#something something that quote 'a husband or a child can be replaced but who can grow me a new brother
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usertoxicyaoi · 2 years ago
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“No, it’s okay. I don’t want a new camera.” THE EIGHTH SENSE (2023). 
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maxlarens · 5 months ago
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hehe can you recommend your favorite books and poetry💜
YES I CAN! giving people book/movie/music recommendations scratches a very specific itch in my brain. i love when people think i have good taste😭 love u forever for this anon!!!!! under the cut because i go ON AND ONNNN AND ON.
anyway. PREFACE. i love poetry, but i tend to collect it through pinterest instead of reading poetry collections. which i feel like is probably the better way of reading poetry. that being said i do have a few fave poems:
a poetry collection i have read is crush by richard siken! it's fairly easy to digest if you're new to poetry. but it's very evocative and deeply emotional for me. i love the poems snow and dirty rain, dirty valentine and litany in which certain things are crossed out.
jessica gives me a chill pill by angie sijun lou is one of my favourite poems ever. my favourite quote comes from it, 'I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else'.
this is a book? this a translation? this is kind of a play? i think it's fair to also call it poetry. antigonick by anne carson. it's a little difficult to parse but it's so worth it. my favourite line is 'a husband or a child can be replaced but who can grow me a new brother'.
this last one is not technically a poem. it's a game transcript which u should play. but it reads very much as a long poem/short story. it counts to me. anatomy by kitty horrorshow. if you're into haunted houses/body horror you'll like this. i love it very much, i think about it all the time. this is one of my many favorite lines from it: 'When a house is both hungry and awake, every room becomes a mouth.'
okay so that's poetry done. here are my favourite books:
annihilation by jeff vandermeer. if you've seen the movie (with natalie portman) and have no idea about the book i urge u to ignore the movie and read the book. it's science fiction/horror adjacent. i find the main character incredibly compelling and i love the writing style and the way vandermeer talks about nature. it's just a stunning book and has def influenced my writing even if it's not terribly obvious.
you feel it just below the ribs by jeffery cranor and janina matthewson. this is also science fiction. it's written in the world of a podcast i listen to, within the wires. i approached it with context on the world so i'm not sure how it would come across to someone with less context. regardless i think it's fantastically written. i'm not sure how to describe it other than to say i really connected with it emotionally.
the raven cycle series by maggie stiefvater. this is a young adult paranormal fantasy series. in my opinion it's not a typical YA series. rather than focusing overly on romance or love triangles it instead focuses deeply on incredibly well-rounded and multi-faceted characters, the power of friendship😭 and coming of age. romance is there but it's treated with such reverence. it's such a special series and stiefvater is a wonderful writer.
our wives under the sea by julia armfield is an exploration of grief and loss wrapped up in an abstract horror book. i can't describe how it made me feel but i think everyone should read it.
i wont get into these but also: my year of rest and relaxation by ottessa moshfegh, the hunger games series, the girls by emma cline and the grace year by kim liggett (<-i love the first 3/4s of this book. i hate the last 1/4. its worth it for the 3/4s imo).
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dollarbin · 10 months ago
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Sandy Saturdays #5:
Fairport Convention's White Dress
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Sandy Denny hated her return to Fairport Convention.
By 1974 the band had cycled through about 25 increasingly Tolkienish members in 7 years (seriously, I can think of 2 drummers, one of whom was about to be replaced, 2 bass players, 3 guitarists, a fiddler/mandolin savant and about 17 lead singers; and the only two women in that mix were the only ones without giant, hairy feet).
What's more, no one in the band understood Denny's songs, most especially her own husband; I mean just look at them; do they look like who you want backing up one of the best musicians in history?
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The husband in question, Trevor Lucas, far left, was about 7 foot 6 (unlike his band mates, he obviously was not a hobbit; rather he's like a ranger that Aragorn would ditch at first chance) and knew a few guitar chords; he figured that qualified him to be Denny's producer.
What's more, Fairport in 74 wanted to rock while Sandy wanted to sway; the other band members knew Lucas couldn't produce pancakes for the breakfast table let alone a real band, so they turned away from their long term sympathetic engineer and producer, John Wood, and hired this guy instead:
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That would be Glyn Johns, who had guided both the Beatles and the Stones to just about nowhere worthwhile, and who went on to dedicate his lousy career mostly to Eric Clapton (yuck; someone get Eric's slowhand offa my throat) and, you guessed it, Stephen Stills. Both men suck. Just look at Johns and Stills hanging out with two lesser losers:
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David Crosby, second from left, is accusing Glyn, far right, of having a fake name (seriously: Glyn?) and of eating Crosby's pastrami sandwich to boot. Glyn, in turn, is pointing out that the sandwich is clearly already in Crosby's belly. Graham Nash, standing between them, is employing some of the Nonviolent Communication Techniques he has been trying to use, unsuccessfully, on his pet ferrets. And Stephen Stills? Standing at far left, he's clearly the true pastrami thief, plus he's stolen Graham's ferrets, and is opening his mouth to dissemble about it all while (covertly) passing gas.
To make matters worse for poor Sandy, when on stage Fairport Convention still rolled out the traditional rockified British folk songs that had made them all initially famous. "Forget the perfect songs you wrote on your first four records Sandy," they told her. "We need you to sing Child Ballad Number 69: The Undertaker's Loathsome Barrow, then stand aside while we lay out assorted French dances that will insure we never have a successful record; please, learn the lyrics lass."
Here's what Sandy had to say about it all afterwards:
"If I have to sing Matty Groves one more time I'll throw myself out the window."
Her quote would be funny if she'd had the life, and the band, she deserved, and had not fallen down a set of stairs to her death just a few years later.
But there is one moment in her second tenure with the band which documents the greatness of what could have been. Dave Swarbrick was capable of writing a song worthy of her voice and he did so just once in 74 with the simple and aching, White Dress.
Check it out.
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This video is a bit of the Holy Grail for Denny freaks like me: only the first minute of footage has ever emerged. Where is the rest? Happily some guy who surely lives in his mother's basement and is wondering right now when she will tell him breakfast is ready took the time to paste on still photos over the rest of the live take so we can hear everything and see how it started.
That's drummer number three in the opening shot, and Swarbrick stands behind Denny with the mandolin, grinning away at his good luck to have her singing his song. Sandy sets aside all her angst in this performance; she fills every available space with her grace and heartache.
Did Neil Young know about Denny's performance of this song before he wrote its natural sequel, Wrecking Ball, wherein his ladyfriend dons something pretty and white before they go dancing tonight? If not, Emmylou Harris certainly knew all about Sandy and the song before she sang Shakey's version. Just listen to the similar aching sway.
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I love Harris's performance here, but I get chills seeing and listening to Denny fronting the band in 74. I get a little weepy to. Denny died four years later, 46 years ago this Spring. She should be 76 years old today, singing to her grandchildren.
At least she's still singing to us.
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ruminate88 · 5 months ago
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I’ve Not Wanted To Journal 😓 07/15/24 I’m SO irritated
had a interesting and eventful weekend. Both new and different but nostalgic and emotional…
but extra on edge and irritated today. Feeling awful. Just… idk. Why am I sooo irritated today??
This weekend I went to the older mall I use to shop at to play “Pokémon go” 😜 I only started playing the game with my husband cuz I’m trying so hard to connect with him and feel close to him. However, I haven’t shopped at that mall seriously FOR YEARS! Pretty much since I ended my friendship with Lori. 😣 Lori and I use to either hit the mall up OR the movies at least every Friday night unless we went to dinner… Lori was my BEST friend since 1st grade but in our 20’s the relationship began to feel very one-sided and her mom was becoming judgey and controlling. Always wanting to treat me like a child …. I had no choice but to remove Lori.
She was only replaced by Cody and Andrew. I also use to send Andrew snap chats when I was at this particular mall when we were “texting a lot”. Memories of that sucked too. I didn’t wanna be at that mall and yet I did because I use to enjoy shopping for fun. After Andrew and especially after covid, I don’t shop much. Pretty much never. I don’t feel comfortable spending money or getting stuff unless it’s food.
This past week I’ve been overly hungry!! I was craving lucky charms cereal 🤪 idk why that was so weird I went through two boxes worth. Haven’t ate cereal like that since I was a kid. I think I was just craving the sugar AND I have this delicious organic milk I buy it’s so good. I’m not a major milk drinker but I sure was this past week. HAH SO WEIRD!!!
anyway, I’m just wore out. Every video on TikTok is about emotional abuse. Every video on Snapchat is about quotes dealing with people who have endured emotional abuse. Doesn’t matter which app I’m on, it’s ALWAYS about emotional abuse… 😓😓😓 I can’t escape it and can’t escape the adds for “therapy” just saw one that was showing how they’ll take your health insurance to make therapy cheaper. 😭😭😭😭😭 WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?????? (I am so not comfortable to tell my family how I feel)
Lately TikTok is showing soooo many videos about “send your ex that text. Send him what’s on your mind and get it off your chest so you can sleep. Don’t be the bigger person.” 🥺😝😓 but why?? No…. I almost wish I didn’t find out about emotional abuse and I wasn’t journaling about what happened.
also 2 or 3 times this week I dreamt of Cody something I never do and woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep!!!!!!!!!
I don’t feel like I’m healing today. I feel horrible and stuck. I feel like I’ll always think of Andrew 24/7 and “miss him” aka the mask he more when he’s mirroring me. Gah I don’t wanna miss that guy Andrew treated me so terribly why would I ever trust him or go back to him??
When I text this chat gpt and ask it questions about emotional abuse and my ex, it says “you may have unfinished business or unresolved feelings” and I ask it how to resolve the feelings or what the unfinished business could be and it says to talk to a trusted friend or therapist 🥺❤️‍🩹😝😝😝😝😝 I have neither right now.
Am I really stuck or is it supposed to feel this way??? Why, Andrew? Why do I feel so tied to you all these years later? What am I missing??
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dxllhcuse · 1 year ago
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Home wrecker by MARINA
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"I broke a million hearts just for fun"
A song that honestly cause the creation of Kuroyuri, it is a song that truly defines who she is. Some people spread around rumor that she is a homewrecker due to the fact that they where envy of her beauty. With them being envy, they decided to make up a claim that she attempts to seduce her sister’s “husband” (her sister literally stole the husband), however that’s not the case.
I also have a TLDR all in the bottom just in case anyone want to know
My reason for associating this song is just how accurate the lyrics are to what Kuroyuri is dealing both human and demon life. When I listen to the song it reminds me how this character is free. She doesn’t belong to anyone and she feels satisfied if she on this high risk of affair.
“I don’t belong to anyone”
Kuroyuri in this song is her turning into a demon and finally being free of this sucky human relationship. She work in a brothel and is aware how some people don’t perceive courtesans as genuine love. She try her best to show genuine love to people,but they never return to her feelings and when someone does accept her love, she have been replaced by her own sister. Although her memories is gone due to being a demon, the experience she dealt with made her realize that she doesn’t need anyone to look for love for her. She can look for love by herself and is able to finally feel confident about herself.
“I broke a million hearts just for fun”
Kuroyuri is known to kill mostly couples,lovers or even husband/wife. She can sometimes disguised herself as a human being and also deceived other partner into being HER partner. If this is successful, she will continue to stay with them until she see them defenseless and eat them. Her most favorite organ of all time are the hearts, so she ripped them first and eat the rest. Some demon slayer sometimes want to find a reason why some demons does these actions of killing a human being. Some demon may say for survival, for muzan or for their hatred of the demon slayer corporation. Kuroyuri? She say she does it for fun (also for muzan, but that’s not the case in here lol)
She broke (ripped out their hearts and also deceive them) a million hearts, just for fun (she have no reason other than the lols)
“I guess you could say that my life's a mess, But I'm still looking pretty in this dress. I'm the image of deception”
She grew up in a place that truly don’t see her as a human being. Over the past few years of her life, they don’t the respect and love and care that any child need or just even a human being. The only person who give her genuine care is her foster mother,but her mother was killed and eaten by demon and Kuroyuri (or Sachiko) was still a newborn. Although they where a lot of trauma and struggles that Kuroyuri dealt with, as a demon she throw all of that and cover it up in her looks. You can explain to her everything about her backstory and she won’t be convinced that's her story. After all once you turned demon, your memories are gone. Deception means deceiving someone. This is what Kuroyuri does it as I explain previously. Who knows that her main image is not what even she is. She DO have a monstrous form,but disguises herself into more human.
“When everything is life and death. You may feel like there's nothing left. Instead of love and trust and laughter. What you get is happy never after, But deep down all you want is love. The pure kind we all dream of, But we cannot escape the past. So you and I will never last”
This quote is possibly the best quote I can able to describe Kuroyuri’s life. If there is ever a quote that sums up all of her life and her demon life, it’s this one. I don’t think there’s no explanation of me to tell everyone why because to me I feel like this quote is best to leave it without explanation.
Although I will say the part where “we cannot escape the past. So you and I will never last.” I will explain something. I like the fact that this also sums up her demon life and even though it is the only option for Kuroyuri, this is rather a curse to begin with. Not only demons are here killing innocent people,but it is a curse that brought upon by Muzan himself. He give his blood to other people as a way to turn into demons and Kuroyuri was one of them.
I'm not exactly sure which chapter or volume this quote stated, however this is the quote that he said to Kagaya "The heavens are not punishing me. Despite the hundreds, thousands of humans I've killed, I've been let off the hook. And I have never seen a God or Buddha over these thousand years." and this is something that is stuck to me. I like the idea how even though he wasn’t cursed by the gods/Buddha that the others around him DID get cursed. It’s pretty canon that the Ubuyashiki family got cursed due to the fact that they’re closely related to Muzan. If that’s the case then I wouldn’t be surprised to see if other demons also got cursed and Kuroyuri is one.
What is her curse? Is to never to have a soulmate.
She killed countless human and turned into a demon by using one the most powerful and evil demon’s blood. With that, her red string of fate is burned off, never to be connected with anyone. No one can be a soulmate of her due to her being a demon and the horrible things she have done. Can Kuroyuri fall in love? Well of course she can! Maybe the string will actually form more strings for her,but for now her string have been burned off.
TLDR; This song is an anthem song for her and it represents how no matter human life or demon life, she will stay miserable of love. She can prove to anyone that turning into demon was giving a second chance of life for her and gain confidence,but deep down she is still desperate for someone to give the love that she need since childhood.
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classicslesbianopinions · 3 years ago
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hey besties, can you help me find where the antigone quote "Another husband could be found and with that husband another son. But I have no mother now. I have no father. I cannot bring another brother to the world" is from?? it seems to not be sophocles but i am losing my mind trying to find the actual origin of the quote!!
JUST KIDDING u can ignore that last ask, i found it in a free online translation by R. C. Jebb as "The husband lost, another might have been found, and child from another, to replace the first-born: but, father and mother hidden with Hades, no brother's life could ever bloom for me again." i'm just now wondering what the heck the original greek is given that nothing like this exists in the fitts/fitzgerland translation i've been using
okay no so like. those lines are controversial! i think fitts/fitzgerald mentions it in their intro actually. some people say those lines are not in the original text and don't make sense there etc so they don't include them. personally i love them and i think they say a lot about antigone and her grief etc. but i can't speak to how verifiable they are except to say that i don't trust a lot of the people who edit greek texts but i don't have enough knowledge to actually disagree. and i also think, like, it doesn't matter so much what's in the original as like... what we have now. because there's no way of knowing what was ACTUALLY originally there.
BUT ANYWAY here's the original greek (from perseus, lines 905-912):
οὐ γάρ ποτ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἄν, εἰ τέκνων μήτηρ ἔφυν, οὔτ᾽ εἰ πόσις μοι κατθανὼν ἐτήκετο, βίᾳ πολιτῶν τόνδ᾽ ἂν ᾐρόμην πόνον. τίνος νόμου δὴ ταῦτα πρὸς χάριν λέγω; πόσις μὲν ἄν μοι κατθανόντος ἄλλος ἦν, καὶ παῖς ἀπ᾽ ἄλλου φωτός, εἰ τοῦδ᾽ ἤμπλακον, μητρὸς δ᾽ ἐν Ἅιδου καὶ πατρὸς κεκευθότοιν οὐκ ἔστ᾽ ἀδελφὸς ὅστις ἂν βλάστοι ποτέ.
and this is like. a very quick sight translation because i don't want to dig up my notes so if i'm wrong someone tell me but it's something like, "for never, if i'd been a mother of a child, or if my husband in death was wasting away, would i have done the work to rise up with force against the people. why, you ask, for the sake of what law, do i say this? well if my husband died, there would be another, and a child from another source (lit. light), if this one failed, but with my mother and my father hidden in hades, there is no brother who will grow for me again."
so like the rc jebb one is fairly literal from the greek! it's just that different people disagree on whether that greek is authentic to the original text. i think choosing whether or not to include it honestly says a lot about your approach to the text
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lag1995-fics · 4 years ago
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Hi!! May I request a dadneto fic of them calling each other dad and son for the first time? 🥰
Of course my love I’m a total sucker for dadneto. ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoy
Dad.
Summary: Peter didn’t need a dad and he was sure Erik didn’t want a loser like him for a son. His father had already had the perfect family and had them snatched from him. Peter like he usually is was wrong.
Warnings: Peter has low self worth and anxiety. There’s a bit of angst but nothing heart wrenching. I don’t even think I cursed this time but I might have.
Pairing: there isn’t one just some good old fashioned father, son bonding. Maybe Cherik if you squint and turn your head to the left.
Words: 1408
Masterlist
Rules
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Peter had been avoiding Erik like the plague since the older mutant had moved into the school to help with construction. Peter may be twenty seven but telling someone they missed out on twenty seven years of their child’s life wasn’t an easy thing to do. Peter knew if he couldn’t tell the man at the end of the world then it probably wasn’t going to happen.
His issue was he had already opened his fat mouth to Raven who kept trying to trap them in a room alone together. She had even gotten Charles in on it. Sure Erik had a right to know he had another child but it shouldn’t be Peter's responsibility to inform the man he had a child much less adult twins. His mother had really dropped the ball on that one.
Peter was content to just continue living his life as if everything was the same as always. He didn’t need a dad, he was a grown ass man at this point. He was afraid the information would only make Erik even more depressed. He had seen a picture of Nina in his snooping and he had determined that the tiny girl was everything he wasn’t.
She was beautiful with a tiny freckled nose and big blue eyes. She couldn’t be a loser like her big brother who up until a couple of months ago had still been living in his mother’s basement. Why would Erik want someone like him in his life much less as a son.
“Peter you’re spiraling” The professor's voice echoed through his head and Peter groaned frustrated. He pounded on his ear like he had water caught inside.
“Peter you should tell him I can be there with you if you’d like” The professor's meddling voice came again causing Peter to lose that round of Ms. Pac-Man.
“You see Professor, I would do that but I know he doesn’t want a loser basement dweller for a kid.” Peter shot back turning up his music even louder letting the voice of his generation sweep over him. David Bowie was a king and nobody could tell him otherwise.
“Peter, you aren’t a loser, you took on Apocalypse by yourself and lived to tell about it, rather loudly I might add. You also are starting a teaching position here in the fall. You are such a good kind hearted person don’t degrade yourself that way.” Charles scolded. This was an ongoing argument between the two men and it never seemed to change his mind.
“I mean, is a P.E. Teacher even a real teacher Professor?” Peter asked.
“Physical Education is a very important role in children’s lives”Charles retorted to the unconvinced twenty-something. Peter could feel the frustration bubbling up inside him. He jerked in surprise when his watch that was laying on the side table forgotten began to vibrate. He snatched it clasping it around his wrist taking deep even breaths just trying to calm down.
So he inherited more than just the x-gene from his father. He had a secondary mutation, that was just great. He would have to be even more cautious than he already was. He knew Raven would try to trigger this in front of Erik if she found out. Which she would with her brother being a freaking mind reader.
***
“I need all staff members to my office for a staff meeting” Charles' voice echoed loudly in his head. He zipped to the office finding that Charles and Erik were already there. He should have taken his time and the tension could be cut with a knife.
“Peter, how are you? I haven’t seen you around much” Erik greeted the silver haired mutant politely.
“Oh you know I’ve just been around” Peter waved him off and he could feel the professor’s eyes burning into him like Scott’s lasers.
“Peter did you know that Erik will be staying on a our new foreign language professor?” Charles asked and Peter could once again feel the frustration start to bubble up.
“Really? I thought the government gave you an island or something?” Peter asked pointedly, ignoring the professor’s smug grin.
“Well I decided that I should stay, one thing apocalypse was right about was mutants needing to stick together” Erik explained and Peter was suddenly regretting taking this job.
“Isn’t it delightful Erik is fluent in so many languages German, Russian, French, Spanish, and even Polish. Peter isn’t your mother originally from the Ukraine?” Peter wanted to glare at the older man but couldn’t...not without giving himself away at least.
“No she’s originally from Poland she moved to the Ukraine after being liberated with my ciotka” Peter bit out unknowingly feeding Erik valuable information.
“You are Jewish?” Peter wanted to run, he supposed he had Jewish blood he had known his father was Jewish.
“Romani” Peter answered shortly, trying to hint that he didn’t want to talk about it. He also wasn’t technically lying to be Jewish your mother technically had to be Jewish.
“And your last name is Maximoff?” Peter could feel the anxiety build up in his throat cursing his seventeen year old self for dropping the fact that his mother quote “knew someone who could control metal”.
Erik began staring hard at the boy taking in his features. He began to see a resemblance to Magda, his ex wife. He tried to explain it away he was probably Marya’s child, but how likely was it that Marya would give birth to a child with a mutation. He knew that Django and her husband didn’t have any mutation that he knew about.
Erik’s calculating gaze only served to push Peter that much closer to an anxiety attack. He could feel his already swift heart rate pick up even faster with his emotions. He could feel the cool metal of the watch hum and he fought the anxiety. The last thing Peter needed was to give Erik another clue. Controlling metal would be like a neon sign yelling I’m your son.
“Your mother was her name Marya or Magda?” Erik asked, still studying the nervous man. With his mother’s name all the metal in the professor’s office began to hum and vibrate. Peter began internally cussing as Erik’s eyes went wide. He started to bolt out the door but was held in place by his watch and the zipper on his jacket.
“Peter” was all Erik could say and suddenly Peter began to wonder if the professor hadn’t called the staff meeting and only let him and Erik know. That was something he should have expected from Raven not the professor. It seemed being a meddling meddler ran in their family.
“Uh yeah?” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck trying to get the metal in the room to stop vibrating.
“Your mother, her name was Magda” Erik remarked, it was a statement not a question. He couldn’t help but wish the Wanda was here with him. She had always been the smarter twin.
“Ummm yeah” he confessed. Erik’s face looked like a cross between anguish and pure joy. Anguish that he had missed so much of his child’s life and joy that he had been reunited with said child. This was Anya’s baby brother and Nina’s elder brother. Erik knew that he would protect Peter with all of his might from now on. Erik would not waste another moment.
“My son” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion as he started down his adult child. Peter went to look at Charles for help but cursed when he saw that the wheelchair bound man had excused himself without Peter or Erik noticing.
Erik staggered forward wrapping his arms around the man and Peter melted. Peter may not have needed a father but that wasn’t to say he didn’t want one. He had always craved male companionship, he had always looked forward to visiting his aunt and uncle as a child. This was different though this man was his father, something his uncle Django tried to be for him but never really could. Erik’s hug was warm and safe and strong and he suddenly felt like he was fifteen years old again.
“Dad,” he muttered, finally squeezing the older man back fighting back tears. He had thought Erik would be angry, that he would think that Peter was trying to replace Nina. Erik wasn’t angry though, Erik was relieved he had his family. His family might not be whole but at least he had part of it.
“You have my mother’s eyes” Erik informed him, as he pulled back to further examine Peter’s face. Peter had always thought that his eyes were a dull brown, he had always wished they were bright like his mother and sister’s were. He supposed this was better, if he had his grandmother's eyes that meant that a part of her lived on.
Peter knew that he needed to inform Erik of Wanda, but that could wait a few more moments. For now all Peter wanted to do was soak in his father’s acceptance and love at least for a moment
Thank you please feel free to request.
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butchhamlet · 4 years ago
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OKAY SO I GOT TO SEE SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK ANDRE DE SHIELDS KING LEAR YESTERDAY AND IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING SO HERE’S A POST ABOUT THAT
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first off here’s the shitty picture i took of the set! the entire thing was set in “a north african nation” (words theirs; in quotes because i don’t want to seem like they named a real one and i just didn’t bother to remember askdfhdskhfds) & the entire cast was people of color! i am staring at this picture thinking about how blurry it is but trust me that it was SO fucking cool... it was visibly gorgeous but also visibly crumbling which. like. foams at the mouth about the symbolism yknow
ALSO the winged thing is the throne! during intermission (which was after 3.6), some crew members took the wings off and laid them down at the back of the set like the whole thing had come apart, and when edmund entered in 5.1 he had a moment of staring out at the audience with his foot up on the top wing
the entire production went hard on drums; there was a note in the program about how the director wanted to center the african setting & also the rhythm; the trumpet herald at the end was replaced by drumming, and during the storm scenes, the drums represented the thunder! (complete with flashing lights for lightning; it was cool as fuck)
& now i’m gonna describe my beat-by-beat staging notes that i scribbled down from where i was sitting in the grass. no attempts to make this coherent bc the show was so fucking good and i just feel insane <3
 edmund came out in literal jade-colored glasses which felt like a WONDERFUL character bit
everyone in this cast was so well cast btw and not to be a lesbian but like. the lear sisters. 😳
they cut the cordelia asides in 1.1, which made it slightly harder to get a read on her but also made it slightly more startling when she said “nothing, my lord” (goneril and regan both got up to take a literal microphone from lear, while cordelia didn’t take it when he held it out and literally turned away to face the audience instead)
there were three little stools laid out for each sister to sit on & lear was so infuriated by what cordelia said that he started throwing them around (not at her but close)
and lear never looked particularly Legitimately Threatening (he looked very small, actually; idk how tall andre de shields is lmfao but he definitely looked like an old man), but cordelia flinched near-instinctively when he threw the stools, like this wasn’t the first time
WHEN LEAR LEFT NEAR THE END OF 1.1 GONERIL GOT UP AND SAT IN THE THRONE WHERE HE’D BEEN SITTING AND STAYED THERE WHILE SEEING CORDELIA OFF
she was also the only lear sister in a pantsuit 😳
on that note they were color-coded! goneril was dressed all in purple, regan was orange, and cordelia was pink; all of their households followed this (eg cornwall was orange, oswald was purple), but when cordelia came back in act four, it was in soldiers’ clothes without any pink on her
andre de shields lear was fucking incredible and is anyone surprised about that like he was so good
he did SO much yelling. man has some lungs on him. not even yelling words all the time but a lot of just flat-out yelling (which was alternately funny and distressing depending on the moment)
like in 1.4 he stumbled back in to deliver “50 of my followers at a clap?” heralded by his own flat-out scream which made everyone laugh a little. grandpappy off the shits
EDGAR CAME IN ON A SKATEBOARD WITH HEADPHONES ON AND WHEN HE STOPPED AND LIFTED UP HIS SKATEBOARD SHAKESPEARE’S FACE WAS ON THE BOTTOM
this edgar was so fucking perfect btw like. everything about him. i think he was my favorite part of the show
lear and his knights busted in playing loud music, waving guns, and drinking from beer cans (white claw? idk what it was i’m a weenie). lear was wearing the brightest orange shirt ive ever seen. kent received entry to the group by busting some sick moves to the music despite being an oldass man
the fool was SO fucking funny he interacted w the audience constantly and the entire time (even during the storm scene) he was lugging around a suitcase and a little folding stool
after “have more than thou showest” the audience started clapping and he looked at us and said “not yet”
and then proceeded to deliver the sweet and bitter fool speech as a full-on rap with the audience clapping the beats in after each line
at the end of which he said to us “good job! give yourselves a hand. the king’s mad at y’all now though” and then he turned around and lear had his gun aimed at him and AUDIBLY clicked the safety off and there was a tense second where the fool had to talk him down
GONERIL SLAPPED LEAR AFTER THE BARRENNESS CURSE
1.5 hurt because the fool was VERY clearly trying his best to cheer lear up, like, he kept glancing around for ideas and trying to joke while lear sat pathetically on his folding stool
the stage was outdoors (duh) and there were ramps on either side for the actors to come on and off into the crowd, and when edgar ran off, he sprinted down the ramp, then turned, sprinted BACK, hugged edmund HARD, and then ran off again and around the back of the stage
this was after edmund FULLY punched him in the face on “pardon me” :(
at the end of 2.1 edmund was the last one to file off stage and he turned and gave the audience the cheekiest shrug
edgar tripped and ate shit while he was absolutely tearing around the side of the stage for 2.3 and idk if it was on purpose but it felt in character AKHSDFKHDSSFH
he delivered “poor turlygod! poor tom!” like he was acting, and then looked up and went “that’s something” kind of like he’d just realized
the fool delivered his merlin speech like he was making it up on the fucking spot. “and then the realm of albion...” [PAUSE.] “will come... to great... con-fu-si-on” emphasizing the non-rhyme. same with the non-rhyme of “see’t” / “fee-eet.” then he looked at us and said, “i didn’t write it. ask the author” and scrambled offstage
in 3.3 gloucester hugged edmund! ...and edmund picked his pocket for his key
“nay, he reserved some white flowers in the crook of his elbow, half a pair of pants, and a nasty ratty baseball cap, else we’d all been shamed” (im filling in the wording i forgot but that’s near verbatim and i cackled out loud)
(he was, indeed, wearing nothing but some white flowers, a ragged pair of pants, and a nasty ratty baseball cap. and a lot of dirt/paint)
when gloucester entered during the hovel scene edgar was skittering across the floor and looked up and the whole set paused as they made EXTENDED eye contact and it hurt INTENSELY
and then edgar snatched gloucester’s flashlight and hurried to the opposite end of the stage to focus entirely and intently on warming his hands over it like a fire and he did not look in gloucester’s direction at all but he got VERY still when gloucester mentioned him
i made an AUDIBLE noise when lear stabbed the fool. like. i knew it was a possible staging but it happened so fast and so viciously that it caught me totally off guard
and edgar got the “i’ll go to bed at noon” line :(
genuinely it is hard to emphasize how perfect this edgar was. how do i kin a character but just one specific version of that character that i saw one time
(intermission happened here!)
while interrogating gloucester, cornwall was very deliberately putting on medical gloves and then he picked up a power drill and my friend and i in the audience looked at each other exactly like the fucking monkey puppet image
however. only one eye went out with the power drill. because regan took the other one out WITH HER NAILS in a fit of rage when her husband was injured. full on stuck her hand into his eye socket
goneril and edmund kissed for a LONG long moment in 4.2. long enough that oswald coughed pointedly. which did not stop or affect them
gloucester tried to pay edgar and edgar immediately turned around and chucked the payment off stage
gloucester used a cane the whole show and he dropped it off the “cliff” before he fell, and edgar swooped down and silently caught it and held it for a moment before he let it clatter to the floor
at this point he was also wearing leggings and like. three mismatched layers of flannels and jackets
lear came out in act four in a tropical dress, white face/chest paint, and a flower/fruit hat
he threw money into the crowd multiple times during his speech, including one point where he specifically leaned over the edge of the stage, motioned at the closest audience member, said, “come here,” and then threw money at them
he also mooned the guards who came to get him
and nearly hugged someone in the crowd while the guards tried to drag his half-tranquilized body away
oswald was so fucking funny for the entire play. so funny. in 1.4 he came in with goneril and pointed at lear with the air of a small child tattling to the teacher; when kent attacked him he fell on the ground whimpering;  he came in to kill gloucester a moment before lear left and ducked back into the wings FAST before creeping out again
when the guards brought lear and cordelia in, someone set out the fool’s little folding chair, and cordelia ended up sitting on it during lear’s speech :( felt very my-poor-fool-is-hanged y’know
curan from 2.1 was the captain in 5.1! so he & edmund already had a bit of a relationship established
REGAN THREW HER WINE IN GONERIL’S FACE WHILE THEY FOUGHT OVER EDMUND
edgar and edmund dueled with two swords each
AND WHEN HE WAS INJURED AND ALBANY CALLED THEM BOTH OUT. GONERIL TOOK EDMUND’S SWORD AND WENT AT ALBANY WITH IT AND NEARLY GOT HIM BEFORE RUNNING OFFSTAGE
they cut “yet edmund is beloved” which is always a cardinal sin HOWEVER when he got the news about regan and goneril edmund stabbed himself which. pain and suffering!
much like albany himself, i literally forgot about lear and cordelia because i was so enthralled by gloucester brothers duel like. i was so caught up in the agony of edgar killing edmund that i forgot the other fucking bomb that had to drop and it was like getting bricked in the face
my last note literally reads “cannot believe i forgot abt the other bomb to drop jesus christ i hate this shit ass bitch ass play it really just fucking ends like that huh fuck off”
it was the first time i’ve ever seen live shakespearean theater and it literally could not have been better and i am terminally insane now.
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thecreaturecrossroads · 2 years ago
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Jazz Bio
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Name: Jasmine Savannah "Jazz"
Race/Species: Fruitbat Vampire
Alignment: ??? Good
Voice Claim: None A the moment
Nationality/Home Country: Hispanic & European/ Secrets
Height: 5’11
Gender: Female (She/Her)
Body Type: Tall and slim but still curvy.
Hair color: Dark Brown
Eye color: Shocking Blue normally. Red when she’s angry.
Age: 29
Pets: S'more the Snowshoe cat. She sometimes helps with Jazz's art.
Likes: Pineapples, Mangoes, apples, peaches.... pretty much every kind of fruit. The beach, Cats, Her Boss, Body Surfing, clothes, warm weather, fruit smoothies, sherbets, gelatos, sorbets. Painting. Watercolor painting, and music. When she get's to say 'I am the manager'.
Dislikes: When men hit on her while she's at work. Closed in spaces. Feeling like she doesn't have a way out of a situation. The creek of wooden floorboards. The smell of hay. Bugs crawling on her.
Personality: Easily riled up, a little vain and shallow, but is very harmless. You could literally bribe her with a smoothie. She acts like your typical beach party girl without the terrible attitude. She is loyal, and generous and she mainly just wants to live a quiet life with her cat.
Back Story: Jazz will not discuss her backstory with anyone that isn't suuper close to her. She was born to a very rich couple. She was the second born of a pair of twins. Many would have think they would have had a charmed life but it was far from the truth. While her parents were very charming and polite to the public they were neglectful at best and overbearing narcissist's obsessed with perfection behind closed doors. Her older sister was the golden child. Both girls hated it and her sister tried to stick up for her whenever she could but it only did so much. At the age of 10 the two girls were kidnapped and held for ransom. Their father sent half the money. Only wanting her sister. The kidnappers didn't like that. And when radio silent. This seemed to be a wakeup call for their mother and she begged her Husband to do something. When he didn't she did. Worked with the police and FBI. After many weeks they were found in a cellar in a run down barn on a piece of land just outside of their home city. A place that had been searched before. Or was thought to be. Jazz was barely hanging onto life. Her sister was dead. To say that Jazz's life was never the same was an understatement. But a lot of it was for the better. But not all of it. She was shoved onto an aunt who couldn't have children because of course, her parents only cared about her sister. Not her. She had nothing to do with them after that. But they were forced to move because they were put into witness protection. As the kidnappers were never found and creepy letters and packages were starting to show up on their doorstep. This is when Jazz meets Candice. Who was assigned to be in charge of her protection and relocation. Candice worked with them up until she got pregnant, and then later divorced her Ex husband. At that point Jazz was assigned Rama, a Weretiger Candice had trained, as Candice's replacement. Around this time Jazz was going to school for a degree in art and working when she landed a gig doing the art for a popular children's book series. The author fell in love with Jazz's watercolor work and insisted on having her be hired. It pays well enough that with her income from her job at Puck's Scuba shop she can rent her own modest apartment and save a little for the future. She's determined not to depend on her Aunt's help even though the woman loves her like her own and jumps up to help anytime Jazz needs it.
Skills: Incredible Night-vision, Sonar, Flight, Superb hearing, the ability to turn into a full bat and a giant bat humanoid.
Position/Job: Artist. Assistant Manager of South Shores Surf and Scuba shop. Popular children's book artist.
Quotes: "Why would I suck your blood when there's a perfectly good JambaJuice a block away?" "Ug! That tangerine was over ripe!" “Can I get another round of this?
Theme Song: California Girls by the Beach boys. Despacito. Whenever Wherever by Shakira.
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knjoodles · 5 years ago
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learn to love; jungkook | 01
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pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader
genre: fluff, angst 
word count: 3K
summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.
lowercase intended
02 | 03 | 04
   “seyoung, please,”  
   being a single mother at this time in your daughter’s life? it wasn’t the best, so to speak.
  to your beautiful seven-year-old seyoung, the local supermarket was a treasure trove of goodies and tasty treats she could barely keep her hands away from. you darted your head in either direction of the breakfast aisle, following the sound of the patter of steps running away from you, just to spot seyoung slipping behind a tower of canned corn and into an ambiguous section of the store. “seyoung!” you gasped, dashing in the direction she went. catching your breath, you found her sitting in the middle of the candy aisle, toying with a bag of skittles and trying to use her small, short nails to tear open the wrapping.  
   “can you stay near me, baby? please?” you walked towards her slowly, placing your shopping basket on the floor and kneeling to meet her gaze. your mouth twitched into a smile as she shook her head in a pout, shoving the bag of candy against the floor in another attempt to open it. you reach your hand to take it from her hands when she pulls the bag towards her again, clutching it to her chest stubbornly.
   “mommy, i want this one!” she whined quietly, kicking her legs and fiddling with the corner of the bag. as you opened your mouth to say no, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d bought something for her. it’s not that raising her alone was extremely difficult — your music producing career had taken off when she’d turned four and you finally had enough money to sustain the two of you — it’s that you were unable to give her the attention and benefits she needed as a child. money that was supposed to be spent on things like an abundance of toys, bags filled with vegetables and spices to make a delicious dinner, adorable slip-ons to match her favorite dress, were all spent on paying for bills, an occasional nanny, and her private school. you weren’t begging for help, but it would be nice.
   “alright,” you sighed, the excitement of getting candy shining through her doll-like eyes. “i’ll buy you the candy, but can you promise mommy you won’t run away like that anymore?” she happily placed the bag in your hand with the guarantee of sweets, letting you drop it into your basket. looking back at her to make sure she understands, you raised your eyebrow, prompting her to nod slowly and rise from the market floor. as the two of you made your way to the cashier, she grasped your pinky, doing what she could to hold your hand. after loading all of your groceries in the back of your car, you drove her to her friend, ailee, so they could spend the rest of the warm, welcoming sunday afternoon together. before you left, she gripped your hands as tight as she could and promised you that she’d be back soon. because she knew how much mommy will miss her.
   you savored her kind words as you slipped into your car once more, running your hands over the comforting leather stitch of the wheel before pressing the gas and driving home. on your way home, you noticed your phone sitting in the cupholder vibrating as someone called you. waiting until you reached a red light, you answered the phone quickly, paying no attention to the caller id — you get random phone calls from other producers about artists you’d be working with in the future, it was something you’d gotten used to by now.
   “hey.” a deep, masculine voice mumbled on the other side of the line. you recognized it instantly.
it was your ex-husband.
   “hi, hoseok. is there something you need?” you asked, a hint of annoyance in your voice. hearing him again after three months was surreal; it reminded you of everything that’d happened with him.  
   “yeah, i was wondering if we could, uh, visit seyoung.” he muttered, obviously tense from your tone.
we. he said we.  
the word we, without you, was the reason why you’d left him.
you found them. that’s all you’d allow yourself to think about regarding him. if you let yourself go further, you may break down in the middle of the freeway.
   “ah, you mean you and yebin? of course. seyoung’s not home right now, but you guys can come and visit her at any other time.” you replied, savoring the fact you’d planned a playdate for her. hoseok and yebin were the last people you wanted to see at the moment.
  you weren't angry that he’d continued with his mistress after the two of you divorced;  you weren’t the jealous type, and frankly, you didn’t want to be with someone who threw away years of love and support for a woman who he’d known for less than six months. you missed your other half, you missed that comforting back hug after a long day at work and the affectionate ear nibbles while cuddling together. you missed the intimate moments, you missed having someone else in the house. you missed having emotional support, as well as a financial one. while hoseok seemingly frolicked with his younger, sexy girlfriend, you were in the studio all day to make sure your daughter has what she needs to have a healthy childhood without a father. and you weren’t even sure if you were doing it right.
   the idea of divorce will never be something a child can digest completely without having questions. hell, it’s not even something an adult can handle without asking questions. seyoung would often wonder out loud about why daddy was hanging out with a second mommy and why the two of you didn’t live with daddy anymore; why the two of you had to downsize and move away. embarrassingly enough, your daughter told her friends about how her parents live in separate houses, thinking it was impressive that she had two houses.  
   “great. yebin’s really been eager to see seyoung again. i think the two of them are really getting along nicely.” hoseok explained, making things worse in an attempt to break the ice.  
   “that’s great. i'm glad seyoung’s taking a liking to yebin.” oh, how you wanted to hiss that you hoped she wouldn’t replace you with yebin the way he did.  
   “you know, you’re reacting to this better than i thought you would,” he replied. bad move.
   “i don’t know how you want me to react, hoseok. maybe, it’s because i haven’t heard from you in three months.” you spat, angry that he even dared to say something like that. what did he mean? did he think you’d welcome yebin, his mistress, the woman he cheated on you with, with open arms? did he think you’d take a liking to yebin the way seyoung did? unfortunately, that’s not how infidels get treated. you two were a team, he randomly got up and joined the opposition, leaving you alone to play the game of life by yourself.
   “you’re right,” he admitted. “i should’ve called or text, but you know how my job is and—“
   “i'm sure if you had enough time to go clubbing with yebin you have enough time to spend two hours with your daughter. hoseok, i will support you in almost everything, but you need to be a part of seyoung's life — and seeing her once in a blue moon won’t leave a lasting memory of you in her childhood.”
he sighed. you could imagine him habitually rubbing his eyes with one hand before running it over his hair; he shakes his head when he doesn’t have anything left to say.  the muffled sound of a woman voice sounded from the other line, making you roll your eyes.  
   “i get what you’re saying. i... i need to go right now, but i promise we’ll come and see you guys soon. bye.” he completely shook off your conversation and it made you angry. how could he disregard something so important?
   “of course you do.” you muttered bitterly before the line went dead. fortunately for you, you’d just returned home, allowing you to frantically throw your groceries on the kitchen island and drown yourself in what sorrow he caused you.
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   it had started off like a dream. the two of you had met in your third year of college, him a business and economics major and you a music production major with a minor in audio and sound engineering. you’d bumped into each other at a banal frat party — one neither of you really wanted to be at. he began boasting about his dog back at home, making you erupt in giggles and inch closer and closer towards him as the night grew older. the two of you eventually left the crowded house together, not going to someone’s place, but rather to a local noodle bar, the midnight empty tables and sentient music a great transition from the pounding music and lack of personal space of the party. he joked about how he was never amazing at talking to people, especially women, so he was surprised that you managed to stick around with him for this long — a new record, to quote him directly. his warm aura kept you snug from the cold night, and he eventually took you home, dropping you safely to your apartment. after that night was over, you began to notice him more and more on campus, like a bright color in a mellow painting.
   one day, out of the blue, he drunkenly confessed his feelings for you. ironically enough, the same people had hosted a party in the same frat house a year later. with his intoxicated body pressed up the wall next to you and the thought that you were someone else, he moaned about how much he likes you but you never seem to pick up on his advances. the days following sprouted conversation after conversation regarding relationships, and eventually, the two of you decided to date. you felt as if you were on the top of the world, as if there was nothing stopping you anymore. after you graduated, the two of you rented an apartment together and entered the job market, taking steps together. and, three years later, you asked him to marry you. right in the middle of pasta night, while you were watching the little mermaid together.
   he named seyoung. you can remember exactly when the two of you decided on her name; when you first held seyoung in your arms and the two of you gently admired her perfection. he kissed behind your ear and whispered, “seyoung. eternal.”
   the three of you were like the three musketeers, and life was a never-ending spiral of fun. you were happy, so happy that you were afraid it would go away. it was perfect: you’d wake up to your loving husband snoring softly beside you with your baby girl giggling happily in her crib, watching the spinning sheep on her crib mobile with glee. every single day, the same cycle, but somehow, your family taught you a new feeling of happiness each day.
   you hate this part. of course, all good things come to an end. they have to, because the bad is what reminds you how lucky you are to have the good. you’d thought life was great. seyoung was a very likable toddler according to her preschool teachers, hoseok had recently gotten a promotion, and your career finally felt like it was going somewhere. you’d recently been hired at bighit, working for their new group, txt.  
   it was around twelve in the morning. you’d gotten home late because your team had finished mapped txt’s first mini-album, the dream chapter: star. pulling your coat closer to your frame as you stepped towards your door, you prayed hoseok had put seyoung to sleep. you’d told him that you’d be coming home as late as three in the morning, not knowing exactly how long it would take to decide how many songs would make it onto the album, as some potential songs were songs meant for other groups that were eventually scrapped.  
   you entered quietly, the door creaking at your attempt to open it silently. you weren’t very observant of your surroundings; truthfully, you just wanted to kiss your baby’s forehead and collapse into your bed. kicking off your shoes, you placed your bag on the coffee table, sighing before trudging towards your shared bedroom. it hit you like bricks — you weren’t paying attention to any noises, you weren’t living a cliché romance movie scene, it was completely unexpected. when you pushed open your bedroom door, a nude woman, lean and visibly younger, was rolling her hips on top of your husband’s bare form. it had taken a second to even register: what’s going on? who is she? am i dreaming? yet your silent thoughts were proven wrong as her head turned in fear to see you standing there, silhouette in the doorframe. she swung her leg over hoseok, pulling on the covers as her body fell next to him on the bed. 
  that was your spot.
  hoseok sat up, eyes wide with fear. “(y/n)… i… this-” he scrambled, thousands of excuses flying through his mind as to why he was just caught hooking up with his assistant. someone you, for one, trusted.
   you, like him, were at a loss for words. your soul felt as though someone had ripped it from your chest and slammed it to the ground, trampling on it bitterly. you turned your head, seeing your baby girl sleeping soundly in her crib. one thing remained stable while your entire world came crashing down onto you, and it was her breathing, chest rising and falling rhythmically, eyes fluttering.
  you nearly slammed the door in fury, turning and sliding down against it, trying to catch your breath. you’d never faced this type of pain before, you didn’t know what to do. there was so much to lose and so little to gain.
   your mother had always taught you to not take any shit from anyone, especially not a man. you tuned out the begs and pleads and cries for you to stay with him and stood your ground on a divorce. ‘it won’t happen again’ has proven itself to be a white lie time and time again. you’d gained custody of your child, and hoseok gained all of the freedom the world could allow. it was as if he was young again.
   it’s not that life was all bad for you after the divorce; crown, the song you’d mainly produced with the help of others became a huge hit in korea, festering hundreds of millions of views and charting #1s worldwide. your company credited you along with a couple other coworkers as the reason for txt’s success in the west. and, as txt continued to grow in popularity, so did your paycheck. you were a wildly successful single mom, fearless on the outside, getting there on the inside.
   fast forward to now: you, single mother, barely getting by mentally, struggling with things your daughter is too young to understand. your husband, living a carefree life with his young mistress, the only connection between him and his ex-wife being his child support fund. you didn’t envy him, but you envied his happiness.
trying to kill time, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth, you opened your laptop, an email from seyoung’s teacher popping into your inbox. it read,  
“ hello parents of wonderful third graders! welcome to (or welcome back to) yooseong elementary!
               my name is mr. jeon jungkook, and i have the great honor of having your kids this year. i know that the school year has only recently started, but i’d love to get to know all of you soon! attached to this email are my parent hours along with the introduction handout i gave my students on friday, just in case any of your little stars misplaced it or haven’t shown it to you yet. i’d like for you to sign it and have your child turn it in on monday to ensure that we’re all on the same page! i hope all of you are just as excited for your child’s school year as i am.
               again, if any of you need to contact me for any reason, please shoot me an email at this address! i’ll respond as soon as i can.
thank you,
mr. jeon ”
   his enthusiasm made you smile. nothing comes before seyoung’s happiness, and if seyoung has a teacher which loves his job as much as you love her, that’s all the satisfaction you need. you’re glad, and somewhat relieved, that when you’re not around, seyoung is in great hands.
   quickly writing him back and thanking him for sending the handout seyoung has yet to show you, you closed the tab, scrolling through a news article about txt’s unfinished success story, refreshing your mind on what you already knew about the boys, and chuckling at what facts they got wrong. as you continued to read through the article, an advertisement on the sidebar caught your eye. now, normally, you’re not one to pay attention to them. you’re more of the type to frown at them and spam-click the ‘x’ in the corner until it eventually vanishes. this one was different.
   an advertisement for a singles support group, offering a place for your voice to be heard, and, well, support.
   you hesitated, wondering if you’d be paired with a group of adults with more emotional issues than time per session. reminding yourself of how hoseok’s actions combined with the consistent stress of your job and raising seyoung threatens your sanity on a day to day basis, you put that voice on mute, and promptly clicked away, this time clicking on the ad instead of the ‘x’.
   after all, anything for seyoung.
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arts-and-drafts · 4 years ago
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Unexpected Delivery
(This is the start of the Big Brother AU! I made it in fic form since my hand was out of commission at the time!)
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Cleo hummed absently as she finished up the last of the DNA samples for the cloning tubes. It was routine by now; she was nearly halfway done cloning the other hermits for her zoo, the growing duplicates catatonic in their seperate tubes.
Cleo thought there was nothing wrong with her quote "questionable" science, but the other hermits seemed uncomfortable whenever she casually brought it up. Which was fine! She was sure they wouldn't mind that she didn't tell them they were being cloned this time. She'd take great care of them! It'd be a great feature of the zoo.
Cleo poured the last sample into an empty tube, having already confirmed the cells were reproducing as expected. She gave a soft smile as the tube filled with the liquid she liked to call "human fertilizer", which would help the clones grow to their correct proportions in the span of a few weeks.
Cleo removed her protective lab gear, carelessly throwing her gloves on the ground. She wasn't alive, there was no danger of hazardous disposal. And her lab was entirely Joe-proof, so not even he could mess this up. There was nothing left to do now but wait.
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Cleo started in stunned panic at the last tube. Oh no. No no no.
Instead of a recognizable hermit taking shape by now, it was a small, bean shaped fetus. Something was very very wrong.
The other clones were nearly finished, already clearly resembling Cleo's friends. But instead of a nearly fully grown adult, there was a developing BABY in the last tube.
Cleo was terrified. She had no idea what could've gone wrong. She swabbed each hermits individual bases EXACTLY so this had no chance of happening. What was she going to do?! It was too small to even see any definitive traits of who the parents could be, but even if there was, what was Cleo going to do? Just walk up to them and hand them their accidental test tube baby, sorry and good luck?
Cleo paused her panicked fidgeting. That could actually work. She did just successfully create a scientific breakthrough, accidental or not. Surely that was something no-one could be mad at. All things considered she should be very proud of herself, actually. How hard could taking care of a kid be anyway? Cleo found it relatively easy; that's why she was a teacher before she died, after all. She loved the little buggers.
Surely it would be fine. Everything would be just fine.
Cleo sat in front of the cloning tube, now an artificial womb. The soft green light from the tube shone on Cleo's thoughtful face, her eyes focused on the small little creation growing in front of her.
What a miraculous turn of events.
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Mumbo was awoken in the dead of night by something banging on the door to his hobbit hole.
He blearily looked around the bedroom, unsuccessfully trying to blink away the sleep from his eyes. He saw the light from his son's charging cord gently pulsing in the corner of the room, Grumbot still soundly resting in sleep mode. Rain battered the glass ceiling of the two-room house, the trees along the coast lashing in the monsoon-like winds.
The banging at the door came again, and Grian stirred at Mumbo's side. "Whazzit." Grian mumbled without opening his eyes. Mumbo listened intently at the knocks.
"Zombie." Mumbo realized, Grian groaning in annoyance in response. "You geddit." Grian stated, waving a hand vaguely towards the direction of the door. Mumbo sighed exaggeratedly, resigning himself. "It's raining," he complained, but was met with pointedly fake snores from his husband.
Mumbo shook his head with a small smile, pulling back the blanket to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned and stretched as he stood up, shaking out his hands before grabbing his netherite sword from the bedside chest. Zombies weren't terribly dangerous, but Mumbo doubted he could take one on without serious damage if he was sleepy.
He swung open the door to his hobbit hole, sword poised to strike, but stopped suddenly as he recognized Cleo's face staring back at him, sopping wet and holding a mess of blankets. "I guess I was right," Mumbo stammered with a small laugh, not knowing what else to say. "There was a zombie at my door."
"Very funny." Cleo scoffed, wrinkling her nose to signify no harm done. "What--it's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" Mumbo asked, sheathing his sword and yawning again.
Cleo opened her mouth, but was instantly cut off by a massive thunderclap. The mess of blankets she was holding suddenly came to life, squirming and bawling its lungs out.
Mumbo stared as Cleo frantically shushed the thing in her arms, gently rocking it back and forth. "Is that a baby?!" Mumbo gasped. "I would love to come in, if you don't mind." Cleo said dryly, purposely ignoring his question.
"O-Oh, of course--get out of this weather, goodness--" Mumbo stuttered, moving aside.
"Hold this." Cleo said distractedly, shoving the screaming bundle of soaked blankets into Mumbo's arms after he shut the door to the raging storm. Cleo shook off the water like a dog, spraying Mumbo and his nice furniture with a shower of droplets. "Ack--Cleo, come on!" Mumbo complained over the wailing of the creature in his arms.
"It's fiiine." Cleo responded, wringing out her hair over the doormat. "You can't just say 'it's fine' whenever you do something," Mumbo muttered, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He turned his attention to the bundle in his arms as Cleo peeled off her soaked striped socks.
Mumbo pulled back the top covering of the screaming heap, revealing what he'd recognized from the beginning; a small human baby, very clearly newborn.
"Is that a baby?" Mumbo looked up to see Grian, out of bed and staring at the poor thing in Mumbo's arms. "Hi Cleo. Oh hi Grian! I'm doing great, thanks for asking!" Cleo flipped her hair back from her face and glared at Grian, the avian sticking his tongue out at her in return.
"Here--can you get new blankets, Gri? These are soaked." Mumbo asked, unconsciously slipping into Dad Mode. He freed the still crying baby from the soaking bundle, unceremoniously dumping the blankets on the floor.
Cleo moved to sit her wet butt on Mumbo's nice couch as he tried to quiet the baby. "Where--where did it come from? Why the middle of the night?" Mumbo stammered, wordlessly handing the child over to Grian, who had returned with clean warm blankets. The baby was dressed in a plain leather tunic, something Grian quickly replaced for an old nightshirt of Grumbot's. It was still too big, but at least it was dry.
Cleo took a breath, clasping her hands together on her knees. Mumbo and Grian sat on the couch across from her, the baby finally quieting from ear-splitting wails to snuffled fussing. "Please explain, Cleo. Who's is it?" Mumbo pleaded, moving a hand through his hair.
"Well, ah, it came from my lab." Cleo began nervously. "Yes, I have a lab." She interjected at Mumbo's surprised look. "And uh. Well, it's yours."
Grian snapped his head up from the baby, having the same shocked-slash-confused look as Mumbo. "Wh--what? Sorry?" Mumbo stammered. "We're both boys." Grian stated stupidly. "Men. We're men." He corrected, going red.
Cleo rolled her eyes. "It's not a traditional baby, dummies. It's a test tube baby. A--an accidental one." Cleo wrung her hands awkwardly at Mumbo and Grian's faces.
"How do you make an accidental test tube baby, Cleo?!" Mumbo exclaimed. He wasn't mad, just--well, extremely confused. "Why were you making a test tube baby in the first place?!" Grian continued. Cleo held her hands up in surrender. "I--okay--I'm making a hermit zoo exhibit! And I'm cloning you! For the zoo! And uh--well, THAT happened." Cleo explained, gesturing at the small being in Grian's lap. "I individually swabbed your bases, so--I'm not really sure how it happened?" Cleo stuttered.
Mumbo stared. "Cleo. We're married. We live together." Mumbo said, holding up his hand to display the ring Grian had made him.
Cleo stared back. "Oh. Well, that would make sense." She rubbed the back of her neck self consciously. "Cleo, you came to the wedding!" Grian stated incredulously. "You were my groomsmaid!!" Cleo winced. "Right. That's right. I remember now." She said apologetically.
"I--anyways. That baby is a perfect mix of your DNA, so--I mean, technically speaking, I managed to create life without the use of traditional means, so you should be not mad, you should be impressed, really." Cleo rambled.
Mumbo opened his mouth and then closed it again. His redstone brain was truly very impressed, actually, but his parent brain took over. "So you just--gave us a baby? We have a baby now, that's it?" He asked, his voice pitching.
Grian gasped quietly next to Mumbo, pulling his attention from an increasingly nervous Cleo. Grian was staring at the baby, who had finally quieted into idle murmuring. "He has your eyes, Mumby." Grian whispered, his voice catching. Mumbo leaned over, startled to see the same shade of red as his staring back at him. "Oh," Mumbo breathed, a strange feeling coming over him.
Grian held out his finger to the baby and was immediately grasped by the tiny thing's button-sized hand, letting out a coo of endearment and peeking the smallest of smiles. The baby was a naked newborn, hardly a day old, but Mumbo was instantly struck by how much the little smile reminded him of Grian.
Mumbo finally looked away from the baby to Cleo, who brandished a smug grin. Mumbo huffed in annoyance he couldn't bring himself to feel.
"Well...he needs a name." Mumbo reluctantly stated, silently accepting the new member to the family that Cleo had brought them. Cleo grinned wider, undoubtedly coming to the same conclusion that he had.
"Jrum--wait." Grian bit on a laugh. "We can't call him Jrumbot, Grian." Mumbo corrected dryly over Cleo and Grian's giggling. "Okay, how about Junior, then?"
Mumbo wrinkled his nose. "That sounds patronizing. And cliche." He disagreed. Grian hummed in thought while their unnamed son sucked on his finger.
"Okay, how about Juni? That's got a nice ring to it," Grian suggested. Mumbo smiled. "You're just saying that because you can't think of another name than Junior." He teased, letting out a laugh when Grian shoved him in response.
"I like Juni." Cleo piped up, visibly more relaxed after knowing they wouldn't be mad at her.
Mumbo looked down at their new son again, his bright red eyes now curiously swiveling around to everything he could see. He was so young, so small and fragile, and yet Mumbo could already see so much life in him.
"Yeah." Mumbo said, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. "I like Juni too."
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kurowrites · 4 years ago
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In Agreement - Chapter 3
“It’s a little weird,” Wei Wuxian suddenly blurted one night between two sips of Emperor’s Smile.
Lan Wangji looked up from the book he had been reading and frowned. What was weird? Was there something off with the taste of Wei Wuxian’s wine today?
“It’s a little weird,” Wei Wuxian repeated. “You know.” He waved back and forth between himself and Lan Wangji, seated at opposite ends of a small table in the Jingshi. “This.”
Lan Wangji was still confused. What exactly did Wei Wuxian mean? Was there something weird about the distance between the two of them right now? They had been sitting together while reading and drinking (in Lan Wangji’s case, tea) many times already. They often did it in the evening, to unwind before they went to bed, as was the case today.
Wei Wuxian seemed to recognise his confusion and tilted his head with a smile.
“You never liked me, when we were younger,” he observed. “But now you’re like… this.”
Like what? Lan Wangji wondered. He had never disliked Wei Wuxian. He had simply–
Ah.
“You were teasing me,” Lan Wangji replied, closing his book and laying it aside. “I did not like that.”
“I just wanted you to pay attention to me!” Wei Wuxian complained. “You were always so cool and distant, and you never paid attention to anything but your studies and the teachers! How else was I supposed to get your attention?”
He stuck his lower lip out in a truly childish display of tipsy sulkiness. Only on Wei Wuxian, it looked oddly cute.
“Wei Ying is an unruly child,” Lan Wangji observed.
“How can you say such things about your own husband,” Wei Wuxian huffed. “Where do I lodge my complaints, I want a better–”
He froze and narrowed his eyes at Lan Wangji.
“Lan Zhan,” he asked slowly. “Are you teasing me?”
“Wei Ying admitted to his crimes,” Lan Wangji said.
“Crimes? I was just teasing you!”
“The rules–”
“No! Don’t you dare quote the rules at me!” Wei Wuxian emphatically waved the empty wine cup in front of Lan Wangji’s nose. “I know them! And you conveniently forgot that there are a few rules about marriage in there, too! You can’t be mean to your spouse and tease them!”
“Respect your spouse and honour them,” Lan Wangji quoted back at him. “I have always respected Wei Ying’s abilities. But Wei Ying does not respect his own abilities.”
Wei Wuxian jerked back and looked at Lan Wangji with wide eyes. Good. If Wei Wuxian gave him the opportunity to speak his mind, he would not waste the opportunity.
“Wei Ying is a skilled cultivator and a diligent worker,” Lan Wangji said. “And yet, he never takes anything seriously, including his own abilities. How am I supposed to honour my spouse, if my spouse refuses to honour himself?”
He took hold of Wei Wuxian’s still half-outstretched hand and extracted the empty wine cup from it. Then he took Wei Wuxian’s hand into his own.
“I did not always do the right thing,” Lan Wangji admitted, and shook his head. “Foolish. But Wei Ying has always been worthy of respect. And Wei Ying should demand it.”
Wei Wuxian gaped at him.
“Lan Zhan, you can’t just– you can’t–”
“I can.” He squeezed Wei Wuxian’s hand. “You said this is weird. How so? We are married. Wei Ying is my husband, and he is a good and intelligent companion. How is this weird? I enjoy spending time with Wei Ying.”
He paused for a moment for effect.
“When he is not bullying me.”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian whined.
“Have I not honoured Wei Ying ever since we have been married?” Lan Wangji asked. “I told you on our first night in the Jingshi that I had hoped for companionship. I am committed to that.”
“Yes, yes, Lan Zhan has been very honourable,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Making sure that my virtue stays absolutely untouched.”
But, after a moment of silence, he squeezed Lan Wangji’s hand back.
“I like being like this with Lan Zhan,” he confessed. “I like it when we get on well. And I worry.”
It was an unexpectedly frank confession, from someone who would only jokingly refer to himself as a good husband, but never claim that title in earnest. And it made Lan Wangji’s heart long for more. For Wei Wuxian to take actual pride in the good he did, as Lan Wangji’s husband and as a cultivator.
It made him long for more that he could allow himself, or could expect from this marriage. Wei Wuxian had not married him because he was Lan Zhan. Their marriage had always been a political arrangement, and it would behove him not to forget that.
“There is no reason to worry,” he reassured Wei Wuxian. “Wei Ying is a good husband. I have no complaints.”
Wei Wuxian smiled faintly.
“How could I not be worried?” he asked, and there was a light, teasing tone in his voice again. “They seem to have lost all sense for a while, and if I knew how, I would do it again. They got me married to the best possible husband, and I can only hope that they don’t come back to their senses one day, and decide that such a treasure is completely wasted on me.”
“I would never agree to a divorce.”
Wei Wuxian laughed.
“Lan Zhan! Don’t say such things! You will make me blush.”
It would be good if Wei Wuxian blushed, Lan Wangji thought. It would be good if Wei Wuxian truly wanted to stay with Lan Wangji. That was all that Lan Wangji wished, as well.
He noticed Wei Wuxian’s hand, still held in his own, and wondered if he could hope for it. Wei Wuxian was already here, and they shared this place. And Wei Wuxian had only once tried to establish distance between the two of them: the night when they had gotten married. The night when Lan Wangji had promised to honour Wei Wuxian’s humble, almost too humble, request.
“We should sleep,” Lan Wangji said, untangling himself from his seat without letting go of Wei Ying’s hand, pulling him up and encouraging him to get ready for bed.
It was self-serving, perhaps, but when they slept, Wei Wuxian was close to him, exactly where Lan Wangji always wanted to keep him. And right now, he wanted that reassurance. That hopefully, Wei Wuxian would always remain there. That he always wanted to remain there. Next to Lan Wangji.
Wei Wuxian went along with him easily and without complaint. Within a short while, they had lain down onto their marital bed, Wei Wuxian’s head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, his weight pressing into Lan Wangji’s side, their hands intertwined on Lan Wangji’s stomach.
They were silent for a moment, just the repetitive brushing of Wei Wuxian’s thumb against the back of Lan Wangji’s hand telling him that Wei Wuxian was still very much awake, his mind engaged.
“You want your husband to demand respect?” he eventually whispered in the dark silence.
“It is his right,” Lan Wangji observed. “No one should disrespect Wei Ying.”
“You are so devious,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “You always take the wind out of my sails. I wanted to say that Lan Zhan should thoroughly disrespect me in bed, but now I can’t joke about it because my husband is far too earnest.”
Disrespect him in–
A sudden barrage of images flashed in front of Lan Wangji’s eyes; half remembered pages of a certain book that Wei Wuxian had once snuck under his nose as a prank. The many, many times Nie Huaisang had been caught with similar prohibited objects of licentiousness.
He sucked in his breath as he saw these images now, in his imagination; the erotic beauty in the book replaced with Wei Wuxian. His robe half open, as it would be after a bath, and Lan Wangji’s hands in places heretofore forbidden to him. A curved spine and legs spread apart in ecstasy, all of Wei Wuxian’s shamelessness revealed to him.
To have Wei Wuxian’s body underneath him, wanting and open. Asking for Lan Wangji’s touch.
There were no words to describe what these images did to Lan Wangji. While Wei Wuxian was already in his arms.
Was that what Wei Wuxian had meant before? When he had referred to his own intact virtue? Would Wei Wuxian want him to do the things depicted in these books? These… intimate acts of a marital nature?
Lan Wangji would never disrespect his husband, in bed or anywhere.
What he could, however…
“I will worship him,” Lan Wangji decided, and lifted Wei Wuxian’s hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles. “Worship him, and thoroughly divest him of any of his virtue. If Wei Ying wants that.”
Wei Ying gasped and shook against him.
“Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji hummed, satisfied by Wei Wuxian’s answer.
His body had said what his mouth could not. He felt the heat of Wei Wuxian’s body against his own, suddenly more intense, and he saw the faint whitish sliver of exposed skin in the darkness, where Wei Wuxian’s night robe had fallen open and exposed his chest.
He hummed again, and closed his eyes.  
“We should sleep now.”
“Lan Zhan!”
“Don’t know how to best divest Wei Ying of his virtue yet,” he murmured into Wei Wuxian’s ear as he turned to wrap his arms around Wei Wuxian fully, to pull him closer, closer. “Have to study first. Sleep.”
Wei Wuxian made a noise not unlike a rabid cat, and Lan Wangji soothingly stroked his back, settling him solidly against his own body.
There was no hurry. Lan Wangji would make sure he did it right.  
And once Wei Wuxian knew just how good his husband would be to him, he would never even want to flirt with someone else.
Satisfied with that final thought, he let himself slip off to sleep, Wei Wuxian safely cradled in his arms.  
It might be a little weird, a small, confident voice at the back of his mind whispered. But not for much longer.
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viviane-lefay · 3 years ago
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Really!? Sure that this would be his reaction!?
(still lol @ the choice of pic, though)
Hmm, I don’t think he’d be as averse to it as is implied here - or at all, actually.
Judging from what the canonical material provides, amongst others, he actually happens to have some quite fatherly traits, and even takes pleasure associating himself with that role, as you can see here:
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That, apparently, is also the consensus amongst the fandom, given there are memes like this one:
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Even in the movie, he refers to his drones as “my babies”.
In this, he strongly reminds me of two other characters associated with science, invention & technology - i.e. Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars), and Aulë the Smith (Tolkien) - who are known not only for their brilliance, bordering on genius, and their strong innate creativity, but also, if not especially, for their associations with fatherhood (Aulë is known as the “Father of the Dwarves”, and Anakin … I don’t think this even needs a mention, does it!?) - again, a distinctive feature of said creative urge.
This seems to be quite a bit of a phenomenon with characters of this type, especially. Therefore, one could say, that, in terms of this role, they indeed do have a natural inclination and aptitude - and, I’d say, it definitely applies also for Robotnik. He certainly displays this very strongly with his machines so far.
Now, in another post of mine, where I looked a little closer into the role that these machines play for him, I came to the conclusion that they, amongst others, act as a surrogate for his actual, yet suppressed needs and desires.
(Please excuse the lengthiness of this part, but I felt it was really relevant for my argument. I tried to keep it as short as possible, though.)
It is so painfully obvious that this guy has some massive issues, stemming from past emotional neglect and negative experiences - so much, that he even rejects all things human altogether, along with his own humanity. His excessive idealization of and identification with technology, therefore, comes quite in handy as a defense mechanism in order to cope with said experiences.
Machines don’t ask much of you, they do what they are told, they are predictable, and they - above all - can’t suddenly abandon, betray, humiliate, and hurt you (which, I think, is the crux of the matter here).
Even though he might claim that his robots are everything to him, and that he doesn’t need anything and anyone else - his actions, however, prove otherwise (let alone his constant spiteful remarks on the matter, which just sound so damn bitter). We can recognize that quite clearly when he is forced into involuntary seclusion on that mushroom planet at the end.
[…] Essentially, all those objects and machines are but a substitutive gratification that he tries to use, but that never come remotely close to the real deal, let alone are ever able to replace it. In the end, he’s still a human being, along with all the human needs that go along with it - human contact and care included.
I am by no means suggesting that they do not matter (they do, being his creations, after all), but rather that they most definitely would take a back seat to a potential (human) child of his - especially if it is born to the woman that he loves - and, therefore, also happens to contain a part of her (which would enhance its position even further).
Side Note: Frankly, I absolutely can’t see this happen with any other woman, let alone him becoming physically intimate at all. If any of these - whom he doesn’t care about (no matter how pretty) - tried to do that with him, I bet all she would get from him is a frown, and being coolly, but politely sent out of the room. He just doesn’t seem the type to bother about anyone “less than” - or casual sex, for that matter.
And I think it is indeed the connection with this woman that is the crucial part here, given I see her as the single most important person for him - the love of his life & his undisputed No. 1 priority!
(which shouldn’t be all that surprising, given I think he has a similar attachment style & behaviour to his grandfather, as I discussed here)
In the light of this, even this potential child of theirs would “only” get to occupy second place - a very close one, but still a No. 2. But it’s the Morticia to his Gomez we’re talking about, so it’s fine, I guess. ;)
Even so, it still bests the machines with ease, who, in this scenario would get place 3.
Lastly, I want to highlight this little snippet of a quote from a Jim Carrey interview, which encapsulates quite nicely what I was getting at:
“… and all it really comes down to is, he wants to be special to somebody.”  [x]
The keyword here is “somebody” - which machines are not, obviously. They’re rather something, an object, which isn’t capable of emotions, or bonds based on love - and to whom a person can never be special in that particular manner.
That is indeed something truly, uniquely human, and, as such, solely reserved for those.
And what bond is more absolute, more exclusive (because no one else can take the place), and, thus, more special than that between a husband and his wife, or - to come back to the subject of this post - a parent and a child!?
So, yeah, the above bits of info about him in mind (aside from my personal interpretation), I think he’d totally dig the thought of being a dad - especially within the context of who the mother is - and I also think he’s one of the characters with the natural propensity for being quite good at it at that (something, not every fave of mine can claim *cough*Ozai*cough*).
To come back to the screenshot at the very top, I’ll concede that he might be a little shocked at first (this coming as a “bit” of a surprise), and, yes, I also think he’d be somewhat concerned (as the OP said), but, I guess, that would be more about his doubts regarding whether or not he’d be able to be a good parent, his own personal history and upbringing in mind. A little self-awareness & -criticism can’t hurt (especially with him), even if he turns out to be wrong about this particular aspect - but, as I said, he’ll do fine. ;)
Ok, so much on that subject - ‘twas fun!
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cyberdollmay · 4 years ago
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Husband and Wife
This is from 2018, but I still like it and want it on this blog. 
Fandom: Hunter X Hunter Pairing: Hisoillu Tags: Crossdressing kink, trans hisoka, anal, frottage, slight roleplay, finger sucking
Illumi tries on a gift, Hisoka discovers a kink. Miraculously nobody gets hurt.
read on ao3
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   As was usual when Hisoka asked for anything, Illumi looked back at him in blank disbelief. He stayed silent for a moment, as if waiting for Hisoka to retract the absurd request, before giving his answer. “This kimono is worth a hundred thousand jenny. I’m  not  having sex in it.” As he spoke, his haughty, emotionless mask faded away into lightly grit teeth and a furrowed brow. He crossed his arms with little regard for how the trailing sleeves would bunch up and wrinkle. “And I definitely won’t risk getting blood on it.”
   Unabashed, Hisoka continued his pitch. “Then maybe not that one...but a dress in general. Maybe some lingerie?” He put an arm around Illumi’s shoulders and pulled him into a delicate embrace as his other hand caressed his side. “I’ll let you do whatever you want with me. I might even call you mo—”
   “I tolerate your strange fantasies because you enjoy them. It doesn’t do anything for me.” His voice was cold, but he allowed Hisoka to do as he pleased. A ghost of a smile even formed on his lips as he continued, “But I can think of a few things I’ll have you do instead.”
   “And those are?”
   “Shut up. Bow to me. Possibly ‘throw your disemboweled corpse at my feet’ like you said earlier.” he put up finger quotes for the last part, rolling his eyes as if it was even slightly out of character for his boyfriend at this point.
   Hisoka took Illumi’s raised hand and put it to his lips, kissing the delicate, slender fingers. “I have a lot of emotions.”
   Illumi pulled his hand away and sighed, “If you buy the outfit, I’ll consider crossdressing for you. Deal?”
  “Deal.” He placed a kiss on Illumi’s exposed neck before letting him go. He left without another word, thankfully. Illumi could see the gears turning in his mind and almost wished he knew where this stupid fantasy was headed.  As the door slammed shut, he decided it was probably best he didn’t. Things were more fun the less he understood Hisoka anyway.
   Dark, glassy eyes scanned the array of outfits draped over the bed. Even at a single glance, he could tell they were expensive. Illumi almost laughed at the thought of how much money was set before him and how the Hunter Association was paying for Hisoka’s fetish. Hisoka himself stood back, a proud smile gracing his features as he watched Illumi pick up and examine some of the clothes.
   The first outfit was by far the most direct: an entirely black set of lingerie, what little there was of it was made of silk and intricate lace. Though the bra seemed to be the smallest possible size, Illumi was sure he lacked the biological ability to wear it, to say nothing of the heart-shaped cutout in the back half of the matching underwear. He tossed it back onto the bed with a sharp glare. “That’s the most impractical thing I’ve ever seen.”
   “I think it does its job pretty well.” Hisoka already had a hand pressed between his legs, rubbing himself over his clothes. “And it’s your color.”
   Illumi passed over the maid uniform without comment, ditto for the schoolgirl one. There was another kimono, similar to the one he’d been wearing that afternoon, black again but with shorter sleeves and a shimmering golden diamond pattern crawling up the side. “That one’s for married women, of which I’m neither.” He ran his hand lightly over it to feel the material as he looked over the rest. A backless deep blue evening gown with a slit all the way up to the hip, a corseted dress with a skirt that would barely reach his knees, and a sheer, flowy robe with a fur trim, almost too tacky to consider.
   He turned to Hisoka, who seemed to have grown bored in the scant few minutes it took for Illumi to come to a decision. “Alright. Get out.” he said, waving his hand dismissively towards the door.
   Hisoka raised an eyebrow, “That bad, huh? I thought I knew your style.” he pouted, his whole lanky frame drooping forward in exaggerated hurt. Like a child. Illumi stared at him, blinking silently until one of them decided to budge.
   ...
   Hisoka looked up, giving his best kicked-puppy expression “So are you going to throw them out or...?”
   “I’m going to get changed. Wait outside until I say you can come back in.”
   Immediately, he perked up, “Oh! Well aren’t you shy all of a sudden.”
   “I’m not— “
   “You do know I’ll just be taking it off of you anyway, right?” He finished with a wink and a flick of his tongue.
   Illumi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried,  tried , to remember why he dealt with this man. Assassins couldn’t love, but with how often he excused Hisoka’s behavior, he struggled to think of another reason.
   Thankfully for him, emotions were fleeting, fickle as the magician who stood before him. “If you think you’ll have any control tonight, think again.” Illumi said, grabbing Hisoka by the shoulders and pushing him towards the door. “Wait outside until I say you can come in or suffer the consequences.”
   Hisoka leaned back against him, though he allowed himself to be pushed. He put his head on Illumi’s shoulder and locked eyes with him, smiling and flushed. “Fuck, you can’t leave out the good part! Tell me what you’ll do, I’m already hard.”
   Illumi smiled back, “I could kill you, but I might just have you deal with this—“ he pressed a hand into Hisoka’s crotch “— alone.” With that, he pushed him out the door. Hisoka made a show of stumbling, and might have said something else had Illumi not closed the door on him.
   With that out of the way, he was free to make his choice unburdened by hopeful eyes.
  When Hisoka was allowed back in, he was treated to a similar sight to the one that brought on this new fascination. Illumi sat in front of the mirror, swathed in the dark robe of his new kimono as he put the finishing touches on his makeup. Hisoka nearly purred as he walked over. “Gorgeous. Did dear Kikyo teach you to do your makeup?” His voice was lilting and playful, completely at odds with his predatory gaze.
   Illumi scowled as he swept his hair out from his collar. “What did I say about those kinds of comments?”
   “It was a perfectly innocent question.” Hisoka said, his grin making it more than clear that it wasn’t.
  “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.” Illumi spun his chair so it was facing his impudent lover, his legs crossed primly at the knee.
  As was everything else with Hisoka, stripping was a performance. He rolled his shirt up slowly, revealing inch by inch his chiseled physique. His hands rolled down his body before stopping at the waist of his pants, teasing Illumi by rubbing himself through them one last time before they too were peeled away.
   Dark eyes drank in the sight of him like a man stranded in the desert. The rest of Illumi’s face remained still, with his makeup hiding the faint color that rose to his cheeks. Their relationship was built, it seemed, on Hisoka trying to get a reaction out of him. It wasn’t out of distaste that Illumi never provided one, simply habit. Noticing the intensity of his gaze, Hisoka took things a step further. With slender fingers he parted himself open, framing his cock perfectly between them. Illumi smiled. No teeth, just the barest quirk of his lips, but exactly what Hisoka wanted.
   “I could watch you pleasure yourself all night, but I remember there being talk of fucking me in a dress?” Illumi said, leaning on the armrest.
   Hisoka walked towards the bed, tsk-ing softly at him. “My Illumi, so demanding.” he said in a quiet sing-song.
   “It’s rude to keep your wife waiting, you know.” He expected Hisoka to approve of his word choice. What he  didn’t expect was for him to turn a color close to his hair and make an excited noise halfway between a squeal and a moan. A single puff of laughter escaped Illumi.
   Eager to please his “wife”, Hisoka lounged back on their bed. “You’re right, darling. I’m yours to do with as you wish.”
  Illumi rose to his feet, sweeping his eyes over every inch of pale skin on display. “As he wished” was a broad category. He’d be content with the soft cupid’s bow of those lips around his cock; Hisoka finally quieting down while he sucked him off. He could grab one of his needles and carve into the smooth skin of his chest, painting Hisoka with his own blood and ruining the dress. Illumi’s eyes caught on the junction between his thighs, already glistening with slick beneath his swelling cock. Hisoka would let Illumi fuck him in any hole, including one created with a knife. The idea alone made Illumi stiffen against his underwear, but it was replaced quickly by another that felt even more scandalous.
   He climbed on top of the bed, planting his knees on either side of Hisoka’s hips. Their eyes met, Hisoka’s gaze fierce and dripping with lust, his pupils blown wide with it. Illumi’s was as cool as ever as he began gently rolling his hips.
   Hisoka gasped, providing the perfect opening for Illumi to push two fingers into his mouth, preventing him from making any more noise. Though he tried, moaning and then awkwardly mumbling around the slender digits. Illumi shushed him, slowly dragging his other hand down the trail of red hair that lead to his sex. Hisoka purred, bucked his hips up against his lover to try and get some friction from the smooth silk of the robe.
   “Suck.” Illumi commanded, “And do it well. This is all we’re using.”
  He did as he was told, swirling his tongue around to ensure they were coated. With the ghost of a smile, Illumi started thrusting his fingers further into his mouth, perfectly timed with the gentle thrusts of his hips. Hisoka whined. Despite the obvious displeasure on his face, he kept sucking. Illumi’s smile only grew as he watched. If Hisoka was truly uncomfortable, he’d have put a stop to this all by now. This was only part of the show.
   Illumi felt a slight tug at his side, but when he looked over it was already too late. Hisoka’s hand was back on the bed, clutching the torn remains of the cord that used to secure the obi.
   “You just bought this,” Illumi chided, grinding harder as his robe began to fall open. “Wasn’t the whole point of this so you could fuck me in a dress?” He removed his fingers to allow Hisoka a response.
   “I didn’t want to be the only one naked-- and you’re just teasing me now. The least you can do is give me something nice to look at...” he trailed off, twirling the cord between his fingers. He looked down at it conspicuously, as if inviting Illumi to strangle him with it. No, actually, that’s exactly what he wanted. Illumi’s pulse raced as he thought about it. Leaving bruises on Hisoka’s neck, hearing his choked moans, kissing his blue lips before finally lightening his hold.
   It was tempting, but he’d already decided to be Hisoka’s loving wife for the night. Violence wasn’t what he was after. Instead, Illumi shoved his fingers back into Hisoka’s mouth. He shrugged the kimono down his shoulders, parting the middle of the robe enough to show off the lingerie he’d also put on. Hisoka gasped and illumi used that as an opportunity to bully a third finger in as well.
  With his free hand he pulled the panties to the side, allowing his cock to spring free of its lace prison. Carefully maneuvering so his pace didn’t suffer, Illumi took Hisoka between two fingers and started stroking him. Hisoka’s hips bucked up violently as he moaned around Illumi’s hand.
   Despite everything that was happening, Illumi’s voice was still perfectly even “You’re not doing anything, dear. Can you reach the drawer from there?” He spoke casually between heavy breaths, watching in delight as Hisoka blushed at the simple pet name. He could reach it perfectly fine, and needed no instructions on what to get or how to use it.
   Hisoka fumbled around the nightstand drawer for a few seconds before pulling out a sizeable dildo in a garish red color. The color didn’t matter though, as in a matter of seconds it perfectly matched his skin tone. In a flash of pink, the toy slipped into place on his mons. Not the intended use of either of his abilities, but a frequent one nonetheless. He shot Illumi a confused look, sucking at his fingers in silent question.
   Illumi pulled them out slowly, leaving a trail of drool on Hisoka’s lips. “I know, I got you all worked up for nothing. But since you have a wife for tonight I figured you’d want to fuck him properly.” He was grateful for the cutout on the back of his panties, there was nothing in the way as he pressed a single slick digit inside and began stretching himself out.
   As if he’d been looking for an opening this whole time, Hisoka sat up and grabbed Illumi’s shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. “God, I have the best wife in the world.” he said once they broke apart, his words tumbling out fast and breathy.
   “Well now you sound desper--ah!” he was cut off by Hisoka adding another finger inside him. He took Illumi’s hand away and replaced it with his own. Dextrous fingers curled and flexed against his rim, making Illumi shiver. He leaned closer into Hisoka to give him more room, sucking and nipping at his collarbones as he did. Pressed together like this, Illumi could feel Hisoka’s throat rumble as he moaned. As if to answer, he kissed him again.
   Precum beaded up from Illumi’s cock, smearing against pale skin and the trail of hair that climbed Hisoka’s body. Gold eyes flashed mischievously as Hisoka spoke, “What if I just finished you like this and fucked you after when you’re all sensitive? Bet I can get you to scream my name.” He licked his lips, “I bet I could make you cry.”
  Illumi’s cock throbbed. Hisoka smiled. Both of them could feel exactly how much he wanted him to try. Illumi kissed him again before answering, “You can’t. You wouldn’t anyway, we’re being romantic tonight. You’re in bed with an assassin and neither one of us is getting hurt— I think that’s kinky enough.”
   Instead of arguing, Hisoka added another finger. He was up to three, as many as Illumi had shoved in his mouth earlier. Illumi tensed up, gasping at the sudden intrusion. It pushed against a spot that had Illumi seeing stars.
  “I think you’re ready.” Hisoka said, stretching his fingers out to test him. He didn’t expect a response, but Illumi fought to give one anyway.
   “I— ah— yes. Please.”
   As soon as Hisoka removed his fingers, Illumi pushed himself up on his knees and guided the toy to his eager rim. He took it in easily, almost inches at a time, and let out a soft, content noise when he reached the base.
   Hisoka could practically feel the tight warmth around him as he watched. His eyes drifted up and down Illumi’s body, drinking in the sight like he’d never see it again. The kimono hung open like a robe, framing Illumi’s pale frame in its elegant darkness. His eyes were half-closed, unfocused and brimming with need. His cock bounced when Hisoka bucked up into him. What he wouldn’t give for a view from the back, to see himself thrusting again and again into Illumi’s tight ass.
  “Tell me...” Illumi murmured, hands on Hisoka’s chest to push him back down. When he was laying flat, he continued, his voice breathy and low “Is this what you were hoping for when you saw me in that dress?”
  It felt like his whole body was aflame, the answer was obvious. “It’s better.” Hisoka said, voice hitching in pleasure on the end. “Fuck, this is so much better.” His hands found Illumi’s waist, thumbs tracing small circles in the hollows of his hipbones.
   Illumi made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan, “Anything for my dear husband.” he said, reaching down to stroke Hisoka’s face. Those words alone made Hisoka realize how close he was to his climax. He pressed his thighs together, trying to stave it off, but it only took a few more moments for him to reach the edge. A warm, electric feeling took hold of him, making him shiver with it from head to toe.
   Their eyes met and Illumi stopped moving entirely, stunned by the sudden intimacy of it all. A different warmth, separate from arousal bloomed in his chest. Hisoka smiled fondly up at him. Neither said anything. The moment lasted for just that, a moment, before Illumi started rutting against him again. Harder, faster, chasing his own bliss now that Hisoka had had his.
   He came with a sigh. His cock throbbed as he hilted Hisoka one last time, spilling onto Hisoka’s stomach and the pooling fabric of his own dress.
   Neither were sure how much longer they stayed like that, catching their breath, taking each other in as their thoughts reassembled themselves. Hisoka was the first to speak afterwards though, “If you stay like that any longer, my legs are gonna fall asleep.”
   Illumi rolled his eyes, smiling, as he removed himself. He peeled the kimono off and tossed it in a pile on the floor. As he reached back to remove the bra, Hisoka hugged him from behind, pulling Illumi back onto the bed. “So... How did you like being my wife?” Illumi could  hear  the smirk he had on.
   “The idea to stab you and continue on as normal came up a few times. But I won’t lie...it was alright.”
   “You  loved  it.”
   “Just because I got off doing it doesn’t mean I’m going to cross-dress for you all the time. This was a favor.”
  But Hisoka couldn’t be convinced. He nestled into the back of Illumi’s neck, pulling aside his hair to leave kisses at the nape. “Whatever you say.”
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avengerthewarrior · 4 years ago
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The Wish Theories
So we all know of the famous “wish” that might happen, may it be Gabriel or even on of our lovely hero’s who make it. Well I bring you some theories for Gabriel's wish, or more say who would be involved in it.
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First the main one we all think of when it comes to who would be involved (read: sacrificed) for Hawkdads wish. Nathalie. I am not really gonna go into much detail for her, considering we all think (pretty much know) that she would be the first thought for taking Emilie’s place. 
If you don’t know much about the possibility of Nathalie being used for the wish, read the next points. If you do, and don’t want to read my take just skip to the part after Nathalie’s. 
Current holder of the Peacock miraculous
Main candidate for a trade, Duusu’s brooch was fixed therefore Nathalie might start getting better
Due to her having the possibility of getting better from her current sickness, it would make sense for her to take place of the Emilie. After all, she cheated the system with her brooch getting fixed. 
Basically summed up point for Nathalie, she was sick, got healed and can use the brooch. If the wish is made, Emilie would essentially be using Nathalie’s miraculous healing as her own and making her (Nathalie) sick again. 
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Next I bring you the parental take on the wish. Now, I’ll be the devils advocate and say that even if he doesn’t act like it Gabriel is still Adrien’s dad. I believe if Gabriel isn’t careful on how he words the wish, he can possibility end up making the wish and sacrificing himself, and here is why.
First and foremost, he is Adrien’s parent. It is highly likely that the wish might end up taking away the other parent in return for the first to live. 
 As twisted as Gabriel is, he still does his twisted things for the thought of bringing back Emilie for them. (Granted this can be fought DUE TO HIM USING HIS SON AS A BASEBALL)
Basically, not much to say this one is a long shot so summed up one parent gets traded for the other.
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We just went over the miraculous and parental possibilities, I present to you the familia possibility. More so the twin, Amelie. To be honest, I actually think this is a good possibility after Nathalie. It definitely makes more sense then Gabriel, but I still put that point out there anyway. 
First and foremost, she is Emilie’s twin. There is nothing, and I mean nothing like a bond from a set of multiples. (I am a triplet, I can’t stress enough that a multiple bond is something I can’t even put into words)
If the universe really wants to say f u and replace her, Amelie would make the most sense. I mean hell, they literally are identical twins. 
I would also like to point out that she is a mom, to Felix none the less. Who also happens to look a lot like Adrien just in case you didn’t know. (Everyone knows that shut up Hailey)
Also could you imagine if Gabriel took away Amelie from Felix? Like he would totally use his snatching abilities and steal the miraculous from Gabriel just to kick his ass. I mean Timetagger said that Gabriel isn’t the future hawkmoth... just saying
Basically, universe could snatch up Amelie due to her being Emilie’s other half in the world, basically has the same life (minus the death of her husband so that’s a point against this theory), and she is a mom as well.
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I bring you my final theory, the more outlandish theory but actually makes sense (in a way, but here me out). I bring you the mother figure, at least I believe more in Adrien’s eye’s, Sabine. Now now before you cornobble me I request that you hear me out. I prefer not getting smacked by fishes. 
I know that Nathalie is a mother figure, but I also think Adrien will also grow to see her as a Mother in his life. Cause it’s Sabine and she is a great mom™.
I also will throw out that she is Marinette’s mom (Snapes voice: obviously). What I mean is that since Adrien is the current wielder of the cat miraculous, who’s to say that it wouldn’t be a fair trade to take the mother of the Ladybug miraculous. As they are meant to bring balance to each other.
She is also a mother to one child, with a loving husband. Now I don’t know how Gabriel treated Emilie, nor am I using his possible love and devotion for his wife as an excuse for what he has done. But Tom would fight to protect his family, I mean we have all seen him with a rolling pin and whew I don’t want to be on the other side of that. 
So in summary, mother for mother, ladybug and cat miraculous coming into play cause the universe requires balance. (okay Thanos) 
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So that’s all I got with my random Theories, thought it was interesting and wanted to put it out there. If you have any thoughts or theories please add on! I would love to read what y’all think on what I have put. Y’all can agree or disagree, I just wanted to throw those out there for people to think about.
Also! Thank you for 16 followers and the support on my incorrect quote posts I have been making! I appreciate all of y’all so much! 
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fictional-downey · 5 years ago
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Happy Birthday, Tony
“…and I love Daddy three thousand. Always.” Morgan finished her nightly ritual before Pepper leaned down to kiss her daughter’s forehead.
“And Mommy?” Pepper asked, her tone sweet.
Morgan smiled. “That’s a secret.”
Pepper feigned surprise. “Oh, I see.”
“But it’s a lot,” Morgan added in a whisper.
Pepper smiled and smoothed out the covers before caressing Morgan’s cheek. “Good night, Baby.”
The little girl yawned, exhausted. “Night, Mommy.”
Pepper left her daughter’s room and went straight to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She hadn’t had a decent night's sleep since…well, since Tony stopped sleeping beside her. She mindlessly shuffled through paperwork on the kitchen table, then swore when she knocked her cup over, tea seeping into her agenda notes for the next morning’s teleconference.
“Shit.” She hurried to try and clean her spill, but froze when she lifted one of the papers only to find another with Tony’s bright blue signature at the bottom of it. “Shit,” she repeated, her voice changing. “Shit, shit, shit…” Her voice broke completely as she wept for the first time in weeks. She was grateful Morgan was asleep.
She barely paid attention during the next morning’s meeting and was so thankful she remembered to shut off the video feed; her eyes were red and her hair was in knots. She slept on the couch the night before - the thought of her bed far too lonely.
She wasn’t able to snap out of her zombie-like state until Happy appeared in her doorway, concern in his kind eyes. “Hey, Pepper.”
“Uh, Happy, hi…I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” She tried to smile.
He slowly walked toward her, signing for her to stay seated on the couch. “Well, I left Morgan with Uncle Rhodey for a little while.”
“Is everything all right?”
Happy shook his head. “I was told, and I quote, ‘Mommy had the shits last night and she’s sad today.’”
Pepper’s eyes went wide. “What?” She put her head in her hands. “Of course she snuck out of bed…”
“Pep…”
“I spilled my tea and then…Happy, it was just his signature and…”
Happy sat next to her and rubbed her back for a moment. “It’s okay.”
Pepper frowned. “It’s not. Happy, if things don’t work and he’s really…”
“Hey, huh uh. We agreed that we have to live like things aren’t going to work. Doctor Cho made it very clear that there are absolutely no guarantees and as far as everyone else is concerned he’s sharing his parents’ crypt.”
“I lied to him, Happy…I told him he could rest and…”
Happy smiled. “And if he knew there was even a chance he didn’t have to leave you and that little girl and we didn’t take it…”
“I know,” she sighed and her tears fell. Happy was one of the select few who was allowed behind her wall of feigned confidence. “Is Morgan all right?”
“She insisted on a cheeseburger again today,” he began. “Maybe I made a mistake saying what I did about those…but she runs around enough, so no worries about her taking after me.” He laughed, but Pepper was silent. Being as gentle as he could, he took her hand and felt his heart drop as the diamond he’d carried for so long caught the light. “Morgan is okay, Pepper. She’s more worried about you than anything. She’s…well, she’s part Tony, so fooling her isn’t easy. She knows you’re having a tough time and that you’re ‘pretending’ that you’re okay.”
“She said that?” The words caught in Pepper’s throat. Happy nodded. “I’m failing…”
“You’ve never failed at a thing,” Happy corrected. “Who the hell has ever had to go through something like this? Nobody. Ever. You are doing all you can and you’re allowed to be sad, Pep, even in front of Morgan.”
Pepper’s next words shook, all of her confidence a distant memory. “I’m afraid I’ll let something slip. She can’t know there’s any possibility, Happy. We’ve been over this a thousand times.” She got up from her place on the couch, her sadness replaced with anger. “We weren’t allowed to be! She deserves him! I deserve him!” She picked up a glass from the coffee table and threw it, but Happy didn’t flinch as it shattered. He’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. “And now, this chance is just dangling in front of me - in front of us - and it’s worse than watching him…his…light…leave him… Was it a mistake? Are we toying with fate? Are we…” She broke down in sobs and fell to her knees. She felt Happy’s arms around her within seconds. “I’m sorry,” she cried.
“I have the same thoughts every minute of every day. He saved the universe, we had to try and save him…and if we lose him all over again, then we can throw glasses together.” He kissed the top of Pepper’s head and he felt her relax in his embrace.
Nine more days passed and Pepper was more honest with her little girl. She let a few tears fall every now and then and she told Morgan stories that made her daughter smile, but her own heart broke over and over again. This night’s particular bedtime story involved the evening where Pepper found Tony “stuck” in his gantry. While Morgan howled with laughter, Pepper cried…and Morgan understood.
“Mommy, we can have a sleepover,” Morgan offered.
Through watery eyes, Pepper smiled. “I would love that, Baby.” Pepper settled herself under the covers of Morgan’s bed and reveled in a comforting sense of peace as her daughter cuddled against her. Both drifted asleep in moments.
Morgan felt strange as her eyes shot open. She squinted in the dark, looking for something unknown, but finding nothing. “Oh,” she whispered and she carefully crawled out of bed, making sure she didn’t disturb her mother. She smiled as she tip-toed down the stairs and giggled while she carefully pulled a chair in front of the refrigerator. After she reached the freezer and pulled out a juice pop, she went into her father’s study - now partially Pepper’s office - and looked at the calendar on the wall. “It’s tomorrow now,” she whispered. “FRIDAY, is it time?”
Pepper heard a distinct noise in her dream…a persistent tone that would stop for a moment, only to start again. For the first time, she was dreaming of Tony, of holding him again and feeling his lips against hers…but that sound pulled him away from her. Silent screams filled her lungs…then she woke. It took her a moment to realize where she was, then she understood the noise - her cell phone was down the hall on her nightstand. She shifted, thinking she may wake Morgan, but her daughter wasn’t there. The clock on the nightstand read three A.M. and suddenly, she panicked. Morgan not in bed, her phone ringing… She ran down the hall and grabbed the phone without looking at the screen. “Morgan?” she panicked.
“I’m here, Mommy,” Morgan said from the doorway, her face stained from the purple juice pop.
“Pepper, it’s Helen,” came a voice from the tiny speaker. “I know how late it is…”
Pepper’s heart sank immediately and she sat on the edge of the bed. “…no…” Her eyes watered.
“Pepper, his brain activity spiked. His other vitals have been strong for days, but you told me not to call unless…”
“Daddy’s waking up for his birthday,” Morgan proclaimed, her smile wide. “It’s his birthday, Mommy, remember?”
Pepper’s mouth hung open and her voice was gone - she didn’t register her daughter’s words at all. She couldn’t speak and struggled to breathe. When the moment passed, she only managed one word. “Tony?”
Helen understood that the woman on the other end was not prepared for this conversation. “Pepper, I know the hour, but I suggest…”
Snapping out of her haze, Pepper interrupted. “We’ll be right there.” She looked to her daughter. “Morgan, honey?”
“I knew he’d wake up,” Morgan said, sounding almost ashamed. “I didn’t think…”
“It’s all right, Baby. We have to go, okay?”
“Uh huh.”
Frantically calling Happy and Rhodey on the way, Pepper drove to a very unassuming building only a few miles from the lake. She carried Morgan on her hip as she swiped a security badge and a large, steel door opened. She felt Morgan shudder just a little as cool air brushed their faces.
“It’s okay,” Pepper said in a rushed whisper.
“I know,” Morgan smiled.
Sterile, white walls with a few high security keypads were passed in a blur as Pepper made her way to the room she’d stepped into weeks ago. As she approached the door, she registered hurried footsteps behind her. She didn’t need to turn her head to know who it was.
“Pep!” Rhodey called.
“Can’t…believe…you beat me,” Happy panted from further down the hallway.
A guard took a blood sample from the three of them - a small machine scanning and verifying it - before letting them in; this was a security measure Pepper insisted upon when she arranged all of this. They stepped through the threshold into another room, this one much more “homey” than the last. Plush couches and pictures of “family” filled this room…the room meant for one of only two kinds of news. The only door between their makeshift family and the man behind it was the most daunting piece of construction any of them ever encountered. They sat silent as they waited.
“He talked to me,” Morgan said, breaking the silence. She was sitting on Rhodey’s lap - he and Happy looked confused, Pepper looked lost. “In my dreams,” she added. “Just the last two nights…but he did. And FRIDAY knew too.”
“FRIDAY?” Pepper asked. “Honey, she’s been offline since…”
Morgan smiled. “She woke up first. Daddy asked me to press a button, so I…I snuck downstairs and I did. FRIDAY was happy and…”
Pepper shook her head. “Morgan, honey…” She was going to tell her daughter that none of that was possible, that she just experienced vivid dreams…but she stopped. Her husband sacrificed himself due to the mad ideas of a purple being from another world and she personally knew a god and a talking raccoon…how was it so hard to believe that Tony found his way to his daughter? “…why didn’t you tell me?”
Morgan looked sad now. “Daddy said he was gonna try…and not to tell ‘case it didn’t work.”
It made sense. If “it” didn’t work, with time, a child would be able to forget and treat it all like a fading dream. An adult would be cursed with an eternity of “what ifs.”
Pepper smiled at their child. “You did a very good job, sweetheart.”
The door opened and Helen walked into the room, a smile on her tired face. “I don’t understand it as well as I’d like,” she began, “but over the past few days, things changed. First he breathed on his own, then his cranial activity…” She massaged her temples. “I didn’t want to tell you before, but I never thought he’d truly…”
“Daddy,” Morgan whispered. She got off of Rhodey’s lap and rushed toward the door.
“Morgan, no!” Pepper shouted, getting up and going after her daughter. She wasn’t quick enough and the little girl entered her father’s room.
Soft light made the room almost welcoming. The walls were painted a shade of blue that made Morgan think of the sky just after a storm rolled away - a color she knew her father loved. Contrary to Pepper’s fear, Tony was not in the cradle, but a bed of the hospital variety, only a few monitors attached to him. The right side of his face showed red scars and his right arm was hidden beneath bandages, but he was there. A monitor beeped along with his heart, his chest rose and fell…
Morgan approached his bedside with only hope in her heart; Pepper froze - for a slight instance - in fear. “Daddy,” Morgan said, in a soft, sure tone. She circled the bed and went to his left side, understanding even though she never saw him after that terrible snap. Not wanting to hurt him by climbing on the bed to kiss his cheek, Pepper watched as she took his hand with both of hers and kissed it. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”
Tears filled Pepper’s eyes. It was Tony’s birthday. The date that she’d been dreading for weeks…and she’d forgotten? No, no, she was sure she glanced at that calendar and cried only yesterday…and Morgan said it before they left, hadn’t she? Pepper couldn’t remember those frantic seconds.
“Morgoona…” It was soft and stressed, but it was Tony. Pepper ran to her husband’s side, his closest friends right behind her. She sobbed as his eyes opened and focused on his daughter. “I saw you.”
Morgan smiled. “I saw you too, Daddy. I did what you said.”
His next words were slow. “Yes…you did…Little Miss.” He looked to Pepper and tried his best to smile. “That’s enough…rest. I’m good.” His voice strengthened and he looked to Rhodey. “No more suits for me, and nobody else knows…save for The Kid.” He then reached up with his left arm and touched Pepper’s face. “Thank you, Pep. You didn’t…you didn’t let me go. I love you.”
“I love you, Tony. I didn’t know if it would work, I didn’t want to mess with…”
“Shh…stop, honey. I’m here, I’m staying until you get sick of me - then I’ll stay after that.”
“Your birthday kinda has a new meaning now, Tony,” Happy smiled.
Tears fell from Tony’s eyes. The void he’d been in floating in for weeks on end was gone. Something gave him yet another chance at living the only life he desired. He was through with fighting for good and done worrying about what so many others were there to take care of. He was truly able to rest now.
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