#still miserable thinking about our loss

[jeongtokkie]

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz would’ve been one year old today ㅠㅠ

[islamqazal]

Hello, my name is Mohammed Nihad Ghazal from North Gaza. I have ambitions, dreams and a love for life like any young man in the world. I am supporting my family of 15 after my father was martyred in the cursed war that destroyed everything, but it seems that I will not be able to achieve my dream because of the brutal war on the Gaza Strip, which completely destroyed our home, and despite the harsh war, we did not leave North Gaza under inhumane conditions. We have suffered from illness, cold, hunger and drinking polluted water for more than 11 months, which we have suffered greatly from the loss of friends and relatives who were killed in the war for 330 days. I am appealing to you, the global community, for help. I have started a GoFundMe campaign with the goal of raising $20,000 to enable me and my family to find safety in Egypt. Evacuation fees change from time to time; we currently expect a cost of between $4,000 and $5,000 per person. Any additional funds generated will go to support my immediate needs and those of my family. There are many obstacles that we will face on the other side, and I hope that we can make things a little easier for us. I would like to share with you the situation now that the war has intensified. We are fine and safe, but life has become very difficult now around us, and people are suffering more and losing their loved ones every day. As a family, we have literally lost everything we own, our homes, ourhttps://gofund.me/f3e7e3c2 Hey there! I’m reaching out because my family and I are in a really tough spot, and any contribution you can make towards our evacuation from Gaza would mean the world to us—each donation brings us closer to safety and a fresh start. If you could click the link below to help or share it with others who might want to support us, it would make such a difference in our lives. Thank you for being so compassionate during this challenging time!

businesses, and we lost the dearest thing to us, my father, but we are trying to stay optimistic by thinking about evacuating and we heard good news today that the borders may open soon. We pray that this is true. Once we are evacuated, we will try hard to rebuild a small part of what we lost in Gaza. If we can achieve our ultimate goal, we will have the money to start a business to support our entire family. We want to be able to start over and not suffer anymore in Egypt. If everyone can help us with a small donation to achieve our ultimate goal, we will be able to rebuild our lives after everything was destroyed. All the positive words cannot express how generous you are in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza. Please continue to support the just cause in the world either by donating directly or by sharing the link to other media. Do not hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

https://gofund.me/f3e7e3c2 Hey there! I’m reaching out because my family and I are in a really tough spot, and any contribution you can make towards our evacuation from Gaza would mean the world to us—each donation brings us closer to safety and a fresh start. If you could click the link below to help or share it with others who might want to support us, it would make such a difference in our lives. Thank you for being so compassionate during this challenging time!

[ellecdc]

Hi!! I saw your requests were open and I’d love to take a shot with one!

So I have a partner that I’ve been with for almost a year and it wasn’t until the last few months that I’ve realized how toxic and horrible the relationship is. So- I was hoping that I could request a poly!marauders x reader (starting platonic and then romantic?) and reader has a partner that’s really toxic and the boys help the reader figure out how to break up and take care of herself (or themself/himself!) and then once the reader and the partner break up, the marauders take care of reader and then eventually admitting their love to reader and etc etc etc you take away the rest!!! Thank you so much!!!!!! I love love love your work!!!!!!

ok first of all: if you haven't already, please dump them? they're not worth it babes. if it costs you your peace - it's too expensive thank you for your request; hope you love it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: brief mention of previously toxic relationship, grief over end of relationship

You knew this was for the best, but it didn't make it any less painful.

It'd been about a month and a half since you and your...ex broke up, and exactly 12 days to the minute of no contact. Your mind was still reeling from the previous few weeks since you'd decided to finally end things before you finally blocked their number.

It proved to you that you had done the right thing; they were not good for you, and they're behaviour only proved that.

So why did you still feel so incredibly wrong?

You felt a mixture of things. Overwhelming grief at not only the loss of someone that was a huge part of your life, but also grief over the loss of everything you ever hoped your life would be with that person.

You also felt guilty; guilty for ending things (even though it was the right thing to do), guilty for spending so long trying to force a relationship that wasn't meant to last, and guilty for falling in love with the potential that someone had - which only left both of you disappointed.

It was probably overkill to have turned your phone off completely, but after blocking their number, you couldn't help but jump every time your phone went off - thinking, hoping, dreading that it might be your ex. You also couldn't handle scrolling through instagram to see all of your other friends, happy, smiling, in love, and not feeling like their world was falling to pieces.

Your pity party was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. You were considering ignoring it when a less gentle knock followed which you recognized to be Sirius'.

"You don't have to bang, Sirius." You could hear James chide quietly as you unlocked and swung the door open.

The somewhat terse conversation ended abruptly as the three figures beamed at you: James widely, Remus kindly, and Sirius cheekily.

"Well hello, gorgeous!" Sirius cheered at you as he pulled you into a quick embrace.

"Uh, hi!" You said back, though your voice sounded higher than usual. When was the last time you'd used it?

"Mind if we come in?" Remus asked gently before James and Sirius were shouldering their ways into your apartment anyway.

"Uhm, yeah. Sure." You said as you followed them in.

James pulled you into his side as Sirius made himself at home on your couch and Remus sat at your kitchen table. "How've you been, sweetheart?" He asked.

You blushed at the nickname and ducked your chin to your chest. "I'm alright, James. How have you guys been?"

"Miserable." Sirius answered immediately. "Completely miserable without our favourite girl around. It's been too long."

"You don't have to apologize," Remus interjected as you began to defend yourself. "We just wanted to check in, that's all."

You smiled at the three boys, suddenly very self-conscious of your apartment and your outfit - neither of which had been tidied nor changed in the last few days.

"Come sit with me." Sirius said as he patted the couch beside him and then opened his arm for you to sit under.

You moved towards him obediently and he quickly pulled you in tight to his side and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"So, what can we do? Can I help you tidy?" Remus asked enthusiastically.

You immediately shook your head no as your eyes widened in horror. "Absolutely not, no. Thank you, but honestly, I'm fine."

Sirius groaned as he leaned to whisper into your ear conspiratorially, you startled and turned to face him, only to have your noses centimetres apart.

"Listen, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: Rem here has been just sick with worry, and it would really make him feel better if you let him feel like he's helping you." He stage whispered as he motioned toward the said worried boy with his head.

Had you not been so shocked by the lack of distance between you and Sirius, you may have seen Remus gently roll his eyes at Sirius' theatrics.

"Help the poor sod out, give him something to do." He encouraged you with a salacious wink.

"I, uhm... I guess I've been meaning to catch up on the dishes?" You stated as a question, grimacing at the days worth of dishes in your sink.

Remus jumped up happily throwing a "Got it!" over his shoulder.

"What about me, gorgeous? Anything I can do? Maybe laundry?" James asked eagerly.

"You are not doing my laundry, James." You answered bluntly.

"Got it, got it. Okay, maybe I can clean your bathroom?"

Somehow, that was worse.

"Okay, you can do my laundry." You acquiesced.

James whooped, actually whooped, like a cartoon character before he started down the hallway he knew lead to your bedroom.

"See? Look how happy you made them." Sirius said as he kneaded at the flesh of your thigh with his hand.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your job?" You asked.

You suddenly felt like it was the wrong question when Sirius' grin grew exponentially. "Oh, I get to sit here with my favourite girl."

"We're taking turns, Pads!" James called from down the hallway.

"Semantics." Sirius muttered before he turned his attention back to you.

"Listen; I won't make you talk about this if you don't want to, but I need you to know that we're here for you, alright? Like really, really here for you; whatever you need. I know you've probably convinced yourself that you're all alone and unloved. But we need you to know that's not true. You're not unloved, never could be; not with us around."

Your sinuses filled painfully behind your eyes as you moved to hide your face into Sirius' shoulder.

"What did you do?" Remus asked Sirius, sounding (gently) horrified.

"Just told her we loved her."

James came out of your room at Remus' concerned tones. "We're supposed to be making her feel better, Pads." He sighed.

"You are." You muttered from your place in Sirius' shoulder.

It was true; you had convinced yourself you were all alone and completely unloveable. If even your ex couldn't manage to love you, how would anyone else?

But with Sirius' arms around your shoulder and his lips pressed into your hair, James coming up behind you two and giving your hand a comforting squeeze, and Remus running to put a pot of tea on for the lot of you like that might be what stitches your heart back together; you certainly felt loved.

[kurok666]

Haunted Logan x Reader

Authors note : ok ok I know it’s been a few years but I just saw deadpool and wolverine and HE HAS RISEN BABY GIRL! Ok enjoy!

Plot : Wade brings Logan to his timeline and even tho he tried to keep him a secret from you he failed miserably and that leads to a disaster.

Warnings: language, angst and also slight spoilers.

Haunted.

7 years.

7 long years.

That’s how long it has been since you lost someone so close to your heart he might as well have tooling with him to the grave.

Logan’s death has been something you’d never get over but you knew, if it wasn’t the enemy’s he seemed to find wherever he went it would have been the adamantium poisoning him for years but no amount of thinking about it or mentally preparing would have prepared you to what was going to happen.

Looking at Laura killed you a little inside, seeing her eyes, same look as your now deceased love, so you parted ways with the young girl not long after leaving Logan to rest.

You knew she’d be fine.

And after a few years of wondering the US you stumbled upon Wade. Oh and wasn’t he just a joy to have around.

From the whole “getting his face back” to X men trainee to Cable and the X force and now to this.

Never have you ever had such a desire to murder your dear friend.

“You better have a good explanation”

“OK! OK! LOOK I CAN EXPLAIN! Our timeline was dying and we needed Peanut here to repla-”

“REPLACE!?” Your voice boomed as you stared down Wade, who took to hiding behind the “new” Logan.

“HOW. FUCKING. DARE. YOU. WILLSON !?”

The stinging in your eyes and the coming tears made it hard to look at the men in front of you. Obviously that’s not your Logan, your Logan was gone and this was an imposter to you. The strong scent of alcohol and smoke present on him, painfully reminded you of your loss and his face, god if only it was your Logan.

But he wasn’t.

And the way he is looking at you, you could tell he doesn’t know who in the world you are.

“PLEASE LISTEN SHUGAR MAMA I CAN EXPLAIN” Wade still tried to reason with you “We needed him! Our timeline was in danger of a wild bald chick that took over a machine that can wipe anything out of existence made by some god complex weirdo in a suit”he continued, in hopes his mouth moved faster than you could reach for anything sharp.

But you weren’t focusing on him at all.

You stared down Logan, trying to find something, anything that your Logan made you feel.

The warm and safe feeling his eyes would give you were not there. Not at all.

And you hated yourself that you thought that maybe he had something similar, he is Logan after all.

Just not yours.

You didn’t even feel the small river of tears going down your face as you could feel your sobs come up deep from your throat, almost like you couldn’t breathe.

Your hands covered your face, sob after sob, thoughts going through your head a million a minute. You could feel your legs give out and expecting pain to come to your knees from falling…

Accept it never came?

You felt a pair of storm arms, one holding you up by your upper arm while the other holding your back, almost hugging you, Logan’s chin almost resting on the top of your head.

You looked at him, face stained with him, through hiccups you said, barely above a whisper “I’m so sorry, your not my Logan” as your face hid in his shoulder, seeking some sort of comfort.

He in response only hummed a bit, also unsure what to do in this situation, but he saw the pain you were in and it reminded of his own.

“I know Bub, I’m sorry” he whispered to you, still holding you as you cried.

[kittenlittle24]

A/n:

Recently started watching House MD and instantly fell deep into the fandom. Please forgive any mistakes, might be ooc, I didn’t write anything in a very very long time! As well as this is my first time writing a Gregory House imagine! Not good at writing summaries!

Summery: Reader and House used to date, and like a little boy now that someone else has his toy he wants it back.

Masterlist

The door to her office slammed open, she didn’t bother raising her eyes, “Yes Gregory?”

Frowning, “You know I don’t appreciate being called like that.”

She smiled, lowered the file she was reading onto her desk, and placed her hands on it, “Ah. Just like you know I don’t appreciate people barging into my office like that.”

He pulled out the chair opposite of her and sat down, he put his legs on her desk and started to play with his cane.

“Nice bling.”

She sighed and lightly smacked his feet, not wanting to hurt him but signaling to take them off.

“Are congratulations in order?”

She stayed silent for another moment, he wasn’t done, she figured.

“Though I really don’t understand why you would do something so idioti-“ he didn’t disappoint.

“House. Say why you are wasting my time or get out.”

Putting his legs down, he sat up, “5-year-old girl, fever, loss of appetite, irritability, and shortness of breath.”

“Did you run an EKG?”

Hitting himself in the head with a fake gasp, “Why didn’t I think about that?”

She got up and walked around the desk to open the door for him.

“You don’t need my consult, you know what it is. I don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but I want you to leave.” She told him before returning to her desk and resuming her paperwork.

She heard him get up and limp to the door, only looking up when she heard it close, but just to see he was still there, her door closed once again and he was leaning heavily on his cane and looked deep in thought, eyebrows scrunched together and knuckles almost white from his grip on his cane.

“So expect me to watch you walk down the aisle, wearing all white and what?”

She leaned back in her chair and quietly replied, “I’m not sure why you think you’re invited.”

His mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows raised to a shocked expression.

“My fiancé doesn’t want me to invite an ex to our wedding.”

“Who cares what he thinks?” He yelled.

Getting up and walking to stand in front of him, “I do! And frankly, I understand him. House, you want to be miserable, fine, have at it. But please, leave me out of it! I’m done with whatever this is!” She answered with her hands moving between them.

“I don’t think you can be more done with me than not even inviting me.”

“You broke up with me! Don’t you get it? How could I marry another man when you’re sitting right there? I’m marrying him and then I’m leaving the hospital.”

“Leaving me,” he added defeatedly.

She nodded and looked down. Not able to look at his blue eyes.

“Marry me instead.”

Her eyes shot up to him, shocked and so each speechless.

“You don’t want to leave the hospital, you love me, I love you, I’m an asshole and you could tell me that everyday for the rest of my miserable life. Please, be miserable with me.” He asked in a low voice, half jokingly.

Against her better judgment, as if forgetting the pain he put her through when he broke up with her because she got too close and he was too afraid of intimacy and letting anyone break his walls down, she took his scruffy cheeks in her soft palms, raised his head to lock their gazes and whispered, “I guess I am an idiot.” Before she placed her lips on his, kissing him passionately, feeling his salt and pepper beard scratch her chin in the best way possible.

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Anti War

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: I thought humans loved war?

Human: What makes you say that?

Alien: It’s in your movies, your books, your video games, your newspapers; it’s everywhere in your society.

Human: That’s a romanticism of war used to promote the idea of it to recruits young men and women to join war.

Alien: But-

Human 2: But nothing.

*Alien and Human turn to see second human approaching

*Their left hand is a robotic prosthetic and half their face is hidden behind a metal visor.

Human 2: Only people who’ve never seen the horrors of war, real war, go on and on about how we should always be at it.

Human 2: *Points at visor

Human 2: I took a shredder grenade during the third war of Mumben and I lost my hand not long after that.

Alien: Yet your losses were replaced.

Human 2: *Expression becomes angry and leans in

Human 2: My losses were replaced, eh?

Human 2: Tell that to my fucking friends who are still lying in the dirt of that miserable hellhole.

Human 2: Tell that to their families who wept for days knowing they’d never see them again.

Human 2: Tell that to those of us left alive that see their faces every god damn night we close our eyes and relieve their final moments like it was a fraking movie.

Alien: *Says nothing and looks at ground

Human 2: That’s what I thought.

Human 2: I’m going to leave you with this last bit of advice so listen good.

Human 2: The next time you think all humans want to jump on into the fire remember my face.

Human 2: *Removes metal visor

Alien: *Looks on in horror of scaring and damage.

Human 2: Because this is the real face of war, and those who have seen it never want to go back.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, minor alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing, insecurities, trouble with feelings, and explicit sexual content: mentions of virginity loss and suggestive comments (not totally explicit, but still there so…).

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Yeah, no, it was totally the party.

It was the party that littered your house with blurred faces, swaying bodies, and their drink of choice that consisted of the pungent concoction of fruit punch and booze that caused the icky feeling in your stomach to churn.

It was the strangers, who—when given the opportunity, wouldn’t think twice about ignoring your existence—tainted your once cozy furniture with dirty shoes and outside clothes that now soiled in sweat that made you fall sick with nausea.

It was the betrayal of Carmen Paiz, as the sudden regret of disclosing your parent-less weekend to her unwarrantedly prompted your friend to spread the word of a Saturday night party at ours that made you feel ridden with queasiness.

Christ, you were just alluding to a girls night.

All you knew for certain, though, was that it totally wasn’t Eddie Munson.

No, it couldn’t be how close he was leaning into her that forced a lump in your throat. Or her manicured hand roaming the expanse of his arm. Or her giggles that filtered between them, as she stretched upon her tippy toes—because, of course, she was effortlessly cute—to whisper into his ear.

Yeah, no, it couldn’t be that. Because if it was that, it would only confirm the utter pathetic-ness of your existence; falling in love with a guy you slept with once. Who does that?! Granted, it was also your first time sleeping with anyone ever, but, of course, in the grand scheme of fearing rejection, you just had to brush off his concerns, and brand yourself the “cool” virgin, who wouldn’t get emotionally attached to the drug dealer that took said virginity.

God, what a liar you were.

Unbeknownst to you, a piteous frown had permanently etched itself onto your face. Should you have seen yourself, you wouldn’t coiled up and shriveled away from embarrassment. Like the freak masochist you had suddenly become, your eyes couldn’t tear away from the pair; torturing yourself as punishment for being so unbelievably stupid.

And to really just hammer the nail into the coffin, the round eyes that once bore into yours just a few days ago in the back space of his van had suddenly caught sight of you over the breadth of her shoulder.

Whiplash had never hit you so hard before, as you succumbed the bitterness that filled your red solo cup. But no forceful amount of chugging could deny the fact that you had painfully been caught red handed.

Staring like a perverted psycho?!

Your feet found themselves trailing up the steps to your bedroom before you could even think. With a heaving chest and a will no longer there to live, your bedroom door slammed behind you, as the bass of whatever Top 100 Hottest Hits vibrated against you.

Humiliation slumped your shoulders low, as bated breaths trapped themselves in your enclosing throat. Left with just yourself in your ill-lit room, your eyes scoured the moutain of clothes that cluttered your bedroom, because Eddie Munson was coming over.

Only, whatever attempts you made to appear “drug-dealer’s-hot-girlfriend” worthy fell short, as you stood in a poorly picked ensemble, catered directly for his attention.

Mission failed beyond miserably.

Disgusted by the feelings that infested in your belly, the sudden impulse to purge your room clean became inevitable. Ransacked became an understatement, as you rummaged through laid out garments, letting shirts and skirts take your belittling critiques to suppress those burning tears from falling.

Christ, weren’t you too old to be wearing a pattern like that?! And that shirt?! No one of this generation would ever humiliate themselves by wearing something like that! God, and enough with the blue! When were you going to learn that the color doesn’t look good on y-

“Sweetheart?” His knuckles rattled against your door.

In a panic, your unshed tears were sniffled away, as you set yourself straight against the mess of your bedroom. “Uh… y-yeah, come in!” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You hadn’t dared to face the courage to see him, merely being content with listening to the brief exposure of music coming in and out with the door finally closing behind him.

And with the jangle of his wallet chain, his stature consumed the area beside you. “Are you okay?” He whispered.

You felt the burn of his scrutinizing eyes against you. “I…” Silence ate at you. “I think I have too much clothes.”

“Oh.” For once, Eddie had actually gotten a good look at the state of your bedroom.

“But I hate them all.”

“Oh.”

There was guilt that resided in his voice; a hurt in his chest for causing the congestion of your voice. But you couldn’t fault. And Eddie knew you never would. He, too, was confused.

“Yeah, l-like this dress, y’know.” You croaked, huffing out an awkward laugh. “Like, I don’t even wear dresses, look too stupid in them to ever do so.” You wished for nothing more than for him to give up those pitying looks, and just laugh along to your damage control. “Don’t even know why I bought it.”

“I don’t think you look stupid.” He softly corrected your narrative.

You had to give him props. Here he was comforting you for something you assured him would never happen. But feelings have a way of working against you. You chuckled. “Eddie, you’ve never even seen me in a dress.”

“So, show me.” Sigh, you walked right into that one.

The corners of his lips upturned to the loveliness of that image; you, in a dress. If only you could see it as such.

With his hands bunching at the material, he took his rightful place before you, letting the springs of your bed accommodate to his weight, before he presented you the dress. There was an urgency to his eyes that made the situation unavoidable. That Eddie Munson, himself, was cemented onto your bed until you showed him yourself in a way he knew you deserved.

To feel beautifully you.

With hesitation, your fingertips played with the hem of your shirt. “Um, close your eyes?” You, yourself, didn’t know why it came out as a suggestion. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if he had said no, virginity-taker or not.

But instead, he smiled, trying to tease one out of you. “Y’know I’ve seen you naked before, right?” Yeah, that was the issue in the first place! “Or am I really that forgettable?”

Though, Eddie hadn’t expected you to take it so seriously. “No!” You rushed out. “I-I didn’t forget. It’s just, um, y’know, different now.”

A breathy chuckle of disbelief left his mouth. “Only because I want it to be a surprise.” He smirked, letting his childish antics dramatically flare his hands over his eyes.

In the bedroom of your house, Eddie Munson sat on your bed, listening carefully to the sway of your body, wondering how he could properly prepare himself for the sight of you.

Just you. Not Lacey O’Connell. Because, spare him, a little flirt with clientele wasn’t the end of the world. Just a matter of business.

The shifting of your clothes embedded a smile onto a face. Perhaps, you’d been sporting another mismatched underwear set. A grin like no other consumed him, as he relished in the memory of the one you wore the night he got to have you.

The same night where he legitimately asked you why he would ever care for your different bra and panties, after your profuse apologies about the unmatched set confirmed just how utterly adorable you were.

You swallowed thickly. Fluffing out the tightness of being unworn before now, you made sure to take three steps back for his view (and your escape plan, should everything fall apart, now you were three steps closer to the door for running away purposes).

“Um,” you whispered, “you can look now.”

Popping your knuckles became a grand excuse to not look at his face, but had you done so, you would have seen the slacking of his jaw, as his eyes flashed with the roundness of being in awe.

Eddie Munson was abusing every second to drink you in.

“Don’t get rid of that dress.”

“What?”

“You’ll do a disservice to this world and yourself, if you get rid of this dress.” You waited for the teasing glint to come, but his words had never been spoken so matter-of-factly before until now.

“I-”

“You don’t have too much clothes.” His brows creased to the gravity of his voice. “Don’t… don’t get rid of anything.” Eddie stood from his place. “Please.”

Your eyes bounced between his, before you shakily sighed. “I feel stupid, Eddie.” You whispered, tears brimming at your lash line.

“You’re just not used to it.” His hand came to caress the tension from your stiffing posture. “Believe me, I feel like that, too, sometimes.” He huffed out a chuckle. “All the time, actually.” What a lie that had to be. Eddie Munson had an envious way of being unabashedly himself. “Because of you.” He watched your face crumple into confusion. “And it makes me do really stupid things.” He sighed. “Like, not talking about what supposed to happen after we-”

“That’s not your fau- Eddie, I told you not to worry about it.” You peered to the carpeted floor in disappointment. “Really, it’s my own fault for n-not being honest with you, and, uh, myself. A-And now I’m just feeling a lot of things that I don’t understand, but I don’t want you to feel responsible for it. Lacey’s really pretty-”

“Sweetheart-”

“And you’re a single guy, you can do whatever you want. I should have never expected anything to come out from us doing, uh, y’know, that.” You groaned in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, we don’t have to talk ab-”

His hands gently caught onto the suppleness of your cheeks. “Would you please shut up?” He softly chuckled at your stunned face. “No, sorry, that was mean, I take that back.” He didn’t. Eddie Munson’s giggles were still ringing out because of your frown. “I just need you to stop talking for a second, and just listen.” You reluctantly nodded to his request. “Because I get it, you thought things would be easier if we were just, I don’t know… nonchalant about things. But, Christ, sweetheart, if you have feelings for me, whether they’re good or bad, I want to know!” He emphasized. “We’ve talked about things before, we can talk about this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, about how many ounces I want to buy from you.”

“Hey, you’re gonna stand here and tell me our little conversations meant nothing to you?” He joked, hoping to pull a smile out of you. “Clearly they had to if I was deemed worthy enough to sleep with.” He winked.

“That was just because I like yo- I mean, no- ugh!” What a win for Freud (and Eddie), as the unconscious error revealed his tortuously shit-eating grin. But in the moment, you didn’t want his laughter. You wanted answers to your own pathetic feelings. You whined in frustration. “This stupid dress sucks!”

You lost all concerns about changing in front of him, as your angry hands worked to throw the fabric away from your body. “Hey- no, wait, c’mon, I was just teasing.” Eddie was quick to pick up the discarded dress.

“And there’s so many people in my house! Everyone’s touching everything! A-And I’m tired, and embarrassed of all this- god, and everyone is being so inconsiderate-”

“Even me.”

Your tirade came to a halt. “What? No, Eddie, I told you, it’s not your fault-”

“It is, though.” He affirmed, despite your shaking head. “I know you saw me.” Your cheeks went ablaze with heat. You knew he saw you, but hearing it had become mortifying. “And I know it wasn’t the nicest thing to see, I should’ve considered-”

You gave up in a huff. “This is stupid.”

“This isn’t stupid, okay? None of it is.”

Your head fell into the solace of your hands. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“You already did it. You just did the hard part.” His calloused fingers wrapped around your wrists. “And I’ll make it even easier by telling you that I like you back.”

You refused his words, shaking your head in retaliation. “Don’t pity me, Eddie, I-”

“Hey, look, I get you’re trying to make me tell you how you feel, but I don’t want you doing that with me.” His voice fell stern. “Hell, I don’t even want to do that with you.” You could cry from the way he chastised you. “Stop trying to find an easy out. You’re not even realizing that the simplest thing to do not find an easy way out.” Eddie rationalized. “I like you, you like me. I want to be with you, and now you tell me if you want to be with me.”

“You already know-”

“No, I don’t know.” He interjected. “I don’t want to think I know shit. You tell me.”

You gnawed at your lips raw, eyes rounding against the scariest confrontation you had to face that came in the form of a long-haired, lanky guy with an expression so goofy you wondered how you managed to take him so seriously. “I want to be with you, Eddie.” Your voice cracked. “Like, m-more than just being with you in the back of your van.”

“Christ, why would you ever let me take your virginity there?! I could have at least taken you out to dinner first!” He swore against himself with frustration, as you giggled. “I’m so sorry about that, darling.”

“No, it’s okay, I-I liked it.” You mustered the courage to be honest. “Really, it was perfect.”

Eddie Munson smiled at you. “So are you.” Accept it. “And this dress.” His eyes finally glanced down, and suddenly, “Who the hell were you planning on having sex with?” His accusatory finger circled the seductive lace of your bra and underwear; a matching set!

Back to hiding your face you went. “Don’t make me say it, I already told you I liked you.”

“Aw, babe.” For once, you could find the will to laugh along with his teasing, letting yourself enjoy a moment of his cockiness.

His arm circled around your waist, bringing you flush against his chest. If the teasing was going to continue, he, at the very least, would grant you a place to hide. “You were just coming over for the first time, I was nervous… and maybe… hopeful.” Your muffled voice squeaked against his shirt.

His guttural laugh vibrated onto you. A silence had lingered before his lips caressed the shell of your ear. “You don’t have too many clothes, sweetheart.” Whispered with gentle firmness to solidify it into your overthinking head.

You didn’t have too many feelings.

Just the right amount ones that made you perfectly you.

His fingertips slowly traced down the slope of your waist, until it came in contact with the delicate fabric of your panties. “Well, maybe you do right now.” The lace snapped against your hip.

And your giggles fizzled into the atmosphere, as you braced yourself with the confronting journey of simply just speaking. Truthfully. “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Get these people the hell out of my house, so we can have sex.”

You were once again ambushed with the sudden bass of whatever Top 100 Hottest Hits played, as Eddie Munson jumped hurdles out of your bedroom, before you were content with the silence that followed a closed door.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I suppose blurbs are meant to be really short, but, unfortunately, I cannot shut up. Also, was it decipherable that the clothes/dress was representative of her feelings? Or should I just stop while I’m at it? Thank you, big kisses! <3

[thebramblewood]

For a brief moment in her eternal existence, Lilith was well and truly shook.

Previous / Next

[incessant pounding at door]

Lilith: It’s nearly sunrise! Who would be calling at such an ungodly hour? [expectant pause] Fine. I suppose I’ll answer it then. Helena? [immediately composes self] Well, isn’t this an unexpected pleasure?

Helena: Let’s get one thing straight, Lilith Vatore. I’m only here as a last resort. I won’t let you have your way with me. Caleb warned me about you.

Lilith: [bemused smirk] Oh? So that’s what’s been keeping him busy.

Helena: [barreling forward] And I read your book. You don’t come off well.

Lilith: It’s hardly my book. That journalistic hack is the bane of my existence. No one alive still cared about the Vatore name until he started nosing around. I’d kill him, but it'd just make more trouble than it’s worth.

Helena: How can you talk about it so casually?

Lilith: What?

Helena: Killing people!

Lilith: Because it’s what vampires do. It’s as natural to us as breathing, darling.

Helena: Caleb doesn’t kill people, does he? I don’t think he even drinks blood.

Lilith: Caleb, bless his heart, is a miserable fucking sadsack. Clinging onto one’s humanity is a thankless task, one he’s bafflingly decided is his personal cross to bear. But we’re above humanity now, Helena. We’re elite. We’re supernatural. Nobody can fucking touch us. Our power is limitless, so long as guilt doesn’t get in the way.

Helena: I’m not interested in power. I didn’t ask for any of this. Are you even sorry for what you did?

Lilith: Of course! I thought you were dead until five minutes ago, and I have been mourning the loss.

Helena: [scoffs in disbelief] For yourself maybe. You didn’t give a shit what happened to me. I have no future because of you!

Lilith: Oh, that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’ll make a remarkable vampire someday. I can sense it. I understand you and Caleb have been… bonding. While you’re here, though, you may as well learn from both of us. You might be surprised whose lessons you prefer.

Helena: We’ll see about that.

Lilith: Make yourself comfortable. If you’ll excuse me, I need to have a little chat with my dear brother.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[linkito]

Kiss Prompt Scarian 30 …as comfort? :3 -🎀

ange asked for this as well, so it’s gotta be hhau, right? ft. some unused dialogue from our Big RP™

Scar hates seeing Grian like this— curled up and miserable, wings tucked so tightly against his back that they may as well be invisible. His hands fidget with the ribbon tied around one of his wrists, body mostly hidden under the length of his cloak. He’s pressed up into the wall in a way that can’t be comfortable and Scar just can’t take it anymore.

He needs to do something.

“Grian,” Scar tries, and though his ears droop slightly when Grian barely twitches in response, he still continues. “Did I ever tell you about my idea for a cookie shop?”

Grian does perk up slightly at that, but it’s mostly to cock an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why Scar would possibly think to bring up such a thing now of all times.

They hardly ever talk about Hermitcraft. And for good reason— it usually results in nothing but pain.

But something about Scar making cookies brings warmth to Grian’s frigid, aching heart, and despite his better judgement, he mumbles, “…cookie shop?”

Scar smiles, feeling successful already and deciding to ride that high. “Yeah, and I was going to bake them myself! None of that villager crap.”

Grian doesn’t reply directly, but he nods, eyes now regarding Scar with renewed interest, glad to tether his attention onto something that isn’t his own self-loathing and despair.

Scar is happy to take what he can get. He also scoots in closer to Grian, craving the closeness, just wanting to be within his orbit. It takes a moment, but Grian returns the casual affection by idly running his fingers over Scar’s knee, which is more than enough to keep Scar going on with his daydreamy nonsense.

“I was gonna grow out my hair and have this whole elven theme going— live in a tree, work right out of my house.” Scar runs a hand through his messy hair, noting that it’s already begun to grow out quite a lot, even if it looks nothing like how he would have intended. He probably looks more like some sort of goblin than a lustrous-haired elf.

Grian chuckles softly, pulling Scar out of his thoughts. “What, like a Keebler Elf?”

“What’s a Keebler Elf?” Scar asks, entirely genuine.

That gets Grian to laugh fully, and even if Scar doesn’t understand why, it makes his heart about melt. He loves Grian’s laugh. He doesn’t get to hear it enough these days.

“You know,” Scar adds, feeling cheeky now that he’s already earned this small victory. “I had a particular cookie in mind that I bet you would have loved.”

“Tell me,” Grian says, eager for more of this delightful distraction.

Now that he’s got him, Scar begins a long-winded explanation, theatrical and exuberant: “Well, I make a delicious chocolate chip cookie, of course, but you can’t have those—“

“I’m not allergic to chocolate, Scar.”

“You’re not??” Scar gasps, earning a small eye roll from Grian (he’s still smiling though, so still a win). “Well no matter! Because I had an amayzin’ idea for incorporating chorus fruit into the icing for sugar cookie.”

“Chorus fruit, really?” Grian replies quietly, now weirdly finding himself craving the odd, purple fruit that he likely would have never eaten otherwise. He feels the edge of doomed nostalgia begin to creep in, but only for a moment because Scar keeps talking, snagging his attention back to this fantasy of a quaint little cookie shop.

“Yeah! A treat and a surprise!” Scar exclaims proudly. “One little bite and zzzzzooooop!”

Grian laughs again, weaker, but still amused by Scar’s antics. He wants to let the daydream linger, to picture bright purple frosting and a fantastical treehouse without feeling a sense of great loss of what could have and should have been. He struggles, but Scar’s smile keeps him grounded, leaves him leaning in, gravitated toward that unbridled joy he somehow manages to hold onto.

But maybe his sorrow still shows through, because Scar leans in closer, presenting that smile so it fills all of his vision. “You know what I was going to call them?”

Grian blinks, barely able to process anything other than the closeness of Scar’s smiling face. He manages a small shake of his head, eyes still anchored on Scar’s bright green ones.

Scar’s smile widens, seeming incredibly pleased with himself and whatever this answer may be.

“Elven kisses,” he coos, closing the distance and pressing their lips together, softly, like a feather brushing over skin.

The name hardly makes sense, if Grian is being honest, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. Something about the prospect of a simpler time, where Grian is surrounded by the fresh smell of cookies and a beautifully woven treehouse and the image of Scar presenting him with that name just as proudly, a shy little blush scattered across his cheeks.

He should have kissed Scar a long, long time ago, he thinks, somewhat sadly.

But Scar’s lips are on his now, and it’s possibly one of the only good things left in this wretched nightmare of a server— an uncomplicated affection, something genuine and pure. Something gentle and loving when everything else is coarse and cruel.

Grian moves, grabbing both sides of Scar’s head with desperate, yearning hands, and kisses him fully, hungry for the comfort of Scar’s breath against his own, lips intertwined, passionate and unwavering.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He feels Scar’s mouth curl upwards into a joyous smile, pressed into his own, private— theirs alone to enjoy— and for a moment, everything feels like it might be alright.

For a moment there’s sweetness dancing across his tongue, and Grian willingly falls into the illusion of its simplicity.

[acourtofthought]

Is Lucien ashamed of his scars? Does he have scars from being whipped under the mountain or is this just a fandom created assumption?

I think he's probably self-conscious about them which we are given evidence of early on:

Lucien said, “True. But indulge me: you’re a human woman, and yet you’d rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this”—he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face—“surely we’re not so miserable to look at.”

Lucien was Tamlin's emissary, the face of the Spring Court who often dealt with other courts. Considering how handsome he is even now, I imagine he was used to people responding to his physical appearance a certain way before his scars and now, when his scars cut down the entire length of one side of his face and with the loss of an eye, it's got to be difficult not to wonder whether people staring at him is because of how he looks now and not just because of how he's always looked.

In his line of work I imagine he knows appearances matter and I am guessing what Amarantha did to him has left him with some insecurity that he plays off with self-deprecating humor. As for the scars on his back, if Sarah remembers what she wrote in ACOTAR then they should still be there:

"She used her - used our powers to keep my back from healing. I haven't been able to move until today." Since Sarah based his character off Jamie Fraser and Jamie also has scars on his back from being whipped I think she's probably going to continue this with Lucien but we will see!

[beautiful-basque-country]

On October 23, 1980, Alex N. was 12 years old when the tragedy [an accidental gas explosion] occurred at the Marcelino Ugalde school in Ortuella (Bizkaia): 51 people died, mostly boys and girls who were studying at the public center, including his 6yo sister Paloma. A preteen who had to live a traumatic experience that still remains vividly in his memory today. “I took her in my arms to my parents' car, but there was nothing to do,” painfully recalls this native of Ortuella, who like many of his neighbors does not understand why the digital platform Netflix has announced the intention to bring to the big screen the adaptation of Fernando Aramburu's novel The Child, based on the testimonies of some of the survivors of the Ortuella catastrophe.

“The book, based on a personal story, does not seem bad to me since it collects a personal experience, but trying to put the pain of so many families who still cry and suffer the loss into motion is different to me," says another neighbor who considers the commercialization of their pain "miserable."

On the other side of the story, the author of the book maintains that the platform project to adapt his text “pleases me greatly and at the same time strengthens my conviction that the children who died in that 1980 tragedy deserve a worthy place in our memory.”

However the intention announced by Netflix has caused deep discomfort in this mining municipality of barely 8,500 inhabitants, whose municipal representatives approved yesterday at a meeting a unanimous declaration in which they request “in a respectful and emphatic manner, that no film or audiovisual production that deals with the drama that our people experienced in the past is made. This decision has been adopted unanimously by our community, reflecting our collective desire to safeguard our history and privacy.”

They expect the American platform “respects this request and refrain from making any production based on the events that affected our people. We urge you to consider the sensitivity of our situation and the importance of our right to decide about the public dissemination of our history.”

---

This does open an interesting debate about audiovisual creation and consent. If the town doesn't want to reopen a not fully-closed wound that only interests Netflix as a mean to have a profit, I guess they should be respected.

What do you think?

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — NJ DEVILS (PART TWO)

one — two

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, dawson1417, and 14,971 others

y/ndevils00 hi and welcome back to my channel! this evening we’re going to be discussing the njdevils loss against the minnesotawild so buckle in because this was a very (un)eventful night!

there was one (1) goal made tonight by our pretty boys in red, however Timo told me my skirt was ugly yesterday, so he’s been kicked off of this post! will he redeem himself by the time they play on friday? that depends on if he listens to my demands!

onto the boys who actually made it on the post: jackson tried his hardest but despite that, he did not make a goal 💔 he did however look miserable (see slide 1), spend an insane amount of time watching baby sensory videos on the ipad (see slide 6), get knocked down (see slide 8), and then finally look cool for once in his life (see slide 9)!

swiss rap god got an assist on the only goal of the night, got in a scrum (see slide 7), and looked absolutely traumatized by something on the bench (see slide 2)! i’m not sure what he’s seen in his life but i’d like for him to keep it to himself :)

the crowned king of sweden, jesper bratt, also made an assist on tonight’s goal AND looked adorable and smiled after his own failed goal <3

maraschino cherry did absolutely nothing of note tonight but that’s better than getting a penalty (*cough* tuna *cough*)! so, i took a pic of him smoldering! you look great, zoolander!

and finally, mercy me was actually a sweet little angel tonight who can do absolutely no wrong and who definitely 100% did not pay me at all ever to say any of this!

i hope you all enjoyed tonight’s game because i know i didn’t!

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, jesperbratt, john.marino97, dawson1417 and njdevils

jackhughes why do you do this to me?

y/ndevils00 i have no idea what you’re talking about

jackhughes also what the hell are baby sensory videos?

y/ndevils00 don’t act like you don’t know, jackson

jackhughes not my name

sharangovich17 they’re videos of bright colored dancing fruits and vegetables over a black screen

jackhughes @/sharangovich17 why do you know this?

y/ndevils00 he has a baby, jackson. unlike some other people on this team 👀

jackhughes still not my name and you still shouldn’t be a mother yet

y/ndevils00 YOU SAID “YET”!

john.marino97 dear god, hughesy what have you done?

john.marino97 not only are you still calling me a cherry, but i’m zoolander now too?

y/ndevils00 this is correct

y/ndevils00 i also complimented you, what do you have to say for yourself?

john.marino97 i don’t know if this warrants a thank you

y/ndevils00 well you just said it, so i’m taking it. you’re welcome! 🤭

john.marino97 idk how he puts up with you

y/ndevils00 if you ever find out, let me know!

user54 omg 4/9 pictures being of jack, their comments about kids, marino hinting at her dating someone?! it’s so obviously jack!

user26 idk, the way she posts about him makes it seem like they’re just good friends

nicohischier i’m honestly not sure what i’m supposed to say to this

nicohischier thank you? i think?

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome swiss cheese 🤠

nicohischier i take it back

nicohischier we’re no longer friends

y/ndevils00 it’s too late, you signed a blood oath to be my friend forever, remember?

nicohischier ahh is that what i signed when you joined the team? i thought it was the standard NDA

dawson1417 “give me 5 more bucks and i’ll make sure no one knows you paid me for a slide” WHAT IS THIS Y/N/N?!

y/ndevils00 hey! i SAID you didn’t pay me! you just exposed yourself merc-dog

dawson1417 sure, i’m the one who exposed me!

dawson1417 and did you just call me “mercy me”?

user38 her and jack are dating, for sure. barely trying to hide it at this point

jesperbratt i am not the crowned king of sweden, but i appreciate your sentiments y/n!

y/ndevils00 you are the goodest boy of all the boys

jackhughes do i mean nothing to you?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes shhh grownups are talking now

tmeier96 “y/n’s list of demands: bring me an iced coffee, tell me my skirt is pretty and you were lying, convince HIM to let me get a cat, tell nico that swiss cheese IS a cool nickname and that he’s wrong and stupid, get me a blanket because this stupid rink is cold and i hate it here.”

y/nonthegram you have to do them all by thursday. good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!

jackhughes she’s not getting a cat

trevorzegras @/jackhughes did you let her watch hunger games again after the fire incident?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras it was one little fire! i hardly think it warrants the banishment of all the movies forever!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 you tried to make your own fire dress and nearly burned down the lake house

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras big talk coming from the guy who helped me

jackhughes @/trevorzegras you WHAT?

user78 DID JACK JUST CONFIRM THEY’RE DATING?!

user19 AND TREVOR?!

trevorzegras hey! i know that ipad kid!

jackhughes don’t encourage her z

[aliceparrilla18]

The promise of a new day

My fill for @codywanweek's Day 1. No/Different Order 66.

Posted also on ao3!

Happy CodyWan Week everyone! <3

»»————-　★　————-««

Cody grabbed Obi-Wan's wrist as he ran and pulled him behind the gunship.

“Cody! What are you…” Obi-Wan began to say, disoriented from being pulled from the fight, but Cody didn't give him a chance to finish.

“Let’s call it off,” he said.

Obi-Wan frowned, even more confused now.

“What?”

“We can still call it off. It's not too late to back out yet.”

Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and sighed. They could hear the war cries of the troopers from behind the gunship.

“Cody, we all agreed to this plan,” Obi-Wan reminded. “It’s our only chance to end this war. We talked about it.”

“I know, but talking about it and doing it are two completely different things.” Cody put away his blaster, stepped closer to Obi-Wan and took his hands in his. “I don’t like this, Obi-Wan. Please, let's call it off. There has to be another way.” His voice broke miserably, audible even through the vocoder in his helmet, but he couldn't care less about that at the moment.

Obi-Wan's gaze softened.

“Oh, my dear, I'm afraid at this point, it's the only way. We're already in too deep. I know you're scared, I am too. But we're ready. We've discussed this scenario a hundred times, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“It's a good plan. Everything is prepared. Everyone knows exactly what to do.”

“There are still so many things that can go wrong, too many things. We can't control everything, no matter how prepared we are.” It didn't matter whether they liked it or not, it was the truth. They had both been fighting this war long enough to know that. “What if the bolt actually hits you or Boga? What if you fall just for us to catch you dead?”

“That won't happen. You chose your best and most trusted man to shoot, didn't you? You told me you trusted him with your life.”

“Because I do! But I still think it's too risky.” Cody's voice as he spoke the next words sounded the same as Cody felt - desperate for his Jedi to see things from his perspective and change his mind. “Obi-Wan, please.”

Cody knew the plan, and he knew that what they were about to do was necessary. He knew that in order for the Chancellor Palpatine, or - as it turned out - Darth Sidious, not to learn that they had figured out his plans, and to believe that the clones had successfully executed Order Sixty-Six, everything had to look believable, down to the last detail. Kenobi needed to go down, publicly, and then hide until they could move on to the next phase of the plan. Simple as that. A show.

Cody just didn't understand why it had to be his Jedi who had to play a key role in this show. He hadn't liked the idea from the start, and now that it was all in motion, he just couldn’t stop imagining everything going wrong - instead of celebrating a victory, suffering the biggest loss they had ever suffered.

And Obi-Wan was right – he was scared. There was so much at stake. The fate of the galaxy. The lives of Cody's brothers. Cody and Obi-Wan's future, one that if everything worked out, then maybe, just maybe, they could share together.

Obi-Wan looked at him in silence for a moment, with such intensity in his eyes that he seemed to want to see into Cody's soul. Maybe he did. Cody could only stare back, speechless, afraid that if he spoke again, his voice would break completely.

Then Obi-Wan put both hands on Cody's helmet and lifted it off his head, and Cody let him. He was only a little embarrassed by the tears that Obi-Wan could now see rolling down his cheeks.

“Cody, my love…” Obi-Wan said softly. He tucked Cody's helmet under his arm and reached up with his free hand to put it on the commander's cheek. They both leaned forward so that their foreheads touched in a keldabe kiss, and that's when a sob escaped from deep in Cody's chest.

“Just promise you’ll come back to me,” Cody whispered so quietly he wasn't sure Obi-Wan would hear him. But he did. For those few seconds the world around them went silent, the sounds of fighting gone. For those few seconds it was just them.

“I’ll come back. I promise,” Obi-Wan whispered just as quietly. When Cody looked up, he saw that there were tears on Obi-Wan's face as well. Neither of them were the type to make promises they couldn't keep, but it was all they had now, and it would have to be enough.

Cody took a deep breath, inhaling Obi-Wan's scent, trying to remember it as best as he could, hoping it would give him strength. “May the Force be with you, cyare,” he said.

Obi-Wan smiled, stroking Cody's cheek with his thumb. They both closed their eyes.

“May the Force be with you, love. I’ll see you in a better world.”

Cody allowed himself to keep his eyes closed for a brief moment longer, and when he opened them again, he was alone. Something exploded somewhere in the distance. He looked down at the ground where his helmet was lying.

Declarations and big words had to wait, or remain unsaid forever.

All he had was the promise, the promise of a new day.

»»————-　★　————-««

“The Promise of a New Day” - Paula Abdul

Eagle's calling and he's calling your name.

Tides are turning bringing winds of change.

Why do I feel this way?

The promise of a new day.

The promise, the promise of a new day.

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

I am going to write a scene between two characters that is so improbably emotionally honest.

(or: another exerpt from a fic i'll never finish, entitiled "griddlehark finally talk about stuff" in my drafts.)

-

Gideon wasn't sleeping. Harrow knew this because she also wasn't sleeping. But her own sleeplessness was born of long habit. It was an easy, comfortable insomnia. The dark and quiet were all she had left of home.

Gideon, though, had never been prone to insomnia before. She had always been easily exhausted and prone to oversleeping, rocklike and deaf. And yet, there she was, for the third night in a row, up at odd hours in the safehouse’s kitchen. Harrow could hear her softly shuffling around. She hesitated, considered leaving her to her own devices—what claim, after all, did Harrow have on her anymore? What right had she to butt into any of Gideon's affairs?

But she knew, in the way that she knew almost everything about Gideon, that she was at her worst when feeling abandoned. Harrow would go if she was told to go, but she had to try, at least. She would not abandon Gideon again.

So she went out to the kitchen and found Gideon hunched over the counter, wolfing down plain crackers. This, at least, was somewhat relatable to her.

“Can't sleep?” she asked, as it seemed as good an opener as any.

“Nope.” Gideon did not stop eating as she spoke. “Guess my body's still not in the habit. Being dead and all. Do you know how weird it is to be dead? Your organs just kind of…sit there. But they don't actually do anything. Puts a real damper on all your vital impulses. Like, all of them.”

This was more words than Gideon had said to her in weeks, which was good, even if they were the last words in the world Harrow wanted to hear. She floundered for something to say. Her face must've been doing something, because Gideon looked at it and said, “Oh, right, sorry. Wouldn't want to upset you with the details. Paul told me not to talk about it to you. Be a real shame to show you the consequences of your actions.”

Harrow tried not to react to that, but it hit her like a slap all the same. “I only wanted to save you.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to be saved? Did you ever stop to think, hey, maybe Gideon threw herself on a fencepost because she cared about me and did not want an eternal front-row seat to my continued suffering? No. You didn't. You never thought about what I wanted, you only thought about how you'd lost your favorite chew toy. At least have the decency not to revive the little innocent martyr act from when we were eight. It never fooled me then and it doesn't fool me now. Don't look at me like that.”

“I’m—sorry.”

“You're sorry.”

“I never deserved you. I know that. Not once in my whole miserable life did I deserve to breathe the same air as you. I should've signed your release the day you asked. I should've let you go without conditions and with half our coffers in your pockets. I should’ve begged your forgiveness the first time I said an unkind word to you.”

“You can say that all you like, Harrow, but you never would've.”

“I would now. In a heartbeat. Fat lot of good it does us.”

Gideon shrugged. “I'm not sure I would've left anyway, back then.”

Harrow was startled by that. She could remember Gideon speaking of nothing else, as children. “No?”

“I mean, what would I have even done? Joined the cohort? Been there, done that, and I was bored in a month. I don't know—I don't know. Seems like everything I used to believe in was a sham. My parents. The cohort. You.”

“I don't know how you want me to respond to that.”

“Try telling me the truth.”

Harrow was quiet for a long moment. She had been telling the truth. She needed to find a truth Gideon could believe. Start from there. “You're right. I wouldn't have let you go, when we were children. I could never stand to have you out of arm’s reach, for the same reason you would never have left. I would be at a loss. The fabric of the universe would come unraveled without you. I believed that then, and I've seen evidence of it now.”

“Bullshit, Harrow. You liked having something to play with.”

“You know better than anyone that both can be true, you insufferable, pedantic meathead. You know better than anyone how I felt then, what I feel now. Do you think I was ever stupid enough to believe myself your superior? Do you think I never understood what I was doing? You were the single point around which my entire world revolved. Everything made so much sense, when it was all about you. I have seen my life without you, Griddle, and it was colder and emptier than I had thought possible. In retrospect, the idea that I had endured such a childhood at all should have alerted me to the fact that something was wrong.

“I have never flinched away from my own faults. My inadequacies, perhaps, but not my faults. And I have always known that you were better than I am. I was once in denial, but never truly in ignorance, of the horror of our treatment of you. And yet the only sin you hold against me is that I tried to release you. That I removed you from my reach, relieved you of my beck and call. That is the only thing you have ever refused to forgive me for. Why?”

“You know why.”

“I want you to tell me. For once in your life, just tell me how you feel.”

“I feel stupid. I feel betrayed. I feel like I have not slept properly in a month, because I haven't. I feel like I was a corpse recently, because I was. Is this what you want to hear?”

“I want you to answer the question.”

Gideon stopped, took a deep breath. “We both already know, Harrow. Why do you need me to tell you?”

“Plausible deniability.”

She hesitated for a very long time. “I never wanted to be separated from you, either. I kidded myself about being your rightful equal when we were kids, but I don't think I even believe that now. My life was always going to be—you. I knew that. I just. Became alright with it. At some point. It was like—like, imagine if someone took your bones away, or something. The ones you carry around in your pockets, I mean, not the ones in your body. But kinda those too? Like, if everything that made you you was suddenly stripped away and you were useless. And I had to watch, Harrow, all of it, knowing I could help you. Knowing I could save you, if only you'd let me fulfill my only purpose that ever really mattered.”