietly, with no fanfare, no audience, and no grand celebrations. It was a simple, intimate moment in a world that had been filled with nothing but chaos and destruction. But for them, it was perfect.

Aurora had spent the morning in their cabin, preparing in silence. She had gathered wildflowers from the garden and the woods, weaving them into a simple but beautiful bouquet, the vibrant petals adding a splash of color to the day. Her dress was white and modest, something she had managed to piece together from fabric they had scavenged over time. The dress wasn’t extravagant, but it was elegant in its simplicity, fitting her figure in a way that accentuated her natural beauty.

As she stood in front of the small, cracked mirror they had in the cabin, Aurora took a deep breath, her fingers gently smoothing over the fabric of her dress. The reality of what was about to happen settled over her—she was about to marry Eren. The boy she had known since childhood, the man she had fallen in love with, the person who had saved her in more ways than one. Her heart swelled at the thought.

Outside, Eren was waiting by the lake they had chosen for the ceremony. It was a spot they had discovered not long after they moved into the cabin, a place that felt peaceful, away from the horrors of the world. A large, ancient tree stood near the water’s edge, its branches sweeping down toward the surface of the lake, creating a canopy of leaves that provided shade and a sense of tranquility. It was the perfect place for their vows.

Eren had dressed simply for the occasion, wearing a plain white dress shirt and dark pants he had managed to acquire during his time undercover. There was no need for anything fancy, nothing to distract from the moment. His hair was tied back, a few loose strands falling around his face, and his eyes were focused on the tree, waiting for Aurora.

The elderly clergyman Eren had found stood nearby, quietly preparing for the ceremony. He hadn’t asked too many questions, assuming that Eren and Aurora were just a young couple in love, looking to be married in secret. Eren had given the man his undercover name, Eren Kruger, to keep their true identities hidden. The clergyman had simply nodded, happy to perform the service without prying.

When Eren heard the soft rustle of leaves behind him, he turned, and his breath caught in his throat.

Aurora was walking toward him, the wildflower bouquet in her hands, her white dress flowing softly around her as she moved. The sunlight filtering through the trees illuminated her like something out of a dream, casting a golden glow on her platinum blonde hair and the soft curves of her figure. She looked ethereal, breathtaking, and Eren couldn’t help but stare, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt.

Aurora met his gaze, a soft smile spreading across her face as she walked toward him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the bouquet. But as she drew closer to Eren, all of her nerves seemed to melt away. This was where she was meant to be—by his side, always.

When she finally reached him, Eren took her hand, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. He couldn’t stop the small, awestruck smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Aurora blushed, her smile widening as she glanced down shyly. “Thank you,” she whispered back, her heart fluttering at the tenderness in his voice. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

Eren chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. For a moment, they just stood there, gazing at each other, the world around them falling away. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of enemy territory. It didn’t matter that war was looming on the horizon. Right now, in this moment, all that mattered was them.

The clergyman cleared his throat gently, reminding them that the ceremony was about to begin. Eren and Aurora turned to face him, their hands still tightly clasped together.

The ceremony was short and simple, but it was perfect for them. The clergyman spoke softly, reading the vows that had been spoken by countless others before them. But for Eren and Aurora, the words carried a special weight. They weren’t just vows to love and cherish each other—they were promises to protect one another, to stand by each other in a world filled with danger and uncertainty.

When it came time for their vows, Eren turned to Aurora, his eyes soft but filled with unwavering resolve. He squeezed her hand gently, his voice low but steady as he spoke. “Aurora, from the moment we found each other again, I knew I couldn’t live without you. You’ve been my light in a world full of darkness, and I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. I’ll give you the world, no matter what it costs. I love you, and I always will.”

Aurora’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to him, her heart aching with love for the man standing before her. She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke her own vows. “Eren, you’ve saved me in more ways than you’ll ever know. You’ve given me hope when I thought I had none left. I love you more than anything in this world, and I promise to stand by your side, no matter what. I’ll love you forever.”

The clergyman smiled softly at the two of them before he spoke the final words that would seal their bond. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Eren didn’t hesitate. He gently cupped Aurora’s face in his hands, his fingers brushing against her soft skin as he leaned in and kissed her. It was a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the love and promises they had just spoken to each other. Aurora melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back, her heart soaring.

When they finally pulled away, Eren rested his forehead against hers, a small, contented smile on his lips. “Mrs. Aurora Jaeger,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride and love.

Aurora smiled, her heart swelling at the sound of her new name. “Mrs. Aurora Jaeger,” she echoed softly, her voice filled with the same pride and love.

They stood there beneath the large, ancient tree, the lake shimmering in the background, the world around them quiet and still. For the first time in a long time, Eren felt at peace. He had Aurora, the woman he loved, and she was now his wife.

But even in this moment of happiness, Eren’s resolve hadn’t wavered. The Raid on Liberio was less than a month away, and the weight of that mission still loomed over him. But now, with Aurora by his side, he felt more determined than ever to see it through. He would do whatever it took to protect her, to create a world where they could live together in peace. Even if it meant burning everything else to the ground.

The clergyman gave them one last smile and blessing before he turned and left. And as the newlyweds walked hand in hand back to their cabin, Eren couldn’t help but feel that, despite the war, despite the bloodshed that awaited them, they had won something today. They had won each other.

And that, above all else, was worth fighting for.

…

Later on that night, Eren led Aurora through the small garden behind their cabin, his hand warm and steady in hers as they stepped onto the soft grass. The moon hung full and bright in the sky, casting a silver glow over everything, making the scene before them feel even more magical. Aurora gasped softly as they came into view of the surprise Eren had prepared—a simple but romantic setup that made her heart swell with love and happiness.

There, under the soft light of the moon, was a nest of blankets and pillows, surrounded by the soft glow of candles. Wildflower petals, gathered from the surrounding woods, were scattered across the blankets in delicate patterns. Everything was laid out carefully, as if Eren had put his heart and soul into creating this moment for her. It was simple, but it was perfect. A gesture of love that left her speechless.

“Eren…” Aurora whispered, her voice filled with awe. “I… I didn’t know you planned this. It’s beautiful.”

Eren smiled, a rare, soft smile that only she ever saw. “I wanted to do something special,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “I know we can’t have a honeymoon, not like a normal couple. But I thought… maybe this would make tonight a little better.”

Aurora’s heart swelled with emotion as she looked up at him. The man who had been through so much, who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, had taken the time to create something so beautiful, just for her. For them.

Eren moved away to light the candles, the soft flicker of the flames adding a warm glow to the moonlit garden. As he knelt down to light the last candle, Aurora watched him, her heart pounding softly in her chest. She hadn’t known what to expect tonight, but as she stood there, watching the man she loved more than anything, something inside her stirred.

Eren was always so careful with her, always putting her comfort above everything else, and she loved him for that. He never pushed her, never expected more than she was ready to give. But tonight… tonight she wanted to be close to him in a way she had never been before. She wanted to share herself with him completely, to show him how much she loved and trusted him.

When Eren finished lighting the candles and stood, Aurora felt a surge of emotion wash over her. She moved toward him, her bare feet softly brushing against the grass as she closed the distance between them. Without hesitation, she placed her hands gently on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Eren looked down at her, his eyes soft but questioning.

“Aurora?” he whispered, his voice low, filled with concern and affection.

She looked up at him, her heart racing but steady in its certainty. Her blue eyes, reflecting the soft glow of the candlelight, met his gaze, and Eren could see everything she felt in that moment—the love, the trust, and the desire. It was written in every line of her face, in the way her hands trembled slightly against him, in the way her lips parted as she tried to find the right words.

“I want to be with you, Eren,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of emotion. “I want to be close to you… in every way.”

Eren’s breath caught in his throat at her words, his heart thudding in his chest as he processed what she was saying. He had always been so careful, always holding back because he didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. Even now, on their wedding night, he had prepared himself to wait, to take things at her pace. But hearing her say those words, seeing the love and trust in her eyes, made his heart ache with a love so strong it was almost overwhelming.

“Aurora… are you sure?” he asked gently, his voice low and filled with care. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you’re not ready.”

Aurora smiled up at him, her heart full. She had never been more certain of anything in her life. “I’m sure, Eren,” she whispered. “I love you. And I trust you. I want this… I want you.”

Eren felt a rush of emotion surge through him, his eyes softening as he looked down at the woman he loved more than anything. Slowly, carefully, he reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. He could see the love in her eyes, the desire, the trust. It made his heart ache with the need to protect her, to cherish her, to love her the way she deserved to be loved.

Without another word, he leaned down and kissed her, soft and slow, his lips moving gently against hers as he poured all of his love into that one kiss. Aurora responded immediately, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she leaned into him, her heart racing with anticipation and love.

The kiss deepened, becoming more intense, more urgent, but always careful, always gentle. Eren’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as the world around them seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, standing under the moonlight, surrounded by the warmth of the candles and the soft fragrance of the wildflowers.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts.

“I love you, Aurora,” Eren whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long. I’ll always love you.”

Aurora smiled, her eyes filled with tears of happiness. “I love you too, Eren,” she whispered. 

Eren’s hands moved to her waist again, and slowly, he led her to the nest of blankets and pillows he had prepared. The candles flickered softly around them, casting a warm glow over the garden. Eren’s heart was racing, but it wasn’t just from desire. It was from the overwhelming love he felt for the woman sitting beside him.

As they lay down together, their bodies pressed close, Eren made sure to move slowly, giving Aurora every chance to stop if she wasn’t ready. But she never hesitated. Her hands moved to his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as she looked up at him with a soft smile.

“I trust you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I want this.”

Eren nodded, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. His lips found Aurora’s again, slow and tender at first, as though savoring the sweetness of each kiss. His hand rested gently on her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest, her fingers tangling in Eren’s hair as she responded to his kisses with growing intensity. Each kiss seemed to pull them closer, the connection between them deepening as their bodies pressed together.

The warmth of Eren’s touch sent shivers down Aurora’s spine, and she felt herself melting under the weight of his affection. There was something so gentle, so deliberate in the way he kissed her, as if each touch of his lips was a silent declaration of the love he held for her.

Under the soft glow of the moon, Eren’s hands began to explore, his fingers brushing the curve of her waist, tracing delicate lines along her skin. Aurora felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as his hand moved to the small ties of her dress, and for a moment, she hesitated. This was the first time they had ever been this close, the first time she would bare herself completely to him.

But when she looked up into Eren’s eyes, all the fear and uncertainty melted away. His gaze was soft, filled with so much love and care that it made her heart ache. He wasn’t rushing her, wasn’t pushing her into anything—he was simply there, waiting, his love for her evident in every breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” Eren whispered against her lips, his voice low and filled with reverence.

Aurora blushed at his words, her heart racing as she nodded, silently giving him permission to continue. She trusted him completely—trusted him with her heart, her body, her soul.

With slow, gentle hands, Eren reached for the ties of her dress, his fingers working with care as he loosened the fabric. He moved slowly, giving Aurora time to adjust, time to let the moment sink in. As the dress fell away, pooling around her on the blankets, Eren’s breath caught in his throat.

The moonlight bathed her in a soft, ethereal glow, highlighting every curve, every line of her body. His eyes drank in everything, her soft skin, her supple breasts, the curve of her waist—it was all driving him wild. Aurora’s skin flushed under his gaze, but there was no shame, no fear—only love and trust. She looked up at Eren, her heart fluttering as she saw the passion and desire in his eyes. He was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Eren’s eyes roamed over her, drinking in the sight of her bare body with a mixture of awe and tenderness. His heart pounded in his chest as the raw emotion between them became almost overwhelming. He wanted to worship her, to show her just how much she meant to him.

Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her neck, then her collarbone, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake. Aurora shivered at the feel of his mouth on her skin, her hands gripping the blankets beneath her as she tried to contain the rush of emotions flooding through her.

Eren’s lips moved lower, kissing across her breasts, swirling his tongue around he sensitive nipples before leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach, each touch sending waves of warmth through her body. He moved with such care, such reverence, as though every inch of her deserved to be cherished. His lips found the soft skin of her thighs, and he left gentle love bites there, his hands resting gently on her hips.

Aurora’s breath hitched in her throat as she bit down on her lip, trying to contain the soft moans that threatened to escape. But Eren noticed, and he lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers, filled with a tender intensity.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, his voice husky. “I want to hear you, Aurora.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded, her breath shaky as she let herself relax, let herself give in to the feelings swirling inside her. She trusted Eren with every part of her, and she wasn’t going to hide from him.

Eren kissed her again, slowly, tenderly, one of his hands moving to intertwine with hers as they lay together beneath the stars. The world outside no longer existed—there was only this moment, only the two of them wrapped up in their love, making memories that would last a lifetime.

His other hand moved with gentle care as he slowly parted Aurora's thighs, his gaze never leaving hers. The moonlight bathed them in a soft, ethereal glow, casting a serene stillness around them. His eyes flickered down to her hot core and he could see by the way it leaked, Aurora was very aroused. His heart was racing, not from haste or urgency, but from the overwhelming love and devotion he felt for the woman lying before him.

He settled himself between her legs, one hand still intertwined with hers. Eren wanted her to feel everything—to know that in this moment, she was the center of his world. He pressed soft kisses along her inner thighs, his lips brushing her skin like whispers of affection. Aurora’s breath hitched, and a soft sigh escaped her lips, her fingers tightening around his as a wave of emotion washed over her.

He could feel her trust in him, the openness in her body and her heart, and it filled him with a sense of awe and responsibility. Eren’s touch was tender, every move deliberate, as though he was worshipping the ground she lay upon. He was aware of her every reaction, every sigh, every tremble of her body as she responded to his gentle caresses.

“Aurora,” he whispered, his voice filled with reverence, as he pressed another soft kiss to her skin. The sound of her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine, and she let herself sink deeper into the moment, surrendering to the overwhelming warmth and safety that Eren provided.

Her fingers tightened around his as she felt the intensity of the connection between them growing. She had never felt this close to anyone before, and the trust she had in Eren, in this moment, made her heart swell.

Aurora's soft moans filled the quiet night air, growing louder with each tender caress and kiss Eren gave her. His movements were careful, deliberate, as though each touch was a silent declaration of how deeply he loved her. 

Eren’s mouth finally latched onto her core and Aurora’s back arched as she let out a loud moan–her free hand instinctively reaching down to grip in his hair tightly. Eren swirled his tongue around her clit and sucked on it gently. He loved the way she was responding to him. Eren then began dipping his tongue into her hot slit, reveling in the delicious flavor of her juices that were overflowing down her thighs.

Aurora’s breaths became shorter, her chest rising and falling with each wave of sensation that coursed through her body. Her mind swam with emotions, the overwhelming love she felt for Eren mixing with the pleasure that was building inside her. The connection between them felt like nothing she had ever experienced before—it was as though their souls were intertwined, bound together by the love they had for each other.

Eren never took his eyes off her, watching as she responded to his every touch. He could feel her body tensing, her breath catching in her throat as the sensation within her grew stronger, her moans becoming more intense. He squeezed her hand gently, a silent reassurance that he was there with her, guiding her through the moment.

“Eren…” Aurora whispered, her voice breathless, filled with both love and need.

He responded by sucking on her clit even harder, his touch filled with nothing but care and affection. And then, with a shuddering gasp, Aurora felt herself reaching that point of no return, her body arching as she gave in to the wave of pleasure that washed over her.

Eren felt her tremble beneath him, and he held onto her, not letting go as she reached her peak, her soft cries of ecstasy filling the air around them. Her body pulsed with the intensity of the moment, and Eren stayed with his head buried between her legs swallowing every drop of her climax. His hand which was still entwined with hers was grounding her as she slowly came down from the high.

When it was over, Aurora’s head collapsed back onto the blankets, her chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. Her fingers were still tightly intertwined with Eren's, and she looked down at him, her face flushed, her eyes filled with both vulnerability and love.

Eren moved to lay beside her, pulling her into his arms as they lay together beneath the stars, the world quiet around them. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, holding her close, feeling her heart beating against his chest.

"I love you," Eren whispered, his voice low and filled with emotion.

Aurora smiled up at him, her heart full as she snuggled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. "I love you too, Eren. More than anything."

But even though she just had an intense orgasm…Aurora wanted more. And one look into Eren’s intense green eyes, she saw the desire swirling around in them—he wanted more too.

Aurora laid next to Eren, her nude form bare for him to drink in. Her platinum blonde hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, shimmering in the candlelight. Her heart raced as she looked up at Eren, her body trembling not out of fear, but out of the sheer anticipation of what was to come. She had never felt this vulnerable, yet with Eren, she knew she was safe. 

Eren’s breath hitched as his gaze swept over her, the sight of his bride filling him with a deep longing. His hands shook slightly as he removed his shirt, tossing it aside, revealing the toned, scarred muscles of his chest and arms. He had always been strong, but standing there with Aurora, he felt exposed in a way he never had before. His heart pounded in his chest as he slipped out of his pants, the cool air brushing against his skin.

Aurora’s eyes widened as she took him in fully, her gaze dropping to his manhood. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing a deep red. The sheer size of him made her wonder if it would even fit, and she knew it would probably hurt, but despite the nervousness fluttering in her chest, she wanted this—wanted him. She had never felt so connected to anyone, and tonight, under the stars, she would give herself completely to him.

Eren was already trembling with desire, his body tense with anticipation as he gently pushed Aurora onto her back on the soft blankets. She let out a soft gasp as she lay back, the cool grass beneath the blankets grounding her. Eren moved over her, his hands trailing over her body with a reverence that made her heart swell. His touch was soft, but there was an underlying intensity to it, as if he was holding back the storm of emotions surging within him.

He hovered over her, his forehead resting against hers for a moment, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the night. His hand caressed her cheek, thumb brushing over her soft skin. “I love you, Aurora,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“I love you too, Eren,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of her words was undeniable.

Eren positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs gently as he wrapped them around his waist. He lined himself up with her, the tip of his hardened length pressing against her core, and they both sucked in a breath. The sensation was foreign to both of them, but the desire to be closer, to become one, pushed them forward.

He moved slowly, pushing inside her inch by inch. Aurora gasped, her fingers digging into his back. The feeling was intense, a mixture of pleasure and pain as her body adjusted to him. Eren, too, hissed at the sensation, his brows furrowed in concentration as he fought to maintain control. The pleasure was overwhelming, more than anything he had ever imagined, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

He paused, sensing her discomfort. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained but full of concern.

Aurora nodded, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “It’s okay, Eren,” she reassured him, though her breath was shaky. “I want this. I want you.”

With her permission, Eren continued, pushing deeper until he was fully sheathed inside her. They both let out a simultaneous moan, the feeling of being connected so intimately overwhelming them. Eren stayed still for a moment, letting Aurora adjust to his size. He could see the tension in her expression, but also the determination. She was strong, his Aurora—stronger than anyone he had ever known.

After a few moments, Aurora shifted beneath him, her body relaxing as she got used to the sensation. She gave him a small nod, signaling that she was ready. Eren began to move, slowly at first, his movements measured as he fought the urge to lose himself in the pleasure. Each thrust sent waves of sensation through both of them, the connection between them growing deeper with every moment.

Aurora gasped as he picked up the pace slightly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she arched her back into him. “Eren,” she moaned softly, her voice laced with both pleasure and longing.

Hearing her say his name in that way nearly undid him. His control wavered, and he found himself moving faster, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate. He was gripping her tightly now, his hands roaming her body as if he couldn’t get close enough. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a fervent kiss, their breaths mingling as he murmured against her lips, “I love you, I love you so much.”

Aurora’s body trembled beneath him as she felt herself nearing the edge, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel Eren’s body tensing as well, his movements becoming more erratic as he fought to hold back. But when she whispered his name again, pleading for him, he finally let go.

They reached their climaxes together, Aurora crying out softly as her body tightened around him, the sensation sending Eren over the edge. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he released inside her, the world around them fading away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They lay there beneath the stars, their bodies tangled together, hearts racing as they came down from the high of their union. Eren held Aurora close, his hand stroking her hair as he whispered her name softly, over and over again, like a prayer.

In that moment, everything else—the war, the chaos, the destruction—seemed far away. Here, in the garden of the cabin he built for them, under the infinite starry sky and the blessing of the full moon, they were simply Eren and Aurora. Husband and Wife. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Eren felt a glimmer of peace.

~

Masterlist | Patreon

Join my Taglist

Note: I am three chapters ahead on patreon:)

[creativegirl247]

Break from art posts for a thing about instrument headcanons(+some canon) for the mercs!

Scout plays the bongos in his spare time. He plays it in the Runner's Rythm taunt, although idk if it's a canon taunt.

Demoman can canonically play the piano, as seen in Expiration Date, but it's unclear how well. I headcanon that he can also play the bagpipes because of his Scottish origin.

Soldier is seen playing a trombone in the Fubar Fanfare taunt, but I headcanon that he can play the trumpet, idk how well tho.

Medic is seen playing the accordion in the Surgeon's Squeezebox taunt, but I imagine him playing the violin, and he's pretty talented at it.

Sniper canonically play the sax and is seen playing it in Expiration Date and in the Killer Solo taunt, but upon further research, he plays the didgeridoo in the Didgeridrongo taunt, but I can't really see him playing it.

Engineer is literally playing the guitar throughout Meet the Engineer. The instrument appears in the Guitar Smash taunt, electric guitar in the Shred Alert taunt, and plays a little guitar tune in an unused taunt without a name. Notably, he also plays the banjo in the Dueling Banjo taunt.

Heavy doesn't seem like the type to play an instrument. His hands are really big and would probably struggle with precise playing. In terms of canon taunts, he doesn't play anything, and the Bolshevik Ballad isn't in the game.

Spy may or may not play the piano. I've seen him depicted singing, but with a guy who smokes that often probably doesn't sound great.

Pyro... Oh, Pyro. I've seen him depicted playing the piano as well, whether it be a grand on or a child's toy, but I want to note that the Rainblower looks a lot like a brass instrument, maybe hinting at something. No headcanon here, I don't know if he would actually play anything.

I hope you enjoyed my little insight. I've been wanting to do this for a while 💀

[liesmyteachertoldme]

Death of Common Sense

Today we mourn the passing of our old friend COMMON SENSE.

COMMON SENSE lived a long life, but died in the United States from heart failure on the brink of the new millennium.  No one knows how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He selflessly devoted his life in schools, hospitals, homes, and factories helping folks get jobs done without fanfare and foolishness.  For decades, petty rules, silly laws, and frivolous lawsuits held no power over COMMON SENSE.  He was credited with cultivating such valued lessons as “to know when to come in out of the rain”, “why the early bird gets the worm”, and that “life isn’t always fair”.

COMMON SENSE lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you earn), reliable parenting strategies (the adults are in charge, not the kids), and it’s ok to come in second. A veteran of the Industrial Revolution, the Great Depression, and the Technological Revolution, COMMON SENSE survived cultural and educational trends including body piercing, “whole language” and “new math”.  But his health declined when he became infected with the “If-it-only-helps-one-person-it’s-worth-it” virus.

In recent decades, his waning strength proved no match for the ravages of well intentioned, but over bearing regulations.  He watched in pain as good people became ruled by self-seeking lawyers.  His health rapidly deteriorated when schools endlessly implemented zero-tolerance policies. Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate, a teen suspended for taking a swig of mouthwash after lunch, and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student only worsened his condition.  It declined even further when schools had to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student but could not inform the parent when a female student was pregnant or wanted an abortion.

Finally, COMMON SENSE lost his will to live as churches became businesses, criminals received better treatment than victims, race quit being part of a physical description, and federal judges stuck their noses into everything from Boy Scouts to professional sports.  Finally, when a women, (and jury), too stupid to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, was awarded a huge settlement, COMMON SENSE threw in the towel.

As the end neared, COMMON SENSE drifted in and out of logic, but was kept informed of developments regarding questionable regulations such as those for low-flow toilets, rocking chairs, baby carriages, light bulbs  and stepladders.

COMMON SENSE was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son Reason.  He is survived by two stepbrothers; My Rights, and Ima Whiner.  Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Obituary author unknown.

[reco-obsessed]

since its a special occasion tomorrow, (REKO BIRTHDSY TOMORROWWWWW) do you have any hcs for how reko celebrated her birthday over the years?? :33

hc anon here.....im always lurking.....and stalking.....

(you can only answer this ask tomorrow so its on time if thats ok.....im sending it early though because im EVIL!!!!!!!!)

hohoho, i like your sick and twisted ways hc anon. i like them verrrry much. youre always on the hunt for more hcs. i can respect that

id say its actually a good thing you sent it early because it does usually take me a day or two to write all my hcs out. im a pretty slow writer.

admittedly it isnt something ive thought of extensively. i dont personally know a lot about japanese culture, but some brief online research seems to imply birthdays arent as big of a deal there as they are where im from; in fact, it seems that individual birthdays as opposed to all babies aging up unilaterally on new years was only instituted in japan in the 50s. most birthday traditions are borrowed from western ones, and tend to be understated in comparison. keep in mind this all from a really quick google search so i dont wanna sound like im an expert on any of this, im just some random westerner. so go ahead and take a grain of salt for everything i say forward. but from a really general perspective, id assume theres less fanfare about it.

overall, i dont think reko would put a lot of extra emphasis on her birthday. in fact, even if she were going by more western traditions, i doubt she would. she seems like more of the type of person to not care so much for the idea of a day thats all about her. if it werent for her excellent memory, she'd probably forget about it until after it already happened.

that said, there are a couple specific dates that have more importance in japan- particularly 3, 5 and/or 7 (it depends on the kids gender). children are sometimes taken to shrines and dressed in kimonos to celebrate for living into late childhood. i have no idea how common this practice actually is because its hard to find any reliable sources that actually specify, but given the fact ive mentioned i believe reko and alice's mother would be more spiritual, i think it would make a lot of sense if they did it regardless. but seeing as these ages are all before reko got scouted and her and her brothers relationship was more tense, theres not much angst i can think of to inject here.

that said, its not like people in japan just dont do anything for their birthdays. its often a dinner or similar small celebration with close ones, and i imagine once reko was taken under the wing of her father and pushed into the limelight, she eventually stopped wanting to even do those. her interest in "hard work" and already being so "mature" would be commended, but, alice would be in the background seeing it with his own reservations. he was too young back then to fully comprehend just how poorly she was being treated and how this was reflective of it, so he never spoke up; its one of those things he looks back on with guilt, and so he always has this conflicted feeling around the time of her birthday (even though reko doesnt really care, and would probably be disheartened to know her brother is getting all sad and worked up about it).

in reality, reko stopped wanting those family dinners because she was already struggling to look her parents in the eye because of all the pressure she was being put under by them. at first, she really enjoyed getting to have the time with her family because she was so busy now, but her father getting so obviously blinded by greed and her mother turning the other cheek made things too tense. this wasnt obvious to anyone at first, until of course she had her rebellious phase, and she stopped trying to hide how she really felt.

fast forward to her 20th birthday.

the 20th birthday is considered the milestone to adulthood in japan, and theres certain cultural events associated with it, all celebrated on the succinctly named "coming of age" day. speeches given, the wearing of traditional or formal clothing, the opportunity to reunite with people from secondary school.

im less sure of how to interpret this for rekos character; by 20 shes very likely to already be a part of samurai yaiba, and depending on her celebrity status, im not sure whether she'd want to attend a major public event specifically for that reason. i have no idea what celebrity culture is like in japan, so im not sure thatd even be an issue. but even besides that- theres hang ups here. a celebration like this likely means shes going to have to be around her close family. based off what we know, her relationship with her parents can be probably be described as "awkward" at best at this stage. her fathers relaxed, but shes still more than likely sorting out her baggage. she wants to be grateful to her parents, make amends, but probably still harbors some hurt after all these years. and of course her dynamic with her brother at this time is a whole can of worms.

seeing how emotionally distanced she is from everyone and how isolated shes been from her peers, i dont think she'd really have anyone to celebrate with. combine that with her disregard for of the importance of these things, and... i struggle to see her looking forward to it, to say the least. i wouldnt be that surprised if she didnt want to celebrate coming of age day at all, and just treated it like any other day until one of the band members finds out and calls her out about it, upon which she maybe has a sudden change of plans. which, depending on which member that was, might jsut be going out for a legal drink for the first time. but its hard for me to say. if she did, she may not want to do it in the most traditional sense. maybe she still travels to her home town, but rather than going to a highschool reunion or renting out a furisode, she uses it as more of a way to observe the way things have changed since she left. maybe she finally has a birthday dinner with her parents again.... you know. baby steps.

until we get info on reko in her 60s, thats about it for any ideas i have on reko birthdays !

[puriteenism]

Melanie!!

1 — Her mortal parent and the story of her birth?

2 — Her age, her favorite food, is she a dog lover or a cat lover?

3 — how do you imagine her relationship with Regula Valeria?

4 — Is She more inclined towards the elements (sky, lightning and wind) or the concept (power, hospitality and justice) dominated by Jupiter?

5 — How does Jupiter feel about her?

6 — How do you imagine the relationship between her and Thalia?

7 — The story of her name Why did her mortal parent call her that? (Lmao Elisabeth literally means "God's oath").

P.S. Your answers to my questions were amazing!!! And oh, actually I'm thinking of making another moodboard for Jupiter & Percy. And oh, actually I'm thinking of making another moodboard for Jupiter & Percy. And about poetry... I'm really excited about this opportunity. (Absolutely no pressure!! I'm just so happy that maybe someday you'll write this)

1. Mortal mother: Kate Parker née Christon. Aviation nerd and law student, a combination that endeared her to Jupiter immediately. She was very different to beryl, firm, and level-headed, and she had a good support system. So when one thing led to another at a college grad party and she missed her period, she managed to like... not break down and panic and alcoholism. She found a small place, and had melanie. Just like a lot of her life, there was no fanfare, no godly ritual bestowed on her daughter. Just a hospital and a smiling blonde baby, and calls from her family. Her support system and the fact that Jupiter left her alone after the party probably saved her. Kate supremacy she's sweet.

2, she's 14, her favourite food is slushies (do slushies count?), and she's a dog person, having a dog called Radio

3: she feels so bad for her and also so concerned. Her favourite thing to do is tell her outside world lore like yes girl I know that you are in an arranged marriage with my brother but! Fnaf lore. Hawk tuah girl. Melanie also gives her candy all the time and teaches her about like other places. She's kinda like her tether to the outside world.

4: a bit of both. She loves planes and flying and is very aerodynamic (she does gymnastics and is a flyer in cheer) plus her whole family uses her as an emergency power bank but she also gets to positions of leadership very easily (girl scout leader, football team captain, lead violinist she's collecting them like pokemon)

5. Strong dislike because she's an annoying 14 year old and she doesn't like him because he's a horrible person to her like morally. Strong sense of justice from her that he doesn't align with. Also, she makes so many jokes at his expense, kinda a miracle she's still here. For example, whenever Jupiter complains about anything, she says "yeah becuase you're inbred." And also implies all the time that he's a creep for being like billions of years old and having a baby with a 26 year old. She also just acts like a child, makes sense because she is a child, but Jupiter is used to children being quiet and afraid (see jason) so he doesn't like her. Mutual dislike.

6: she loves all her siblings, but she loves thalia the most because thalias the closest to like a normal person. Theyre sharing music recs rn as we speak

7. Omg I literally didn't know that. I think it's because her grandma's name is Mary Elisabeth, and Kate wanted to like pay homage.

You are so good at Characters like I feel like your ideas a re wayyyy cooler. They should hire you at character places

[koizumiyuu]

Social Outcasts

Part 12

warnings: none.

The next few days pass in a similar fashion then. (name) avoids Niragi and the rest of the more easily aggravated people, instead hanging out with Kuina and sometimes Chishiya. Her arm heals enough to no longer throb with every move she makes, and Kuina even convinces her to go swim in the pool together, when it’s earlier in the day and most of the Beach members are still asleep or recovering from the previous night of never-ending party or attending games.

When Chishiya explained the plan a few days earlier, (name) was under the impression that he has every detail worked out already. Apparently, that was not the case, and as he further explained, he still needs to scout out a person who will be completing the riskiest part of the plan. Though she has a feeling he’s leaving out some details.

This morning the Beach buzzes with a new rumor. Apparently, last night the militants recruited two new players. Everyone knows it likely wasn’t by their volition, but nobody says anything, of course. That’s just how things are here. They’ll have no choice but to adapt to the life and rules at the Beach. And if they don’t, then maybe they’re not fit to survive in this world.

The new faces show up down at the pool around midday, both already forced into swimwear and looking as out of place as ever. (name) is hanging back by herself this time, lounging in one of the chairs further back in the shade as she half-heartedly sips some cocktail of juice the clearly overly-friendly bartender mixed up for her. It’s hard to not notice the newcomers, as they automatically gravitate to awkwardly stand next to each other among the chaos of people dancing and having a good time. The stiffness is not what draws (name)’s attention though. It’s the somewhat familiar sky-blue shirt. These two were the ones who completed the Tag game she and Chishiya were in. The boy with the shaggy haircut and the athletic girl. ‘So they got roped into this too, huh? Shame, the guy looked pretty smart too… just maybe a little soft.’

Evening rolls around and the party only intensifies, before eventually, the fun part begins like every night. With fanfares and loud bass thumping, most of the drunk, half-naked, and laughing Beach members make their way to the main hall in preparation for the games where Hatter soon appears in his balcony to deliver the expected motivational spiel. (name) still has days on her visa, and her unbothered attitude has somehow made it fairly easy to slide under the militants’ radar, so she’s not attending any games herself. But she still moves with the crowd, not wanting to stand out.

Her eyes find the two newcomers in the crowd fairly easily, sticking out like sore thumbs with obviously less enthusiasm and more anxiety than the rest. Then she scans the room some more, and sees who she was looking for hanging back further away with an unbothered expression like always.

She makes her way over to him just as Kuina walks up from somewhere behind too. She smiles at (name) before following Chishiya’s gaze focusing somewhere into the crowd, giving him a questioning look.

Chishiya doesn’t avert his gaze from the two as he answers her, “We were in the same game as them.”

Kuina then looks to (name) for clarification and she just nods, equally tracking them with her gaze just like Chishiya is, “Mhm. Seemed smart enough.”

Chishiya nods slowly to her statement, adding, “They might be useful. To our plan, that is.”

Kuina just raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t comment further before walking off to find her group for joining a game. (name) silently wishes her good luck before she can catch up to that stray thought.

When the crowd starts dispersing to their respective cars, or returning to the party, (name) and Chishiya both make their way out of the main hall. Over the past week or so, (name) has gotten secretly more used to handling interactions with him, so now they even hang out by themselves sometimes. Even when Kuina isn’t around.

He’s intriguing, she thinks. For most of her life, (name) has tried time and again to limit her interactions with people. She found most of them repulsive. Selfish and careless, hiding behind a false façade of politeness and respectful words, drilled into their culture from the day they’re born. And yet they can never fully hide it, the selfishness or perverseness rearing its ugly head sooner or later anyway.

But despite (name)’s original opinion of Chishiya, he isn’t like that. He has shitty humanly flaws like all of them, but he doesn’t try pretending to be perfect, hiding behind the fake politeness. He’s selfish, and manipulative, and emotionally distant, and sure, he uses deception to make people believe otherwise when it suits him for survival. But he puts little effort into trying to appear what he’s not for most of the time. Their alliance is transactional, and both of them understand it. There’s no blown-out expectations, knowing that the other party is cooperating purely out of own self-interest.

At the start, (name) compared him to a psychopath, but after interacting with him further, she’s starting to get a feeling he’s just as done with life as she is, making him like that. It’s been a long time since she’s last been intrigued by a breathing human being, usually more fascinated by a computer screen and lines of code displayed in it. Much like many things concerning Chishiya, it’s unsettling. Though understandable, in a way.

They climb the stairs slowly, and (name) pauses at her own floor. Glancing back at Chishiya, she catches his gaze looking back in a silent conversation to follow him instead. She doesn’t question it too much, sparing one glance down the hallway before catching up to him.

He doesn’t stop at his own floor either though, instead continuing on to the very top floor and starting down the hall. Realization hits that there’s only one place they could be headed from here, and she briefly wonders how she didn’t think of coming here herself.

Chishiya pushes the roof access door open, walking through first, then holding it for her before he speaks up, “It’s less irritating to watch things from up here.”

Makes sense, she thinks. He’s one for always observing what people are doing, but staying down by the pool for long enough certainly gets overwhelming. With crowds of drunk people tripping over themselves and stumbling about.

He walks to the edge of the roof, sitting down cross-legged, and (name) follows his lead, taking a seat next to him. Sure enough, the whole pool area is clearly visible from up here, and if you lean a little, the gates to the parking lot are partially visible as well.

They sit in quiet observation for a moment, the music still clear up here but not as loud, before (name) breaks the silence, “So he’s the last part? For the plan.”

Chishiya hums in thought as if he expected her to bring it up, “I think he’d do well. Kuina’s in the same game as him right now, so we’ll see what she observes, but he seems like just the right person, you saw.”

‘Just the right person…’ (name) has some idea of what in Chishiya’s eyes is ‘just right’. The boy is fairly intelligent, but he’s soft-hearted and trusting. She briefly wonders how he even made it out alive so far. (name) nods slowly, eyes absentmindedly tracking the people dancing below, “You’ll use him and then drop him, won’t you?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees one corner of Chishiya’s lips tilt up, “Observant.”

(name) hums in response, unruffled, “Yeah, I had a feeling there was more to it.”

He doesn’t offer up anything else for now, so she speaks up again, “So why him? Why not use me or Kuina?” the answer to that is fairly obvious, but she wants to hear it from him anyway.

Chishiya doesn’t miss a beat in his answer, “Because Kuina is more useful as an ally, and you would have figured me out.”

Expected answer, yet again, and she just nods in response, not really concerned even now that she knows the full details.

A couple of hours later, Kuina is back from her game, and (name) and Chishiya meet her down by the pool again, briefly discussing what happened in the game and whether or not it was difficult. Then Chishiya encourages her to go talk to the newcomers some more, smirking in his usual way as he reasons with her to ‘make friends with them, it won’t be hard for you.’ Kuina rolls her eyes, but complies, making her way over to where the two now sit on the lounge chairs by the pool.

Their interaction doesn’t last long as soon Aguni comes strolling in, followed by his gaggle of goons and Niragi loudly ordering to cut the shitty music. At least that’s one thing out of that scumbag’s mouth (name) can agree with.

She feels Chishiya tugging on her sleeve and glances back to see him shuffling further away to not be in the spotlight. Sound idea, she thinks, following.

Aguni engages the newcomer boy, prompting him about his blond friend who seemingly hasn’t been around since the Tag game, and a brief conversation follows before he orders Niragi to bring the girl over. Niragi of course complies, always eager to act on any perverse fantasy he gets a whiff of, but to everyone’s surprise, the boy stands up in her defense, despite Kuina’s loud warning to stay out of it. (name) hears Chishiya hum in interest next to her, and her thought process is about the same. ‘Ballsy…’

Thankfully, the bullying doesn’t have a chance to escalate, as drawn by the sudden lack of music, Hatter comes to the scene, breaking up the fight, sending the militants off, and calling an executive meeting. But not before inviting the new boy along as well, whose name she now learns is Arisu. Chishiya clicks his tongue in what could be taken as displeasure at being interrupted and (name) gives him a glance.

He just shakes his head faintly, “I’ll find you later.” Before walking off after the Hatter.

Next.

[dystopianvagrant]

Let the Dice Roll and the Gacha Spin

DiVi sighed as she approached the large tower-like structure in the middle of the food-court, it has been cleaned up quite a bit now no longer ruined per se but rather empty with a severe lack of shops and only a few grey faced individuals hanging around. She took a moment to ding around in the pocket of her hoodie and pull out three golden coins before looking back up at the large orb at the top of the seemingly decorative tower, the Omnipoint as she was told it was named.

"Well... let's get this over with." She murmured as she raised a hand to her temple and ran the key file that was given to her before coming here and in her vision she could see a connection between her chip and the Omnipoint connect and just like that the tower began to change, the pure black surface cracking and multicolored lights began to crawl up to the pitch orb and envelope it causing it to flash several different lights until settling on a pure white sheen and hovering just above the tower's tip. A more minor change that DiVi noticed was there now was a coin slot near the bottom of the tower along with a monitor but that was for people without the key file. DiVi already had access to all she needed and knew which worlds she had access to at the moment and now, she just needed a bit of luck.

"Three worlds, three coins." She mumbled as she saw her choices, Adventure Time, Super Mario, and Undertale. "Really bringing in the star power huh..."

With nothing left to cause her pause she shoved the three coins into the slot, one after another and hit the large red button that said spin and just like a slot machine three screens appeared on the monitor and a bevy of names began to flash by and one by one they stopped.

Toriel 'Nice, she'll be very popular'

Princess Bubblegum 'Thank god, someone who should be... not insane hopefully.'

King Bowser '....Fffffffuck, he's gonna be a problem.'

"Targets chosen, initiating scouting." A voice suddenly rung out in DiVi's head causing her to blink.

"Scouting what- wait whoa sHIT!" She called out as she was suddenly pulled off the ground and floated up and up until she was eye height with the massive white orb that glowed brighter and brighter until the light collapsed back in on itself turning it into a black void and without any fanfare the girl was tossed feet first into it and just like that she was gone, for now at least.

[stillsparkle]

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐭𝐚 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬.     her hometown of st. cloud was the kind of place where winter wasn’t a season,     it was a way of life.     backyard rinks,     frozen lakes,     snow piled high against chain-link fences.     the cold wasn’t something you braced against...    you breathed it in.     and for the marlowes,     the ice wasn’t just background.     it was the family language.     her father,     daniel marlowe,     taught chemistry at the local high school and coached hockey in the evenings.     he was practical,     soft-spoken,    with calloused hands and a mind that never wandered.     his idea of love was standing rinkside in the dead of winter with a travel mug and a stopwatch.     her mother,     ellen marlowe,     was a nurse.     patient,     calming,     the kind of woman who kept tissues in every pocket and believed in handwritten notes.     she was the first one up and the last to sit down.     always steady,     always there.     lena was the youngest.     her older brother,     nathan marlowe,     had been the hockey star of st. cloud by the time she was old enough to lace up skates.     forward,     team captain,     hometown hero.     he played with grit and bruises and a mouthguard that barely survived a season.     coaches loved him.     scouts noticed.     he had a presence.     loud,     fast,     impossible to miss.     and lena?     lena was quiet.     deliberate.     precise.     where nathan was thunder,     lena was snowfall.     no less powerful,     just quieter about it.

she didn’t chase pucks.     she chased perfection.     figure skating called to her in a different way.     she didn’t want crowds,     she wanted control.     grace.     stillness in motion.     she spent early mornings gliding across the rink before school,     practicing spins while the world was still waking up.     it wasn’t about applause.     it was about clarity.     by the time she was ten,     she had medals.     by thirteen,     she had a coach who believed she could go national.     her family backed her in full.     daniel fixed her blades in the garage,     ellen packed soup for travel meets,     and nathan,     for all his bravado,     never missed a competition.     he cheered loud and proud,     always pretending not to cry when she landed her first double axel.     they weren’t a perfect family,     but they showed up.     and for lena,     that meant everything.

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥.

a jump she’d landed a hundred times,     miscalculated by half a second.     a torn acl.     full reconstruction.     months of recovery.     months of denial.     she tried to come back,     but her body wouldn’t respond the way it used to.     the perfection was gone.     the trust was gone.     and in the end,     so was the dream.     lena walked away.     not because she wasn’t strong but because she knew when something had changed for good.     she finished high school quietly,     applied to college without fanfare,     and chose kinesiology.     if she couldn’t compete anymore,     she’d learn how to heal.     how to keep others from breaking the way she did.

grad school was a whole different kind of pressure.     early mornings turned into clinical rotations.     late nights bled into anatomy reviews and practicum hours.     she worked part-time in a student wellness center,     tutored undergrads,     and still had to skip meals to afford rent some semesters.     there were nights she fell asleep still wearing compression socks,     her laptop open on her chest.     but it was the first thing that felt like purpose again.     she didn’t need applause.     she needed answers.     to understand the pain,     the recovery,     the rebuilding.     she wanted to give someone else the chance she didn’t have.     and slowly,     class by class,     she built something solid beneath her again.     she’s now finishing her master’s in sports medicine.     her focus is injury prevention,    rehabilitation,     and athlete support.     the kind of care she wishes she’d had more of.     her research is thorough,     and fieldwork meticulous.     she’s already had professors suggest she apply for doctorate programs someday.     but for now,     she’s just trying to keep her balance.     emotionally,     physically,     financially.

but school loans don’t wait for healing.     and by her second year,     lena was underwater.     tuition.     housing.     textbooks.     groceries.     even with scholarships and three side gigs,     the numbers never lined up.     the job posting caught her eye by accident: frosthawks ice crew — now hiring.     it wasn’t glitter or trophies.     it wasn’t choreography or medals.     but it was ice.     and for lena,     that was enough.     now she clears the rink between periods,     quick and focused,     unnoticed by most...     but not by the ice.     the surface remembers her.     her body still carries the rhythm of blades on frozen ground.     it’s not about being seen anymore.     it’s about belonging.

off the ice,     lena is quiet but not timid.     she speaks softly but listens deeply.     wears fleece and hand cream and rarely talks about the past unless you ask...     and even then,     only if you’re patient.     she’s not trying to be a story.     she just wants a life that fits her again.     daniel and ellen still call on game nights.     nathan sends her clips when the frosthawks win in overtime.     they think she’s just keeping close to what she loved.     and she is.     but it’s more than that.     the rink isn’t just memory.     it’s recovery.     and even if her name isn’t on a marquee anymore,     even if her story turned out quieter than expected.     lena marlowe is still here.     on the ice.     moving forward.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

A Reminder in case SH has forgotten something important 🚨

SH is an example of a man who with fanfare and self-boasting often makes his booze campaign but never gives enough recognition to those who really deserve it, not emphasising something that he should add to his list.

Since 2021, SH has been recycling Charlie Gray's Sassenach whisky campaign photos from Mar Lodge in Aberdeenshire 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 🥃 and will continue to benefit because he still has a large collection of photographs of Charlie's work to show that never saw the light of day captured in photos and videos.

Edinburgh-based Michelle Methven Productions is handling the filming of SH's alcohol campaign for its advertising and other events. Company production, with over 25 years of experience in the industry, offers clients comprehensive production, location scouting, and management services for photography, television, and film throughout Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

However, SH always leaves something out; they aren't given enough credit for their contribution to its Sassenach campaign. Here's a case in point: Sam did not even mention them at all. Does he think people's work seems to have no merit or Does he think he is brilliant?

It's frustrating that every time he posts about his booze, Michelle Methven Production reminds him who made it possible. There are professionals behind this ad he hired to do the job. And it doesn't include Alex desperately wanting to be featured.

In essence, This is all he has to offer today! 🙄

Posted 29th April 2025

[theawkwardterrier]

Year by Year

Steggy Week 2k23, day 1 Prompt: headcanons and meta

Summary: They mark the day with their own particular observance.

Thanks to @steggyfanevents​​ for organizing!

It is not something celebrated with that mild fanfare the way that birthdays and holidays are in their house, nor like their wedding anniversary either — no gifts or dinner out or being allowed to pick the details of activity or company or entertainment for the day.

But it is also not like those other milestones of their past, the ones that crop up even though so much of the war had blurred together or taken place in ways that make memorializing specific events impossible. Still, every so often one of them might realize that this was the date Steve started boot camp and therefore the one on which they saw each other for the first time; that it has been so many years or decades since that day in a SSR lab in Brooklyn; that although they are here in the midst of an ordinary winter now, the two of them once stood on a frigid Russian battlefield on this same day so long ago and saw one another for the first time in months and knew each other to be alive. It is not even like those more easily noted commemorations, Memorial Day or Veterans Day, which are memorialized for them with more solemnity than for many of their neighbors, especially as the decades wear on and war becomes a more remote thing for so many, nor even like the more personal times of remembrance: the day that Bucky fell, and the days, as time wears on, of their friends’ passings, or the day that Steve's plane went down.

Yet it also does fade for them entirely either, blurring into normalcy among the notes on the calendar about appointments with the dentist or the elementary school's spring orchestra concert, conferences in Brussels and a spate of classmates' birthday parties.

Instead, it becomes something contained and particularly theirs. Wherever they might be on the day, whether in their own living room or a rental house on vacation or the tarmac waiting for a SHIELD plane to bring them back from some world-saving venture or the middle of a national park because they somehow foolishly agreed to chaperone the latest Scouts trip or the Stork Club just before it closes for the final time, they will find a few moments and turn to each other, clasp hands and turn in slow, swaying circles. Sometimes they will have music — they keep a turntable on hand at home even as it begins to eventually feature a cassette or CD player alongside, preferring their old 45s of Etta James or Ella Fitzgerald or Harry James — and sometimes they will only have the quiet or the crickets or the wind around them. Pressed together and without speaking, they will think of the time apart and the time together, all that they have gotten to do in the years since, the life they have built and the ways that things might have been different and the parts that they wouldn't change.

"I'm glad you came back," Peggy will say softly after a while.

"I'm glad I could," Steve will say. "I'm glad that you were here for me to come back to."

And, absorbing the feeling of the two of them together, relishing it all the more for the familiarity that they have earned, they will dance as they commemorate another year of return.