#thank you to anyone who actually read it all

[estellesdoll]

Hii can you do a Matt Sturniolo imagine where like the reader (us) is Eminem’s daughter and they like meet at an event and are like super into each other but they Matt doesn’t find out we’re eminems daughter until a little bit later. Please and thank you <3

∿ 𝜗 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜚 ﹐

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: At an event, Y/n, Eminem’s daughter, meets Matt while picking a drink. They connect easily, and when Matt learns who she is, he treats her like anyone else. By the end of the night, there's a spark between them, hinting at something special.

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 : yes

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: older!matt x fem!reader | Eminem's daughter

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption

𝒘. 𝒄.: 3.1k

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: I hope you like it! 🎀🤍 It's my first request, and I'm pretty nervous! SEND ME MORE REQUESTS, AND IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE A COMMENT ON THE POST:

౨ৎ𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 |

| ౨ৎ𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕

The event was in full swing, a sea of people gathered in the extravagant venue. The lights flickered in sync with the beats of the music, and the air was thick with excitement. But, as always, you tried your best to stay in the background, away from the spotlight that seemed to follow you wherever you went. After all, being Eminem's daughter wasn’t always as glamorous as people made it out to be. Tonight was no exception, your goal was to enjoy the night without drawing too much attention.

You bit your lip as you read over the menu for what felt like the tenth time. A Tommy’s Margarita? A Negroni? You had no idea what the difference was between them, and the last thing you wanted was to look completely out of place by ordering something that tasted awful. You loved a good drink, but you weren’t exactly a cocktail expert. You shifted on your feet, trying to decide, and that’s when you heard a voice next to you.

“Having trouble deciding?” he asked, his voice light and friendly, with a hint of curiosity.

You blinked, trying to shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. Maybe a friend of a friend? Or just someone you’d seen in passing? You didn’t know, but his face definitely wasn’t unfamiliar. Maybe you had seen him in a video or an Instagram post? He had that vibe, someone you might come across on a popular account. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about him that felt so familiar.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “I’m a little lost here. I was thinking of getting a Tommy’s Margarita or a Negroni, but I don’t even know what the difference is.”

He glanced at the menu, his smile not fading. “Ah, well, the Tommy’s Margarita’s actually a pretty straightforward drink. It’s just tequila, lime juice, and agave. No triple sec like a regular margarita. It’s refreshing—tart, but not too sweet.”

You nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information. “So, it’s like a cleaner version of a regular one?”

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. “It’s pretty smooth, too, so it’s a good choice if you’re looking for something light and easy to sip on.”

You felt a little more confident now, but your attention still wavered between the drinks on the menu. “And the Negroni? What’s that one like?”

He chuckled softly, as though amused by the contrast in choices you were considering. “A Negroni is, uh... definitely more of an acquired taste,” he explained, his voice gentle and patient. “It’s gin, vermouth rosso, and Campari. It’s very bitter—herbal, strong. Not something I’d recommend if you want something refreshing.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of something so bitter. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that one. Not feeling the bitter vibe tonight.”

He laughed, a warm, easy sound. “Smart move. The last thing you want is to be stuck with something you can’t even enjoy. You want something light, right?”

You nodded, relieved that he was guiding you through the options without any judgment. You were starting to feel more at ease in this conversation, even though you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that you knew him from somewhere.

“Well, in that case,” he continued, his gaze still on the menu, “the Tommy’s Margarita is definitely your best bet. It’s the kind of drink that goes down easy and doesn’t make you regret your choices later.”

You chuckled, appreciating the reassurance. “Okay, I’ll go with that. One Tommy’s Margarita, please,” you said, feeling like you could actually get through the night without too much embarrassment.

He grinned, clearly pleased with your choice. “Good pick. You won’t regret it.”

As the bartender started preparing your drink, you turned to face him again, feeling like the conversation had flowed so easily. There was something about him that made you feel comfortable, as if talking to him was just... natural. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder where you knew him from.

The more you thought about it, the more his face seemed familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on social media, or in a video—he had that type of presence that made you feel like you’d come across him online before. It was like a faint memory that was just out of reach.

“So, are you new to cocktails, or just trying something different tonight?” he asked casually, his voice relaxed.

You laughed, feeling the lightness of the moment. “I’m more of a wine or beer person. But, you know, fancy night and all that. Figured I should try something new.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. Sometimes the fancy drinks aren’t just about the taste. They’re about the experience, right?”

“Exactly!” you said, warming to the conversation. “It’s like, why not try something new while we’re here?”

“Right,” he agreed, his voice softening. “Life’s too short to play it safe all the time. Gotta make the night memorable.”

You smiled, feeling a little more connected to him. There was something about the way he spoke—so laid-back, so easy to talk to—that made the whole event feel less overwhelming. Maybe you had made the right choice coming here tonight after all.

“Plus,” he added with a teasing grin, “if the drink ends up being terrible, we can just blame it on the drink and call it a learning experience.”

You laughed, and the bartender slid your Tommy’s Margarita toward you. You picked it up, raising your glass toward him. “Well, I’ll just blame you if it doesn’t taste good.”

Matt raised his own drink, his eyes locking with yours as he smiled. “You can blame me all you want. I’ll take the hit.”

You both clinked glasses, and you took a sip of your drink. It was perfect—tart, refreshing, exactly what you needed. You smiled at Matt over the rim of your glass, feeling a little lighter now that you’d figured out what to drink.

“This is really good,” you said, your smile genuine.

He grinned, pleased with your reaction. “Told you. You made the right choice.”

For a moment, you just stood there, both sipping your drinks and enjoying the quiet comfort of each other’s company. The event felt a little less like a formal gathering and more like just two people getting to know each other.

"So, are you always this good at making cocktail recommendations?" you teased, a small smile curling at your lips. "Or is this just a one-time thing?"

Matt chuckled, his eyes lighting up as they met yours. "I’m just a guy who knows his drinks. But I think I’m also pretty good at reading the room," he said with a playful glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the confidence in his voice. "Oh really?" you asked, leaning in slightly, just enough to make the space between you feel charged. "And what does that say about me?"

He took a small step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "It says you’re someone who appreciates a good recommendation—and someone who knows how to enjoy themselves when they’re out," he said, his voice lowering slightly, as if the words were meant only for you.

You smiled, the compliment making your pulse quicken a bit. There was an undeniable energy between you two now, something that made the rest of the world blur out of focus for a moment. "I like the sound of that," you murmured, feeling a little bolder now that the conversation was leaning into something more intimate.

Matt’s lips curved into a grin, his gaze softening just a touch. "Good, because I’m just getting started," he replied, his tone warm, yet there was a challenge in it, like he was daring you to keep up.

Your heart fluttered, the playful back-and-forth making everything feel more thrilling. The connection between you was undeniable now, and you could tell he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. The night felt suddenly filled with possibilities, and the conversation was only just beginning.

"So, what’s next?" you asked, your voice soft but curious, wondering where this would lead.

Matt leaned in just slightly, his voice quieter. "Whatever you’re up for. I’m all about keeping things interesting."

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension between you two building with every passing moment. The night had just begun, but you already felt like it was turning into something unforgettable.

As the conversation continued, the easy chemistry between you two only grew. You felt yourself relaxing, laughing more easily with him. There was something so natural about the way he spoke, like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you for who you were—not just as someone famous, but as you.

He leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking with yours as he asked, “So, you never told me your name…”

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the subtle shift in the air. "It’s Y/n," you replied, your voice soft, not fully sure what kind of reaction he might have. "But, um, I guess you could say... it’s a bit of a... family name."

Matt furrowed his brow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Family name? What’s that supposed to mean?” His curiosity was clear, though there was no judgment in his voice.

You smiled, looking down at your drink for a second before meeting his gaze again. "Well... my dad’s kind of a big deal," you said, your words casual but laced with a hint of hesitation. "You might’ve heard of him... Eminem?"

Matt blinked, processing the information. The realization slowly dawned on him, and his expression shifted from playful curiosity to something more awed. "Wait, Eminem’s daughter?" He leaned back slightly, eyes widening. "No way."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the surprise in his voice. "Yeah, I know, kind of a shocker, right?" You shrugged, trying to downplay it, feeling the familiar discomfort of being tied to that name, though it wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection.

But Matt’s surprise wasn’t off-putting. He didn’t seem impressed in the way people usually were when they found out who your dad was. He seemed genuinely... intrigued, and something in his expression softened as he continued, “I never would’ve guessed. Honestly, I don’t even know why I didn’t put it together sooner.”

You smiled, appreciating his reaction more than you expected. "I like to keep things low-key," you said. "It’s just easier that way."

He nodded, looking thoughtful. “I get that. It must be tough sometimes, though, right? Having everyone always know who you are...”

You shrugged. “It’s not that bad, really. I’ve always kind of just... been me. The whole fame thing is something I never really got used to.”

Matt’s eyes softened, his voice quieting. “I like that about you. You’re not trying to be anyone you’re not.”

There was something in the way he said it, so honest, that made your chest warm. His sincerity was refreshing, and it made you feel even more at ease with him.

"So, um..." Matt began, his smile returning. "That’s pretty cool, though. I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda shocked when you said your name earlier, but you’re nothing like what I expected."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

Matt chuckled, a bit of shyness creeping into his demeanor now that the mystery was out. "I don’t know, maybe someone who’d be all about the spotlight? You’re just... normal. And honestly, it’s kinda nice."

You smiled at his honesty, feeling your heart flutter a little. “Yeah, well, sometimes I’d rather just enjoy the night like anyone else. No cameras, no interviews... just a drink and a good conversation.”

“Exactly,” Matt said, his voice almost conspiratorial. “And it feels like that’s what we’re having right now.”

The way he said it made your pulse quicken. He wasn’t treating you like you were some celebrity—he was just treating you like someone he was genuinely getting to know, and that felt... nice. More than nice, actually.

"So," you said, leaning in a little, your voice soft, “what do you think about the rest of the night? You up for a bit of an adventure?”

His smile widened, and you could see the same spark in his eyes that you felt. “You know what? I think I’m up for whatever comes next... especially if it means more time with you.”

The air between you two crackled with potential, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you weren’t just the daughter of a famous rapper—you were just Y/n, having a fun night with someone who was clearly drawn to you, not the persona attached to your name.

As the night stretched on, you two continued to talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company, both of you discovering more about the other in the most genuine way possible. By the time the event started to wind down, you realized how much you were looking forward to what might come next.

And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel like Eminem’s daughter, just a girl who had met someone she couldn’t wait to see again.

As the event began winding down, the crowd starting to thin out, you found yourself not wanting to leave just yet. There was something about Matt that kept you there, drawn to him in a way that felt effortless. His presence was comforting, like a quiet anchor in a world that could sometimes feel overwhelming.

The music was quieter now, the lights dimmer, but you barely noticed any of that. Your focus was entirely on him, the way he smiled when he caught your gaze, the way his hand rested just a little too close to yours on the bar.

“So,” Matt said, leaning closer, his voice soft, “I’m really glad we talked tonight. I know we’ve only just met, but it feels like... I don’t know, like it’s been longer, you know?”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at how sincere he sounded. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like everything just clicked, like we’re... meant to be having this conversation right now.”

Matt’s gaze softened, and he smiled at you with such warmth that your chest fluttered. There was something undeniably sweet about how easy it was to talk to him, how comfortable he made you feel despite the weight of who you were. He didn’t treat you like you were someone special just because of your last name. He treated you like you were... you. And that felt like a breath of fresh air.

“You know,” Matt said, his hand moving just a little closer to yours, “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. I can’t remember the last time I met someone who made me feel this... easy.”

You reached for your drink, your fingers brushing against his hand by accident, but the small touch made your heart race. “Yeah,” you said softly, “it’s rare to find someone who just gets it, isn’t it?”

Matt smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against your hand as if to reassure you. “Yeah, it is. But I’m glad I found that someone tonight.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the way he looked at you, the warmth in his gaze sending a flutter through your chest. He didn’t need to say anything more for you to understand what he meant. The connection between you two was undeniable, growing with every passing moment.

“Matt,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “this... it feels really nice, just being here with you. I didn’t expect to feel like this tonight.”

Matt's eyes softened even more, and you could see the shift in his expression—a kind of vulnerability that made your heart ache in the best way possible. He leaned a little closer, his voice gentle. “I didn’t expect to feel this way either, but I’m glad it’s happening.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. You felt your pulse quicken, and before you knew it, you were leaning in just a little, drawn to him in a way that felt almost magnetic. The tension between you two was palpable now, the air thick with the anticipation of something that could be even more than this easy conversation.

“You know,” Matt murmured, his voice low and warm, “I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are, Y/n. Not just because of who you are, but because of how you carry yourself. You’re... real. And I like that.”

You felt your cheeks flush, your heart swelling with the warmth of his words. “You’re making me blush,” you whispered, but there was a playful smile on your lips.

Matt chuckled softly, his hand brushing against yours once more, his fingers intertwining with yours. It was a simple touch, but it felt like everything in that moment. “I’m glad I could make you smile,” he said, his voice so sweet, it made your chest ache with affection.

You looked into his eyes, the connection between you two feeling more real with each passing second. "I like this," you whispered, your voice steady but soft. "I like us."

Matt’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand as he smiled at you, a little shy, but genuine. "Me too, Y/n. Me too."

For a long moment, you just looked at each other, the world around you fading into the background. There was no pressure, no expectations—just two people sharing a moment that felt... perfect. The warmth in your chest and the soft smile on Matt’s face told you that this was only the beginning of something good. Something that felt right.

And as the night drew to a close, neither of you seemed eager to part ways. It wasn’t just the drinks or the event that made this night special. It was the connection that had formed between you both, something sweet and real that you couldn’t deny.

"Maybe we can continue this... sometime?" Matt asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation. "Like a real date?"

You smiled, the flutter in your chest growing. "I’d like that," you whispered back, your heart racing a little faster at the thought.

Matt grinned, a warm, sincere smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Good. Because I think I’ve already decided—I’m not letting you go that easily."

And with that, you both knew that tonight wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the start of something new, something sweet, and perhaps even the beginning of something more.

﹒◟send me your requests and use an emoji if you want to stay anonymous. 𓂃

@estellesdoll

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @gemzyy

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 7

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of murdering someone (as a joke, kind of), so much Scooby-Doo and dog talk, GIRL DAD RUSSELL!! (he's a warning because – well, you'll see)

Y/N: This chapter... this chapter is literally my favorite from this series. Enjoy!🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 6 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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“What the actual hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her words laced with enough venom to make anyone think twice about speaking.

Russell, clearly anticipating her fury, quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I know this sounds insane, and I know you probably hate my guts – fair enough, you’ve got every reason to – but Y/N sent me to grab some stuff for her and Emma.”

Your sister’s brows furrowed in confusion for many things. “Where the hell are they? What did you do–”

“They’re at the hospital in Springland” Russell cut in, holding up a hand. “They’re fine, okay? Just– let me pack some things for them. You can come with me, I’ll explain everything on the way” he said.

Her hands started to tremble, and she had to grip the doorframe to steady herself. “So, they’re okay? Emma’s okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. They’re good” Russell said, though his gaze was unreadable. “Please, let me–”

A flood of emotions hit Anna all at once. Relief, yes, but also an undercurrent of fear she couldn’t shake. Emma was okay. That’s all that mattered. Still, she didn’t understand why they would be in Springland. And…why hadn’t Y/N called her? And why the hell was he here picking up their stuff?

Anna stared at him, trying to read him. The whole situation was a mess. Y/N and Russell hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms, and now here he was, showing up at her door, looking exhausted and out of place. Why him?

Still, Anna couldn’t help the relief flooding through her. Y/N and Emma were safe. They had to be. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was still off.

“Alright” she sighed and reluctantly let him in. She helped him pack some sweaters, a new pair of jeans, clean underwear and everything you’d need during a hospital stay. She also tossed clothes to Emma, her favorite plushie – a Scooby-Doo toy your parents gave her. 

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Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it. The last few days had chewed you up, spat you out, and trampled over what was left. You weren’t just tired. You were hollowed out, running on fumes and sheer willpower. You had a feeling like you’d need a month's rest, minimum. 

But at least Emma was safe. She was sleeping peacefully now, tucked into the hospital bed beside you. Physically, she was unharmed, Rourke and his men hadn’t laid a finger on her. Yet, you knew that wasn’t the whole story. Mentally, the trauma of it all would leave scars neither of you could see just yet. Your brave, sweet girl had been kidnapped. Stolen away. And the thought of what could have happened – no. Your mind can’t even go there.

Now here you were, sitting vigil beside her hospital bed. You’d been given your own bed in the room – thank heaven for small favors – but you couldn’t bring yourself to use it. Instead, you stayed planted by Emma’s side, staring at her tiny face as she slept. Her brows were furrowed even in rest, her lips pressed into a worried pout. Seeing her like that made your guilt weigh heavier.

You should have been her protector, her guardian angel, the one who kept the bad things away. And yet here you were, staring at the evidence of your failure. No four-year-old – or any child, for that matter – should have to go through this.

Your mind wouldn't quit, racing through the last few days like a bad movie on loop. First, the panic when you realized Emma was gone, the gut-wrenching moment it hit you, like a punch to the stomach. Then there was Rourke, that smug, twisted, mustache-framed smile of his, and the mess you’d thrown yourself into just to get her back. The helplessness you felt when you finally decided to call Colter. And, of course, there was Russell blowing back into your life like a hurricane, as if you hadn’t just spent years avoiding him.

They’d saved her. Saved both of you, really. And for all the hurt and confusion between you and Russell, you couldn’t deny that he had stepped up when it mattered most.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. 

The door creaked open, and Anna’s familiar auburn hair peeked in first. Her eyes softened when they landed on you and Emma. She slipped inside, moving quietly not to wake Emma, and behind her came Russell, lugging two heavy sports bags.

Anna came straight to you, her arms wrapping around you tightly as soon as she reached your side. You returned the hug, letting her warmth chase away a fraction of the chill that had washed over your skin.

“God, I was so worried. So, so, so worried.” she whispered with a voice heavily trembling.

“I know, I– I’m so sorry” you murmured. “I was too. Did Russell tell you?”

She pulled back just enough to look at you. “Yeah, he briefed me” she said as her hands were still gripping your arms. “Don’t worry, I put him in his place” she said and Russell rolled his eyes at that. She really did, the whole car ride had been a rather tense experience.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have t–”

“Stop” Anna cut you off, smoothing a hand over your hair like she used to when you were kids. “Of course, I did.”

Her eyes slid to Russell, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She knew you two had so many things to talk about, but – for obvious reasons – she didn’t want to leave you with him. On the ride here, Russell tried to explain everything. And by everything, he meant everything. His line of work, the reason you were brought to your sister’s house that night four and a half years ago, and the real reason Emma was taken. To say Anna hadn’t taken it well was an understatement. But even in her anger, she couldn’t miss the regret in his voice, or the way he spoke about Emma – like she was the most precious thing in his world, even though he barely knew her. That, more than anything, made her hesitate.

Anna’s gaze darted to Russell, who was mindlessly unpacking one of the bags she’d hurriedly thrown together, then back to you.

With a reluctant sigh, she said, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Her voice carried the weight of a thousand unspoken warnings, all of them aiming directly at Russell. “I brought the essentials,” she added, nodding toward the duffels by the door. “I’ll be outside. Need to call Mom and Dad anyway.”

“Thanks, Anna”

She gave you a small, tight smile and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to Emma’s forehead. Without another word, she stepped out of the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Russell. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, not this time.

Russell cleared his throat, abandoning the duffels mid-unpack, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Thank you” you said quietly, your voice softer than you’d expected.

“For what?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t have a specific answer, really. There was too much to thank him for.

Bringing you here to make sure you and Emma were safe, for one.

At the diner, he’d distracted Emma with soothing words and a little game – like connecting with her was the most natural thing in the world. That moment had surprised you, even warmed you.

And then, of course, there was the big thing. The thing that mattered most. He and his brother had risked their lives to save Emma. Your child. Your entire world.

Sure, he was partly the reason Emma had been in danger to begin with. But after everything, could you really hold that against him? Not more than you blamed yourself, anyway. He hadn’t even known about her, let alone that she could be used as a pawn to hurt him. That part? That was on you. You’d made the decision to keep quiet about your pregnancy, letting your own hurt and anger drown out better judgment.

Really, both of you had made mistakes. He hadn’t told you what his real job was. You hadn’t told him he was going to be a father. And now, here you were – two people who had made a mess, trying to pick up the pieces.

“How is she?” Russell asked, his gaze landing on Emma. His voice was steady, but you could hear the waves of guilt underneath like a howling ocean.

“She’s... okay” you said, letting out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in your chest for days. “Physically, at least. The rest? That’s going to take time.”

He nodded but his jaw worked like he was trying to grind his regret into dust. “She’ll get through this…She’s strong. Like her mom.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in his words. For a second, the fortress you’d built around yourself wavered.

Hell, who were you kidding? That thing had crumbled the second Emma was back in your arms.

“I don’t know about that” you admitted.

“I do” he said, stepping a little closer, careful. “I saw it. These last few days... you didn’t stop. You didn’t back down. Not even when I showed up and probably made everything ten times harder.”

Your chest tightened, and you glanced down at your hands. They were still trembling, like your body hadn’t gotten the memo that the worst was over.

“I was terrified, Russell. Every second, I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d never see her again.”

“But you didn’t” he said, sitting beside you like he belonged there. After a beat of silence, he added, “Because you fought for her. And when it came down to it, we fought for her together.”

That last word hit you like a gentle nudge to the heart. Together. You lifted your eyes to meet his, and for the first time in longer than you cared to admit, you saw something there you hadn’t let yourself see before. Honesty. Regret. And maybe... hope?

“I don’t even know how to thank you” you said, your voice soft. “You and your brother. I don’t even know where to start. I can’t—”

“Don’t” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I just... I had to. For her. For you.”

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. “You saved her, Russell. That means everything to me.”

He leaned forward, his hand hovering near yours, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to close the gap. “I’d do it again. A thousand times over.”

The silence between you stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was thick with all the things neither of you were ready to say but couldn’t deny anymore.

Finally, you reached out and your fingers brushed his calloused hands. “Stay” you whispered. “We’ve got a lot to figure out, but... I’d like you to stay. At least until she wakes up.”

The corners of his lips tugged up slightly, almost like he wanted to smile but thought better of it.

“I can do that.”

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You can’t remember when or how you drifted off, and you certainly can’t remember how you got into the bed beside Emma’s. For a moment, you were completely disoriented, like a GPS that lost signal. Your ears perked up at the sound of the TV, the familiar voice of Don Messick’s echoing through the room like an old friend. Was that Scooby-Doo you were hearing? Had you and Emma watched so much of it that now your brain was hallucinating talking dogs in your sleep?

You slowly peaked one eye open, then the other, dopiness sweeping through your system. You had to blink a couple before the blurry sight became clear in front of you.

There was Emma, sitting up on her bed, her eyes glued to the hospital TV in the corner, watching a rerun of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? She was making soft, nonsensical sounds that barely registered to you in your half-awake state. 

And next to her, there was Russell, lying on his side with his head propped up on one arm, also mumbling. Emma’s head was nestled against his torso, her small body curled up in a cozy little ball next to his as she clutched the Scooby plushie Anna must have packed for her. They were both completely absorbed in the episode, their voices blending together in what could only be described as an animated commentary on the show.

You tried to make sense of what they were saying, but their words were a jumble to you – intelligible to them, maybe, but not to your sleep-fogged brain.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize the episode they were watching: Decoy for a Dognapper.

Of course. Emma was a Scooby fan. You and her know all the episodes by heart at this point, so much that Scooby-Doo was practically a second language in your house. And it seemed like Russell had caught on too, or at least, he’d been swept into the Scooby-verse by default. The two of them were so wrapped up in their conversation, they didn’t even notice you were awake.

“No way! She won’t? Why not? A dog is awesome” Russell said, his voice carrying the first full sentence your foggy mind could grasp.

“She says I’m too young” Emma replied, snuggling closer to his side as though the injustice of it all was just simply too much to bear.

“Too young? That’s ridiculous. What does that even mean?” Russell shot back, his tone scandalized for comedic effect. “Dogs don’t care how old you are. They care if you’ve got snacks and ear scratchin’ in store for ‘em.”

Emma giggled. “Mom doesn’t wanna pick up poop.”

Russell tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, if I remember correctly, your mom was seriously considering getting a dog a few years ago.”

At that, you sat up with a groan. “Really, Russell?” 

It was true, he and you both knew it. About five or so years ago, you’d gone on and on about adopting a dog – all the goddamn time. Russell had endured countless rants about breeds, shelters, and the pros and cons of pet ownership. Now, the smirk on his face told you he was thoroughly enjoying throwing it back in your face. Payback’s a bitch, huh?

Both of them turned to look at you. Emma with her wide-eyed, angelic innocence, and Russell with a grin that was downright infuriating in its smugness.

“Morning” he greeted with a widening grin. “We were just discussing the tragic lack of a dog in Emma’s life. Care to defend yourself?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Emma chimed in with an emboldened voice by her new ally. “Why can’t I have one?”

You rubbed your temples, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Because you’re too young, and I know exactly how that would end. I’d be the one walking it, feeding it, and cleaning up after it, dealing with everything.”

Russell raised a brow, looking way too amused. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind the idea a couple of years ago.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t make her think she has backup in this, Russ.”

“Too late” he said, leaning back with a grin. “Team Dog is officially in full force, yeah?”

Emma threw her hands in the air triumphantly, flashing you the biggest grin. “Team Dog!”

You groaned, but the warmth bubbling in your chest betrayed you. It wasn’t just the banter – it was seeing them like this, bonding over something silly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Emma looked like a carefree kid again. 

You narrowed your eyes at Russell, fully expecting another smug remark when he suddenly looked... hesitant. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight on the bed like a man about to drop a bombshell.

“What?” you asked, immediately suspicious.

“Well” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “don’t freak out, but... your parents are here. They got here a couple hours ago while you were out. Anna called them, I guess. She must’ve worked her magic because, well... let’s just say I was fully prepared to be murdered the second they walked in.”

Your hand flew to your forehead as you groaned, visions of your parents tearing into Russell flashing through your mind.

You didn’t tell them about him being here yet… and you guess it was already too late.

Your dad would be loud about it, your mom quieter but somehow more terrifying. You could only imagine the list of grievances they had ready for him. You just hoped they didn’t cause a scene in front of the whole hospital – and most importantly, in front of Emma.

“Wait” you narrowed your eyes. “They’re not trying to kill you? What did Anna even say to make that happen?”

“I think she went with the ‘he saved Emma’ card. Pretty sure your mom’s exact words were, ‘Well, I suppose I won’t bury him under the hydrangeas... yet.’”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted. It was just so her. “Sounds about right. And dad?”

Russell winced theatrically. “Your dad... definitely gave me the look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m debating whether you’re worth the jail time.’ But he hasn’t thrown any punches yet, so I’ll count that as a win.”

Emma tilted her head, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why does Grandma and Grandpa wanna hurt Russell? He’s so nice!”

The room went so quiet you could hear the faint hum of the hospital machinery. Russell froze, looking at you for backup, but you were too busy giving him a look – the universal signal for you started this, buddy, now deal with it.

“Well, sweetheart” he said slowly, scratching his head. “They don’t actually want to hurt me. It’s just... a joke. You know, like when people say they’re gonna kill someone, but they don’t really mean it?”

Emma gave him a serious look, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “But why? What did you do?”

You sighed, realizing there was no easy way out of this. “Sweetie” you began gently, “it’s kind of a long story. But Grandma and Grandpa are just... protective. They’re not mad at Russell anymore. Or at least, not much.”

Emma’s curious gaze ping-ponged between the two of you. “Why?”

“Okay” you said, sitting on the edge of Emma’s bed and taking a deep breath. “The thing is... Russell didn’t do anything bad. Not really. It’s just... well, a long time ago, before you were born, Russell and I used to–”

“Date…” Russell interjected, apparently deciding to rip the band-aid off.

Emma’s eyes widened. “Date? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “Like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

She stared at the two of you, her little brows furrowing as she processed this new information. Then her face lit up with excitement. “Were you married?”

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes” you said, holding up your hands. “No, we were not married. We just... used to be together.”

Emma tilted her head again, her expression now puzzled. “Then why are Grandma and Grandpa angry at Russell?”

Russell chuckled nervously. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, kiddo. They’re just... protective of your mom.”

“Very protective” you muttered. You took a deep breath, preparing for the big reveal. “Sweetheart, here’s the thing. After Russell and I stopped being boyfriend and girlfriend… I found out that you were already growing in my belly.”

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her mouth forming a perfect O at your carefully selected words. “You mean… like when babies are in tummies?”

You were trying to keep your tone light as you nodded. “Exactly like that.”

Emma tilted her head, her little brow furrowed as she worked it out in her mind. “So… that means… Russell’s my daddy?”

Russell smiled, his heart visibly melting. “Yeah.”

Emma blinked at him, then at you, then back at him, as though she was piecing together the most important puzzle of her life. After a moment of silence, her face broke into a huge grin. “YAY! I have a daddy!”

Emma scooted closer to Russell, wrapping her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re my daddy now! That means you have to stay forever!”

Russell’s eyes glistened, and he hugged her back tightly. “I’ll be here as much as I can, I promise.”

Emma pulled back slightly, her face lighting up with another burst of excitement. She turned her wide, sparkling eyes up at Russell. “Can we get a dog now, Daddy?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh, for the love of – Emma!”

“What?” she said innocently, looking between you and Russell. “You said no before ‘cause it was just you! But now Daddy can help with the poop!”

Russell burst out laughing, clearly enjoying this too much. “She’s got a point, you know.”

You shot him a look that could have frozen water. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Team Dog!” Emma giggled and Russell ruffled her hair affectionately, somehow steering her to sit back down and continue their Scooby-Doo marathon.

Despite yourself, you took a deep breath, still trying to get your head around the unexpected turn of events.

This was... a lot.

But for some reason, it didn’t feel as overwhelming as it should. Sure, it had been a complete curveball to drop the whole Russell-is-your-dad bombshell, but Emma’s bright smile, the way she’d lit up at the news, somehow made it all feel like it could work.

As Emma giggled, you let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t how you thought this conversation would go, but somehow, it was already starting to feel a little more like a family.

A very unusual family.

But a family nonetheless.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 8):

Still, Russell had clearly decided that proximity was his job. He was there nearly every day, and on more than a few nights, too. 

“Just in case” he’d say. You didn’t know, but he loved staying there when the both of you were sound asleep. During those times, he felt an indescribable peace. 

And then there was his latest obsession: fixing everything. It started innocently enough – he noticed a cabinet door hanging loose and gave it a quick tune-up. Then he spotted the wobbly bathroom doorknob. Before long, the guy was like a one-man Home Depot commercial, patching up squeaks and quirks you hadn’t even realized were annoying you.

And at first, you didn’t even notice. But one day, you walked into the kitchen, and something felt... off. Not bad-off, just different. Quieter. 

The cupboards didn’t bang shut anymore, the sticky drawer slid like butter, and that creaky floorboard by the living room? Silent. It was like Russell had decided that if he couldn’t fix all your problems, he’d settle for conquering your house.

And the worst part? It was kind of working.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

I might have giggled all the way while writing it, or maybe I didn’t. But hey, Emma has a dad!

Chapter 8 coming soon...

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never

[fluxweeed]

hi i'm a grouchy old hag muttering to myself in my hut in the woods

1. not everyone finds it hurtful to find out that people are discussing their fic in private discord servers or on tiktok, actually. i for one passionately don't care that people aren't only mentioning my fic where i can see it. ofc i'm curious when one fic gets a sudden unexplained boost in kudos for a few days. am i HURT that i don't know exactly where the new readers are coming from? am i upset that the boost in hits/kudos isn't accompanied with a flurry of praise? am i sad that i can't jump into the discussion? i am not.

2. the messaging of "okay but you wouldn't post the fic if you didn't enjoy validation" makes me want to delete my ao3 immediately kasdjhfg. people post things for all sorts of reasons thank u!! my personal motivation is i'm trying to make myself feel better about making imperfect things!! the idea that by posting fic i'm inherently coming across as seeking praise makes me want to throw up. (since this discussion started, i've considered disabling comments on my fic for this reason – but i'm worried that move is so non-standard that it'll end up coming across even MORE that i want attention, so i haven't taken the plunge yet)

3. i also pretty firmly disagree with "commenting on fic builds community!" (i made this joke in a grouchy bluesky rant already so if u saw that pretend u didn't) but personally i feel the community spirit when i'm in a server discussing which weasley has the biggest dick (percy). i don't feel it when people are being nice to me in my fic's comments. i'd almost go as far as to say community CAN'T be built when one person is praising another bc there's an inherent imbalance. sure, writers can mutually read and comment on each other's fic and become friends/community co-members that way, but what if u don't write? who's in YOUR comments telling u how great u are? idk about anyone else, but when i am in a community space (like a discord server) and someone starts being nice about my fic, i feel awkward. the focus shifts from a shared enjoyment onto something inherently UNshared, because one person is the creator and the others are readers. that's not to say that these interactions shouldn't happen, but imo it's disingenuous to say that's the core of fandom community.

4. i really can't stress enough how crazy it makes writers when they're writing for praise/validation. i've had conversations with very well-known drarry writers where they've been genuinely upset that nobody is reading their fic (the fic in question had hundreds of comments). i've had conversations with people who take part in fests, only to continually sort the works by stats and feel awful that theirs isn't at the top. i've had conversations with people who have had multiple devastating life events happen to them so they're struggling to write, and the lack of New Fic Comment Validation makes them feel 10x worse. i can't help but feel like if you ARE posting for feedback (or "recognition" or however you want to package it), it's genuinely not good for your brain.

5. obviously there's nuance to all of this! it's a big topic! but notice how we're talking about it on tumblr, not in ao3 comments. it would probably be even more productive in a discord server. in a voice chat. you know – fandom community spaces like that.

6. can y'all keep the next round of discussions to like 700 words max pls lmao i have stuff to do

[myusuchaa]

with you in a distorted fairy tale ༻¨*:·.

'dark if ' chapter 2 - elbert greetia

<- Chapter 1

This is a fan translation and may not be 100% accurate. I do not own anything. Cybird reserves the right of ownership for all in-game content.

author's note: Throughout this story, Kate refers to Elbert with feminine pronouns 彼女, and Elbert's title is the Queen 女王. Therefore, in sentences where Elbert is the main subject, sometimes you will see Elbert's pronouns listed as she/her. (i.e, "Elbert removed her hands"). This may be a bit confusing to read through, but I wanted to keep the translation as accurate and close to the original material as possible.

Mirror Alfons: I've come to see the Princes gathered here--... Ah, no well, to see what was going on, but...

Mirror Alfons: My dear Elbert and Miss Kate, why on earth are you two so exhausted?

Mirror Alfons: Not to mention, I don't even see any Princes around.

Kate: Ah, those who came here all posed some type of problem, so we've asked each and every one of them to leave.

Some of them actually went after Queen Elbert, others were after the gold and silver treasures of this castle, and still others were only interested in picking up the maids.

To top it all off, the moment I was alone with a suitor, he tried to attack me.... the list just goes on and on.

Queen Elbert: All the men we called here today have been rejected.

Mirror Alfons: My goodness, what an utter failure. Well, at least Miss Kate seems somewhat alright.

Kate: Whenever there was a problem, Queen Elbert would step in.

Queen Elbert: I didn't think a single one of those men would make you more beautiful.....

Kate: Exactly! Yes, thank you Queen Elbert...

If I thanked him, Elbert would smile at me.

To be honest, I don't remember any of the faces of the men I met today. Elbert's smile was just so dazzling... I was sure I'd never forget it.....

Mirror Alfons: Oh my... you two are staring at each other quite passionately. You two must have become quite close, no?

Mirror Alfons: Why, when I picked you up, you had all your hair standing on their ends, much like a stray cat.

Kate: Well... when you took me in, I mistakenly thought that Queen Elbert was a scary person.

I was wary of Elbert because there was a possibility that he would harm me, just like the true fairy tale story.

Kate: But, after spending more time with her, it became very apparent that Queen Elbert is a nice and kind person.

Kate: How could I not fall in love.... with someone like Elbert?

Queen Elbert: .....thank you, Kate.

Kate: It would be amazing if Elbert was actually a prince...

Since Lady Elbert was a Queen, that would be impossible. And if someone as wonderful as she were to appear before me, I would choose him as my prince with no hesitation.

I mumbled these thoughts to myself....

Queen Elbert: Thank you Kate.... to be admired in such a way, by you.... makes me happy.

Queen Elbert: And... the way you are trying so earnestly to find your prince, makes you seem radiant....

Queen Elbert: I feel like I'm getting closer to finding the most beautiful thing in the world that I desire.

I was once again captivated by a happy Elbert's exquisite smile.

(...aahhh no! I have to find my prince! I don't have any time to be attracted to the Queen!)

I was desperate to calm my pounding heart, which was beating wildly on its own.

Kate: Ahem, well.. In any case, I'll try my best to find my prince again starting tomorrow.

--time skip--

The search for the Prince lasted several days, only to end with fruitless results.

Queen Elbert: Let's take a break from searching for princes today.

While finishing breakfast, Elbert spoke up.

Kate: Yeah, we should... we won't find anyone at all if it keeps up at this rate.

(If this is the turn out so far, then no doubt what is missing from this story is the Prince.)

(To straighten out the story, I think it would be best to find someone to just fill in as the "missing Prince".)

(The Prince huh.....)

I unconsciously looked over at Elbert, who was having breakfast at the opposite side of the table.

(No, noo... She is a Queen!! She can't be a prince!!!!....)

Queen Elbert: ....Kate? You look gloomy.... is something wrong?

Kate: No not at all! It's just troubling, not being able to find the Prince.

(It was such a shame that Elbert couldn't become the Prince... and more so that I can't say that out loud.)

I put on a silly smile to cover up my thoughts.

After studying my face for some time, Elbert softly spoke.

Queen Elbert: Since we are not searching for princes today... I would be delighted if you join me in browsing for new clothes for you. If you'd like...

--after the tailor brings a catalogue--

Kate: Waaaoow!

After breakfast, Elbert showed me to a room filled with dresses and jewelry.

Tailor: Thank you very much for your order this time.

Tailor: We have a ride range of items today, from trendy articles to designs that have been loved for ages.

Tailor: Please let us know if you need help in trying on any of the items.

Kate: Heheh... Lady Elbert, anything here would look good on you!

Queen Elbert: Ah, no, not now... Today, I am choosing your new dress.

Kate: M- mine?!

Queen Elbert: A new dress will surely help you find your prince.

Queen Elbert: Plus, I thought this would be a nice change of pace for you...

(Oh... I think Elbert is trying to cheer me up because I'm feeling down since I can't find a prince.)

(.....what an extremely kinda person...)

Kate: Aah.. thank you so very much, Elbert!!

Kate: Since this is a rare opportunity, I'll take you up on your offer!

My heart is filled with Elbert's consideration for me, and just thinking about it makes me feel better.

Then, after looking at some dresses with Elbert, I decided to buy one that I particularly liked.

Queen Elbert: ....just one dress?

Kate: Yes, and it's plenty! Thank you for everything.

To treat me, Snow White, so very well.... Queen Elbert is certainly different from the Queen of the original story.

(Maybe this... is a direct consequence of the distorted fairy tale?)

As long as I could remain by the kind Elbert's side, maybe I would be alright staying trapped here...

I then shook my head to clear away the selfish thoughts that crossed my mind.

Kate: By the way, why don't you pick out a new dress too, Lady Elbert?

Kate: Or next time, please allow me to find one for you!

Queen Elbert: Oh, no I-......

Elbert lowered her eyes in confusion, but I think she was just being reserved.

I looked around the room at all the dresses lined up. Then-

Kate: Look, what about this one, Elbert? I think this would look great on you.

Tailor: Ah- pardon me for intruding but... Miss.. that clothing is for men..

Tailor: Even though the Queen is indeed the type of person that could look good in anything, this is... a bit...

Kate: Eh?! *looks at the clothing she is holding* A-aaahh yes... you are very right.... please excuse what I said!

(Truly, the outfit I chose is clearly a man's outfit from every angle.....) [1]

[1] Here, signs are showing of Alfons's power weakening and Kate getting confused at what is true/what she is seeing. She is outwardly agreeing that Elbert is a woman, but her instincts sense and feel Elbie to be a man.

(Why exactly did I think this would suit Elbert so well??)

(Even though Elbert is clearly a "woman".)

Queen Elbert: Kate. I appreciate your thoughts, but I like my current clothes, so I don't think... I need anything new....

Kate: Oh is that so..

Queen Elbert: I'm so sorry.. even though you took the time to choose something...

Kate: Oh no! Sorry for being so intrusive...

In the end, Elbert only bought a dress for me, and nothing for herself.

--after dinner--

When returning to my room after eating dinner, Alfons called out to me.

Mirror Alfons: I heard that, apparently, you were trying to buy some men's clothes for Elbert.

Kate: Oh.. at that time, I thought those men's clothes would look good on her.

Kate: ..... That's strange, isn't it? Lady Elbert is a beautiful woman......

Mirror Alfons: Yes, that is strange indeed. "Lady Elbert is a beautiful woman."

As he agreed with my sentiment, Alfons removed his gloves and stroked the back of my neck.

Kate: ....? What.. what was that, suddenly....

Mirror Alfons: You started speaking strangely, so strangely that I thought you had a fever.... alas, your temperature was normal.

Kate: Normally, you don't check the temperature for a fever at the nape of the neck....

Although I was confused by Alfons's behavior, ultimately it was Elbert that occupied all the space in my mind.

Kate: ...Alfons, why is it that Elbert collects beautiful things?

Mirror Alfons: That's an easy question to answer, though, well.. I'm not sure if I should answer it.

Kate: Hmm, as I thought.....

Mirror Alfons: *unsettled* 'As you thought'...?

Kate: When Elbert says she likes collecting beautiful things, she sounds desperate and... painful...

Kate: It didn't seem like she was just collecting things just because she liked to.

It almost felt like she was forcing herself into a corner and exacting punishment by having to find something beautiful.

Kate: So, I'm glad to know there are at least some circumstances as to why it's difficult to say so..

Kate: I will be sure not to ask Elbert herself why she collects them...

Mirror Alfons: And so, you decided to ask me beforehand.

Kate: Yes. I was sure even attempting to bring it up would hurt Elbert's feelings.

Mirror Alfons: .......

Mirror Alfons: ..........maybe you can heal El's wounds.

Kate: ...what?

Mirror Alfons: ..I've changed my mind. Let me show you.. the truth.

Saying that, Alfons handed me a key.

--scene switch--

I went to the location Alfons told me about and used the key to open the door.

(What hides in the basement of this castle...?)

Alfons told me to use the key to get into this room, but nothing more.

(I guess one can tell just by looking at it but... it's freezing cold down here..)

Rubbing my numb hands together, I had walked a few steps into the stone room when I spotted something.

(Is that... a coffin?)

In the center of the room was a gorgeous coffin made of glass.

(In the original story, the one in the glass coffin is supposed to be Snow White.... me...)

I was almost frightened at the scene, but I managed to endure it and take another step, peering into the coffin.

(Who is inside this...?)

The coffin bed was covered in flowers and a woman was lying on top of it.

(An extremely beautiful woman...)

And I was sure she was dead, for she wasn't moving at all.

It was so beautiful that I lost all sense of being scared.

(But why is there a body in Queen Elbert's castle...?)

Queen Elbert: ...Who is there?

Kate: ..!!!

Queen Elbert: Kate...? Why? Why are you here..??

Seeing me standing in front of the coffin, Queen Elbert's face stiffened.

Kate: Th-.. well that's... I-.. Alfons gave me this key, and then I...

Queen Elbert: Al, huh...

Kate: Elbert... who is this woman?

<- Chapter 1 Premium End -> coming soon

page dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[laurenairay]

A reason to start over new - T. Jost

Summary: It’s been five years since Lucy has seen her ex-boyfriend Tyson. Can his grandparents’ Christmas party fix their broken hearts?

Happy birthday @senditcolton! This is my fic for your birthday bingo – I had a lot of fun with this one! I chose The Hand Touch, Exes to Lovers, Free Space (Resolved Angst), “You’re Too Good for Me”, and Winter Romance, making it a full bingo! Hope you have a wonderful day Nicole.

A massive thank you to @jostyriggslover96 for reading through this!

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, flashback to breakup, some bad language, self-deprecation.

Title from The Reason, by Hoobastank

~

I've found a reason for me, To change who I used to be, A reason to start over new, And the reason is you.

~

“Oh wow, Val and Jim have really outdone themselves this year, haven’t they?”

Lucy glanced around at the Christmas decorations surrounding them, smiling at her mom’s words.

“Full of holiday cheer, as always!” she nodded.

She took off her thick coat and gloves, glad to be out of the icy air, hanging them up on the rack put out for guests.

“Now honey, if it’s too much, you can slip out back and head home, okay?” her mom said seriously, albeit quietly.

“You said that last year. And the year before that. For the last five years, actually,” Lucy mused.

“And I’ve meant it every year. They might be our neighbours, but you are my baby. And my priority, always,” her mom said seriously.

Not for the first time, Lucy was thankful to have the mom she did.

“And I appreciate it. But I’m going to be fine,” she said, smiling fondly.

“Alright, if you’re sure. You just send me a sneaky text if you change your mind though, yes?”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” Lucy beamed.

The Christmas Eve Party thrown by her neighbours was a tradition she’d attended her entire life, and even though she hadn’t dated their grandson in half a decade, Val and John had always insisted that she still came along. A lingering effect of being childhood sweethearts, she supposed.

“Amy! Gary! Lucy!”

The welcome from their neighbours was warm and effervescent as it always was, and soon enough Lucy found herself swept in by conversation and catching up. She may have gone to college in UBC Okanagan in Kelowna for both her degrees, barely away from home, but she’d lived in campus residence for all four years of her bachelor’s degree and moved out of her parents’ house properly into a small apartment near campus for her master’s degree. It would’ve been easy to move home after guaranteed accommodation ended, but Lucy had wanted to keep the independence she had grown to love, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t visit her parents at least every other weekend.

But it was still nice to be able to talk about her accomplishments with the people that she’d grown up alongside, especially now that she was in the final year of her master’s degree and looking like she was on track for starting the PhD she’d always aimed for.

After a couple of hours, she escaped the crowds in the living and dining areas, grateful for the sanctuary of the kitchen. There were a few plates of cookies and other Christmas treats laid out, and Lucy couldn’t resist reaching out for a snickerdoodle…

…at the exact time as someone else.

She jumped in surprise as a large hand rested on top of hers, not realising anyone was next to her, but as she looked up, she couldn’t but to freeze despite the warmth of his touch. Tyson. It was Tyson’s hand touching hers.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I…Lucy?”

“Hey Tys,” she managed to breathe.

The familiar curls, the big beautiful eyes, the sweet smile, and now a little bit of stubble? He looked good. Of course he looked good.

Tyson quickly drew his hand away from hers, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Uh, you have it, I shouldn’t be eating baked goods too much anyway,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

Lucy pursed her lips and broke a third of the snickerdoodle off, handing it to Tyson with a raised eyebrow. Tyson huffed out a laugh but accepted the offered treat, sending her a small smile of thanks. Fuck, it may have been five years since they broke up, but he really hadn’t changed, had he?

“So, uh, you still come to these parties?” Tyson asked.

Lucy bit her bottom lip but nodded.

“Yeah, your grandparents insist. I hope that’s okay,” she winced.

“Of course it is,” Tyson said quickly, “They always loved you.”

Well that was something at least. Why did this feel so awkward? Sure, it had been five years since she’d seen Tyson, but they dated from eight years – surely they had more than this?

“I don’t usually come to these. Well, I guess you already know that, if you come every year. I, uh, I have the 24th to the 26th off this year, so I didn’t want to miss another Christmas with my grandparents,” Tyson explained.

“I bet Val and Jim were over the moon when you told them,” Lucy mused.

Tyson laughed softly, nodding. “They were. Mom and Kacey didn’t hesitate to come to Kelowna to join us, so it’s a big family Christmas this year.”

“That’s great, Tys. Really. Spending Christmas with your loved ones is important,” she said softly, smiling.

His smile dimmed a little, but he nodded.

“How’s, uh, how’s your degree going? Gramps said you’re doing a master’s now?”

He knew that? Did he ask? Or did Jim just tell him?

“Uh, yeah. I graduated my bachelor's degree magna cum laude back in 2020 and went straight into starting my graduate program there. I’m a paid teaching assistant for my supervisory professor too.”

“That’s incredible, Luce. Still doing Earth and Environmental Sciences?” Tyson prompted.

He remembered? After all this time?

“Yeah, yeah it is. Focusing in on environmental impact assessment for my master’s thesis,” she nodded, a little stunned, “I didn’t think…I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Of course I remember. You were always so passionate about your studies – it was one of the things I loved most about you,” he said softly.

“Tyson…” Lucy said faintly, trailing off when no words would come.

He smiled sadly at her, shaking his head.

“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you,” Tyson murmured.

~

2019

“So you can’t make it over?”

“No, Tys, I can’t, I have labs to do,” Lucy sighed.

“We haven’t seen each other in so long!”

“I can’t just not go to my classes because you want me in Denver! You know this!” she groaned.

“I know, I know, but it sucks.”

Lucy frowned, even though he couldn’t see her. “You’re the one who didn’t come home for Christmas, remember?”

“The schedule didn’t make sense, and I offered to fly you down?”

“Tyson!” she groaned.

He stayed silent on the other end of the phone, a silence that sent an ominous shiver down her spine.

“So where do we go from here?”

“W-What?” she said, confused at the dull tone of his voice.

“Your priority is college, my priority is hockey, and neither of us can compromise. I would never ask you to compromise, just like you wouldn’t ask me. We have different priorities, clearly. So where do we go from here?”

“Tyson, are you really saying what I think you’re saying?” she whimpered.

“Yeah, I think we should break up.”

“We’ve been together for eight years! You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, the only guy I’ve ever wanted. And you want to break up, just like that?”

“I don’t want to break up, Luce. But what other option do we have? Neither of us can give the other what we need right now. We have to focus on ourselves, don’t we? For our own careers? You have so much ahead of you and I can’t be there to celebrate it. And you can’t be by my side cheering me on from the stands. I love you, Lucy. But this isn’t working anymore.”

~

“Tyson, why would you say it like that? You think it’s been easy for me?” Lucy asked, throat a little choked.

“No, no, of course not,” he groaned.

“Then what do you mean?”

“Look, forget I said anything, okay? It was really good to see you, Luce.”

Before Lucy could say a word, Tyson walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen with her head spinning. What the hell was that?

For the final few hours of the party, Lucy indulged in a couple more glasses of wine than she intended, sticking solidly by her parents’ sides. She did her best to keep a smile on her face and ease into the Christmas festivity, even when Laura and Kacey said their hellos, but her mind just kept going back to Tyson.

“We’re going to start saying our goodbyes, okay honey? Why don’t you find all our coats.”

Lucy just nodded at her mom’s suggestion, grateful for the opportunity to escape the crowd. Well, she was grateful, until she saw Tyson sitting on the bench next to the coat rack, face flushed and eyes glassy. He was drunk, at least moderately so.

“Ah, fuck, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, voice slurring.

What did he mean by that?

“I’m just getting our coats. We’re heading out,” she murmured, trying to ignore the whoosh in her stomach.

“Already?”

“It’s nearly midnight, Tys,” she said, smiling wryly.

“Well, fuck. Time flies when you’re having whiskey, I guess,” he groaned, putting his empty glass on the bench next to him.

She huffed out a laugh, unhooking the coats when she finally spotted them.

“You look good, Luce,” he murmured, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

“I do?” she blurted.

Damn it.

But Tyson just grinned. “Yeah, you really do. You always looked good, but damn you’ve really settled into your own skin, eh?”

“I love who I am, yeah,” she nodded.

She wasn’t lying, or even placating. Her studies in environmental impact had opened up a whole new side of her she hadn’t even realised was there, and she loved everything about the person she’d become through it. She just hadn’t realised it was obvious on the outside.

Then again, if anyone was going to notice something like that about her, it was going to be Tyson, wasn’t it?

“You’re too good for me.”

Oh fuck.

“That’s not true. Not even slightly,” Lucy said, frowning.

“No? I can barely get a team to keep me, and you’re soaring ahead with your academic career, just like you deserve,” Tyson scoffed.

This was just the alcohol talking. It had to be.

“Tys, those teams are the ones missing out. You’re amazing,” she said softly.

He paused for a moment, before shaking his head.

“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”

Because he had to put hockey first.

Because she had to put college first.

Because neither of them were each other’s first choice.

“That’s not fair, Tyson. We were kids when we first started dating. Barely 13 years old. And we were together for eight years! We had an incredible relationship! It just…we wanted different things. Our priorities were different, our passions were different – we might have grown up together, but we’d also grown apart. Your life is hockey and my life is academics, and that’s okay! That doesn’t mean we didn’t have love, yeah?”

The way that Tyson’s eyes filled up with tears made her own eyes water, dangerous lump rising in her throat.

“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”

His soft words tore a sob from her throat and she shook her head. How could he be so cruel?

“Don’t say that. We made the right decision five years ago and you know it,” she whimpered.

Tyson’s face fell at her devastated expression, and he staggered to his feet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry,” he said sadly.

And yet here she was, broken hearted all over again.

“I should go. I need to go,” was all she could manage to choke out.

“Lucy, baby, please…”

But Lucy just shook her head, clutching the coats in her hands, shaky smile on her lips as the tears finally fell. “Merry Christmas, Tyson.”

~

“So what happened at the Christmas Eve Party that has you all torn up like this?”

Lucy flinched at her mom’s voice, turning her head to see her standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

“Uh huh, and I’m a fairy princess,” her mom snorted.

Lucy couldn’t help but giggle, earning a fond smile as her mom walked into the room and sat down next to her on her bed. Lucy placed a bookmark in the book she’d been reading to give her mom her full attention. She’d needed a little respite from all the preparations to hold her dad’s family for a late lunch, after all the intensity of having her mom’s family over yesterday on Christmas Day, but she’d found herself reliving her conversation with Tyson over and over.

“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”

“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”

So really, her mom coming up to talk to her was a welcome break from all of that as well.

“If you know it was the Christmas Eve Party then you can take a guess,” Lucy said, shrugging.

“I’d rather hear it from you, when Tyson’s involved,” her mom mused.

Well at least her mom was blunt about it.

“We had a couple of conversations, and it stirred up old emotions, old drama. He…mom, he said he’d go back and change it all if he could. That he’d always choose me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

Her mom blinked a couple of times, lips parted in a surprised, before she coughed out a laugh.

“Well I could never accuse Tyson of being subtle.”

“Mom, seriously. This is stressing me out. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Lucy groaned.

“I think that’s an answer in itself, sweetheart,” she said softly.

“What?”

Her mom stayed silent, just nudging Lucy with her shoulder, and Lucy nudged back out of habit. What did she mean, that was an answer in itself?

“Lucy, honey, if you can’t stop thinking about Tyson choosing you above everything else, that means something,” her mom eventually said with a huffed laugh.

“But how can it? He still has his hockey, and I still have academics. Neither of those are going to change any time soon,” Lucy said sadly.

Because at the end of the day, that was the bottom line of it all. Their priorities haven’t changed.

“Just because your both still have your passions doesn’t mean that they have to be your only love. You can have both,” her mom said firmly.

What?

“How can I have both?” Lucy asked, confused.

“Do you love him?” was all she said.

“What?” Lucy said, surprised.

“Do you love him?” her mom repeated.

Lucy opened her mouth, shutting it again before huffing out a laugh. There was only one answer to that.

“Yeah, I never stopped,” she replied.

“Then you can have both. You spent the last five years missing him, and I know damn well that that boy missed you too - neither of you deserve that for another second. You can have both,” her mom said decisively.

She could have both?

How could she have both?

“You love him.”

“I love him,” Lucy whispered.

“Go get him.”

Lucy whimpered as she looked into her mom’s eyes, but she only saw warmth and encouragement. Her mom was right. She loved Tyson. She loved Tyson and if seeing him again this Christmas had taught her anything, it was that she was stupid if she tried to deny how much she missed him. If she didn’t tell him now, when would she?

“He leaves today. I need to go now,” she said suddenly.

“Well damn, okay then. Put on a sweater and I’ll find your snow boots,” her mom grinned.

Lucy felt like she was in a haze as she walked as quickly down the street as was safe, heart pounding as she spotted Tyson loading bags into his grandpa’s car.

“Tyson!”

His head whipped around at her shout, eyes going wide as he saw her walking towards him. Tyson shuffled down the driveway, missing Jim’s fond smile as he himself went back into the house, and the moment that she was standing in front of him, Tyson cupped his hands over her elbows to steady her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I love you,” she breathed.

Tyson whimpered, but Lucy wasn’t discouraged, not when she saw the wonder that filled his expression.

“You love me?”

“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t stop thinking about everything you said the other night,” she blurted out.

“Luce, I’m sorry, I know I upset you but…”

“No, Tys, it’s okay,” Lucy said, shaking her head as she interrupted, “While I stand by what I said, that we made the right decision at the time, maybe we could make a different decision now?”

“What are you saying?”

She could understand his hesitation, really she could. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t coming out with this out of the blue, after five years of nothing at all. After five years of heartbreak and heartache. But her mom was right – she missed him so fiercely and she couldn’t bear the thought of him not knowing that.

“I want us to start over new. I never stopped loving you, not for one moment. We could have both. We could have our passions and our love, and I hate that it’s taken me this long to even consider that? I miss you and I love you and I know you’re heading to the airport to fly back to Raleigh, but tell me I’m not crazy for thinking we could do this?”

Tyson’s jaw dropped as he processed her long rant, and it was only his firm grip on her elbows that stopped her from giving up hope.

“That was a lot,” Tyson said.

She winced. “I know, but…”

“And you poured out a lot of emotion there,” he interrupted.

Lucy kept her mouth shut this time, as much as she wanted to beg him to say more.

“It’s been agony for five years, for so many reasons, but hearing you say that you love me and you want to give our relationship another shot? I just…”

Tyson trailed off, letting out a long breath.

“I understand if I’m too late,” she murmured.

But Tyson huffed out a laugh, raising one hand from her elbow to cup her face in a gentle motion that had her breath hitching in her throat.

“There is no world in which you’d be too late,” Tyson said softly.

“Really?”

“I love you too, Lucy. I never stopped either,” he murmured.

She couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that tumbled from her lips, smiling back up at Tyson as he smiled at her.

“We’re really doing this?” she asked, giddy.

“Yeah, baby, we are. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, or what it’s going to look like, but we’re both adult enough to know how to put in more effort this time round right, yeah? I’ll fly home for the all-star break, and I’ll fly you out for spring break, and we’ll have video calls that neither of us are going to miss. And everything else. We’re going to make it work this time,” he said, tone serious but face grinning.

“And we’re going to communicate, yeah? When one of us is finding it hard? We’ll find little compromises, as we can’t do the big compromises. We’re worth it,” Lucy added, not caring that her cheeks were aching with her smile.

“Yeah, we are. I love you, so much Lucy,” Tyson grinned.

“I love you too.”

Tyson didn’t waste any time in leaning down to press his lips to hers, their last first kiss.

[iblameashley]

Okay... I need to get some thoughts out...

To anyone who hasn't watched the end of Arcane, you may want to skip this. To be kind to y'all, but put my thoughts under the cut.

I really want to start off by saying that I actually did like Arcane! But like with most things, now that I have had time to reflect... I have feelings. And where better to get them out than Tumblr / screaming into the void.

They amusing thing to me about Arcane is that, for all its progressive themes, it still manages to fumble (from my point of view), gay representation. Gay men, specifically...

But as an Old Gay™ who has lived through so many TV shows that bypass, imply, nod, wink and nudge at gay relationships, if not flat out kill the gays and deny them a happy ending; I'm tired of implied gay men.

Lets start with Old Man Yaoi™

So in the alternate universe we get a glimpse of what is heavily implied to be two old gay (or Bi) men happy together.

I know some people might look at it and be like 'you're looking too closely at this, they're just friends now.' but... There is only one thing written more homoerotically and we'll get to that later.

Once again, all we are given is gentle touches, smiles and glances. And that can be fine sometimes. But its all implied and subtle. We have a whole dance scene with Ekko and Jinx, but they could have had Vander and Silco in the background dancing as well? We could have gotten a tender kiss?

We were given lesbian sex in a jail cell, but two gay men having a loving an intimate moment was too much? Of course it was. Lesbians are the safe option. They're always the safe option in TV when you want to have gay relationships. (This is not to say that lesbians get a 100% free pass, or don't have backlash! I simply mean that TV producers feel more confident including lesbians over gay men in media).

And of course we have Jayvik

I read on the other (hell) site that the creators of Arcane never intended to make Jayce and Viktor an item. I don't follow the creators and have no intention of looking it up, but lets be honest... this shit was so homoerotic.

But once again, things are mostly just implied or alluded to.

Would I have loved for them to kiss? Yes. Did I need them to kiss? No.

The gentle touches and looks were nice, for sure. I enjoy the intimacy of the moment, but we couldn't even get an 'I love you' with the actual words.

It feels like, once again, we can't have two men confess they love each other (even if it was platonic) because that would just be too much. Instead we get another repeat of "I want my partner back."

And then of course they explode into... something. Of course they could have simply changed states of being, or something. But its frustrating to always see gay men (viewers) get the short end of the stick once again. I'm tired of having to settle for implied romances or confessions of love from two men.

Anyway. I still loved both seasons of the show overall, but I just needed to let some of my frustrations out. I will now return to being delusional and throwing myself into the fandom to get more gay content that TV still hesitates to provide me with.

As an Aside... Loris deserved better!

I want this man in ways I cannot accurately express on this site. (I'd give this babygirl all the peanuts he'd want)

Thank you for reading my little gay rant. I feel better having typed things out a bit, even if I didn't cover every one of my intrusive thoughts in this post.

[violetasteracademic]

Rambling thoughts post. Won't delete.

I learned a long time ago to stop commenting on the state of the ship war/ SJM fandom as a whole and asking people to be kinder, and anyone who has followed me for a while (which sounds silly to say since I've only been here since March) has likely witnessed my slow disillusionment of the SJM fandom space. As my therapist said, if you keep trying to clean up debris in someone's house who refuses to fix their roof, you'll drain yourself for nothing. (That was about my ex husband but hey I think it applies here.) I've also realized that in the long run, individual creators don't matter, really. There are too many creators in this space who burn out and disappear and even if it upsets or disappoints people in the moment, there is always someone to replace them. I'm very replaceable. My thoughts really don't matter. But here they are anyway.

The SJM tumblr space is extremely hostile and negative. But it isn't all hostile and negative, and the more I filter out the shipwar content and anti content (seriously, I have filters on anti elriel, anti gwynriel, anti elucien, and shipwar buzzwords like delusional, reading comprehension, touch grass, ECT and thank you to my dear friend @yourstarsmyscars for showing me how much more the filters can do than I realized!) the more free I am to see how many kind and wonderful creators there are on here making cute art and amazing fanfics and nourishing a positive fandom ecosystem.

Again, I don't matter in the long run. I'm not sure how many people even still follow me really since I've stopped engaging in the shipwars beyond art, fics, and kind posts. But I do want to let anyone out there who, like me, has had their tolerance for the ship wars plummet to the core of the earth, break through the crust in the middle of the Pacific ocean, and then drift into space, know that there IS kindness in this fandom beyond the noise. There are people doing great work on all sides, who are welcoming to all, and just trying to create something people will enjoy.

I can't say I'll be here forever, or even much longer. But I feel moved to signal boost the positivity. I also know that, although I do believe I tried very hard to be positive and not insulting the majority of the time, I had days that I let the negativity get to me and I was snarkier than I wish I would have been. I'm truly sorry if I ever made a post that even remotely hurt anyone's feelings or added to the negativity. I'd go back and delete them, but frankly they are my most popular posts and still get reblogged so it feels sort of pointless since reblogs don't get deleted.

Although I am an Elriel in my heart of hearts, I want to continue to be a welcoming space for all. If that means my followers get cut in half or only a few people interact with my posts, that's okay with me. I can't try to patch the roof of the fandom, but I can keep my own space toasty and warm for anyone looking for reprieve, regardless of who you ship. I've stated multiple times here that I'm the only Elriel in my IRL friendships, and I love my friends dearly. I tried to speak to Tumblr as a whole the way I'd speak to them, and I didn't always do that. But the world is too abysmal and scary and a lot of SJM fans come online and struggle to find a space that isn't extremely hostile and negative.

Here's to all the goofy little spooks making art, fics, texts, and transcending the shipwars and just trying to connect over the things we love.

In the words of our Lord and Savior Taylor Swift, I want to be defined by the things I love, not the things I hate.

Also still committed to writing a banger Elain Lucien and Azriel throuple once I get through my laundry list of current fics. Maybe a quadruple with Gwyn. Maybe I'll just write a giant orgy, actually.

[world0fmadness]

LOVE, THROUGH PEN AND PAPER

okay so i really wrote this as kind of a test piece to test the waters on if you guys like this and maybe i will make more about how the reader met others hehe! also i very much wrote this with the idea that the reader is not originally from norway, hopefully that is not an annoyance to anyone!

can you guys tell that bård is my absolute favourite metal man to write for? <3

♡ you and bård met through being pen pals in the early 90s!

୨୧ most likely, you had ordered a copy of his little black metal fanzine after hearing about it through another pen pal you were speaking to and he had almost immediately taken note of the country that was definitely not norway in your address…

♡ now that he looks back on it, it was probably a pretty major breach of privacy and possibly even incriminating but his interest was far too peaked after he saw your name, which he thought was an absolutely beautiful name, and a country he had never been to so he wrote a little letter to go along with the magazine when he posted it off to reach you

୨୧ but the letter only made you as interested in him as he was in you despite the two of you basically being complete strangers! his letter to you was downright adorable, it was filled with cute broken english and misspellings that made a small smile paint your face as you read through it, it was full of general questions about your home county and how exactly you heard about his little fanzine! not to mention the mixed in questions about you too, questions about what bands you like and what your life is like! his letter was obviously filled with curiosity about you and who would you be to not write a letter back to him after he ended his own with the most adorable little thank you for buying his fanzine?

♡ when bård received your very first letter back to him, he was so strangely ecstatic about it! he already had quite a few pen pals but you… you and your letter felt so different to him, it felt so much more special and he could never quite put his finger on why until he began to send more letters to you and receive more letters from you! after just about three short months of talking to each other through pen and paper, after talking to each other about music and so many deeper topics about yourselves, after eventually beginning to send pictures of yourselves to each other, bård finally realised just what about you and your letters felt so special to him…

୨୧ he was totally into you! oh gosh, of course he was! everything made sense when it clicked in his head that he had a more intimate liking towards you, all those times that he would sit around feeling so impatient and almost lost whilst waiting for your next letter to arrive, all of those times he would check his post every single morning for your next letter, all of those times he felt so free and open when writing to you about himself, all of those times he would feel his face heat up whenever he read your compliments towards him and his band! there were just so many things that suddenly made so much sense when it all pieced together in his head that he really liked you, he liked everything about you!

♡ of course this new and sudden realisation scared bård a whole lot because did he really even want to confess his feelings towards you? did he really want to risk losing you as a wonderful friend because you do not feel the same and the waters are made murky after his confession of wanting to be something more? but he does it, he sends you a long letter confessing everything after almost an hour of walking in circles around his small bedroom with his hands grasping at his long brown hair and his mind lost in paranoia before he just decides to sit down and write a letter confessing everything he feels towards you! with shaky hands and a worried mind, the letter turns out slightly messy with chicken scrawl handwriting but he knows you will still understand it all, you always seem to understand him! he actually gets his mother to post this letter to you for him, he knows damn well that he would probably pull out just before posting it and he knows his worry would probably get the best of him so he asks her to post it for him

୨୧ the waiting days after sending the letter to you are downright horrible for bård, he can barely focus on anything as he awaits your letter back to him and not even playing his drums take his mind away from you… he can barely get to sleep at night as he fears the possibility that he will never receive a letter back from you because of his confession! the restless nights and fearful days become evident in his face as his eyes grow tired and his pale face becomes exhausted! but then, after a excruciatingly slow week of waiting and hoping, he receives a letter through the door and immediately runs to snatch it up from the carpet before rushing upstairs to his bedroom to read it in private…

♡ bård almost yells in excitement and pure happiness when he reads through your letter with shaky hands and sees the words about how you feel the exact same towards him, he can just barely even attempt to hold in a relieved scream as his worried mind is finally put to rest by your loving words on the paper! his body is completely overrun with energy and an almost childlike glee as he fully realised that this is it, he has you now! he has all he ever wanted now! you felt so perfect for him, from the first time he ever read your name on that delivery address and felt a strange tingle in his heart to now as he reads through your letter about feeling that very same love for him! he feels so at peace and so content as he reads your confession letter over and over again, savouring your sweet words in his head before putting it aside to excitedly begin writing his next one to you

୨୧ you can hardly believe your eyes when you read his next letter back to you about how fearful he was to admit his feelings for you, your eyes widening in confusion as you read his written words about how terrified he was… how on earth would it have ever been possible for you to have not felt the same for him? he was so sweet, so passionate and so handsome… i would have been impossible for you to have not felt the very same love for him that he felt for you…

♡ eventually, in early january of the next year after the two of you had even began talking for the first time through letters, you decided to fly out to norway as a kind of late christmas gift for him! you did not even ask him to meet you at the airport as the closest one to his home was still quite a bit away but he did anyways, of course he did! how could he not? he wanted, needed to be there the second you stepped foot in the very same country he was in, he needed to be with you the second it was possible and he sure was! literally the minute you were in his sight after exiting the terminal, he was rushing to take you into his arms for the very first time! excitement mixed with nervousness taking over his body as he held you in a tight hug while you laughed quietly into his shoulder about how constricting his skinny arms were around you before settling your hands on his blushing cheeks and leaning up to place a deep kiss to his lips, the first of many! he was so nervous, he had never kissed anyone like you before, none of his prior kisses were real like this one, you felt so real! after that day, it was hard for him to ever let you go at all, every minute of your days in norway were spent being in his arms as the two of you talked about anything and everything you could think of! this first time actually meeting only proved to bård just how perfect you truly were for him and he never wanted you to leave his arms <3

[signanothername]

Do you ever get annoyed by askers getting the more simple parts of your characterizations wrong? Does it ever feel like people just aren't listening to you because of how they keep asking about the fundamentals of your characters?

(No hate to any askers, this is just a genuine question) (I just wanna know more about how Ano feels about answering things all the time)

See Anon, my motto in life is “give the benefit of the doubt” and if there’s one skill I learned from life, it’s patience

When I see an ask that gets my characterization wrong, I do not assume that the person asking is ignoring my posts or is trying to push their own characterization onto me, I assume that maybe the person is a new follower and has not read through my older posts, or someone who hasn’t been online in a while and only returned recently, so i simply gently nudge them in the right direction to how I characterize them

Were there asks that made me feel a lil frustrated? Yes, I won’t lie to you about that, and tbh I’m ok with asks that get the finer more deeper details wrong, as these kinda things can be a bit tricky to understand and deal with

But when it comes to the fundamentals of the character, the simpler aspects of the character, for example, Nightmare holding no true attachment to anyone but his twin, something that I pretty much show all the time and I get an ask that gets it wrong, I do release a lil sigh (that’s something I haven’t actually gotten an ask that got it wrong which is why I’m using it as an example)

But again, I give the benefit of the doubt, and assume that the person is genuinely asking and is not purposely ignoring my posts or pushing their own ideas onto me, so I still answer it the same way I answer any other ask, gently nudging the person asking to the right direction of my characterization

Of course, this is when it comes to my own characterization, there are asks I receive that is asking generally or are exploring what ifs, these are fun and do no harm, and I do find them fun to explore

That being said, most of the asks I get are genuinely fun and leave a big smile on my face, and even when I get an ask that frustrates me a bit, I’m still grateful for it, I’m grateful that people genuinely love my characterizations enough to want to know more about them

So generally, I’m happy with the asks I get still, whether they get my characterization right or wrong

Thank you for showing interest and curiosity about my characterizations of my lil blorbos :)

[coocoolahh]

My Starlight will Guide Me Home🌠💫

Summary: "Marcus Acacius is know as many things, but if you were to ask the man himself I'm sure that he would want nothing but to be known as the father to his beloved daughter who was born out of the love between him and his precious starlight. Historians have often debated over the identity of the mysterious starlight. Edward Gibbon once famously claimed in his magnum opus that Acacius' starlight was a vagabond princess from one of the Eastern kingdoms, but there is no concrete evidence to back his claim."

- Dr. C.C. Philip. 'The Roman Conquest of Numidia'.

A/N: No warning as such (not beta read). I have no idea what I just wrote but it was fun to do so. I hope that you guys will enjoy it as well🥰

r/historyloreNgossip 6 days ago

Eudoxes4lyf

Letters of General Marcus Acacius

I just finished reading R. Dike's "Epistles from the Past", which is basically a collection of translations of personal letters from various individuals across civilizations; I kid you not I sobbed and swooned so ugly when I read the part featuring the letters of Marcus Acacius (a 3rd century CE Roman general) to his daughter which were written when he was out on a military campaign to Numidia.

The man is so Girl Dad coded. That one letter where he is worried about her favourite dolly getting misplaced, while he is out there pillaging entire cities and colonizing the eastern frontiers in the name of Rome😭

Edit 2: I thought the person he is referring to as "starlight" was his wife Lucilla. Is there any extra info on the General's starlight?

Edit 2: I found a copy of Professor Philip's book in the college library. Thanks for the recommendation!

ptolemysiswife .5 days ago.

Omg yesss! The letters are so sweet. We had it on our reading list (it was a different book tho!) this semester and I kid you not I giggled like a school girl in love while reading the General's letters. Poor guy was missing his kid so much, you can't help but feel for him haha

SadguyRumi . 5 days ago.

Did you know that his daughter was born from a slave from the Orient and not his lawful wife?

ptolemysiswife .5 days ago.

Ah yes! The famous starlight. The way he describes her in the letters is so endearing. The man is outright simping for his starlight haha. It's so romantic😩🤌🏻

SadguyRumi . 4 days ago.

It's so funny that a hardened war general was down bad for the mother of his child.

BanksofVaranasi .4 days ago.

I think the OP will enjoy C.C. Philip's "The Dawn and Downfall of an Empire: A War General's Musings". It dives deep into the celebrated General's personal life, and even gives us some clues about his beloved starlight (I'm actively refraining from calling her a slave out of respect for the general who seemed to hate it when others referred to her and their daughter as such) which is backed by actual archaeological findings and not hearsay that other contemporary historians of the time would have us believe.

Hamurabishabibi .3 days ago.

This sounds so interesting. I'm a sucker for feel good stories from the ancient world. Can anyone please upload some of his letters or few wholesome excerpts? I tried looking for the books that OP and u/BanksofVaranasi mentioned but they cost a really pretty penny in my country (damn you conversion rate!)😀 I really wanna know about this starlight person as well😆😅

citethysources .2 days ago.

You're in luck cause some museum (I forgot which) recently uploaded a bunch of N. Maurice's translations of the General's letters (along with some other excerpts related to his life and times) under the section which they titled "Star Guided Letters to Home" on their website. You can check it out, they've curated all the letters in a nice chronological order

Hamurabishabibi .2 days ago.

omg the title!! I'm feeling violently sick ughhh! thanks a lot, I just found the museum's website and yes the section is curated so nicely. I think I'm in love with the web designer haha

Title: Star Guided Letters to Home: the letters of Marcus Acacius and other related documents from the 3rd century CE.

Translator: Dr. Nestor Maurice, MA, MPhil, PhD

Overview: The celebrated Roman general Marcus Acacius was once considered the darling of the Roman populi. Feared by the enemies of Rome, much of history knows him for his infamous exploits in the eastern frontiers of the Roman Empire, and for his brave defiance against the infamous co-emperors- Geta and Caracalla. The following letters were addressed by the general during his year long expedition to Numidia (in present day Algeria) to his only child and daughter Marcia (known fondly amongst the scholarly circles as "Marcia de la Stella"- Marcia of the Stars), and are a testament to a parent's love for their child, which transcends the temporal and spatial limitations imposed upon us by the natural flow of the Universe. Given the age of Marcia de la Stella at the time that these letters were penned, there is a high probability that they were read out to the child by her adopted mother Lucilla, the daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius and the legal wife of Marcus Acacius.

______________________________________________________________

Document 1

"The general had a surprisingly soft corner for his "slave" daughter, who was also his only known and acknowledged progeny. He could often be seen holding the wee babe in his arms within the confines of his domus.

It is rumoured that he had her manumitted in the early hours of her birth, and that there was an undertone of fear amongst the General's personal physicians that the otherwise healthy infant would inherit some of her slave mother's more peculiar cognitive functioning.

Nevertheless, it was evident to much of the Roman public that the child had the General wrapped around her tiny little finger; and anyone who dared to call her a bastard or a child of a slave would have to face the wrath of the otherwise austere and good-natured General"

- Cassius Dio, contemporary Roman historian

Letter 1: A Father's Prayer

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My dear moonbeam, a few moments ago I received a correspondence from fair lady Lucilla. She seemed worried that you haven't been keeping well. Oh how I wish I could be there for you my little duckling. But alas, your failure of a father must fulfil his duty to Rome first.

May our household gods inflict all your pain and suffering onto me! Give my salutations to lady Lucilla, and to my starlight. As always, my days are filled with your worry, and my nights are spent praying for you. Farewell, my moonbeam, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you."

Document 2

"Lucilla to her Attia greetings. Dearest friend, I received your invitation. I would be more than delighted to attend the wedding of your daughter Julia. I still cannot fathom the fact that little Julia is now ready to manage her own household. It saddens me to think that soon enough my little Marcia too shall come of age and become someone's bride. The child is the light in my otherwise dreary existence. Blessed be her sweet mother who brought her into this world!

I fear that my lord Marcus Acacius will be the most agitated when such a time shall come. But above all, I fear for the sake of the man who will come and ask for Marcia's hand in marriage. Give my greetings to your Julia. You shall see me and little Marcia soon. Farewell, my dearest and most longed for friend."

- Lucilla, wife of Marcus Acacius in a letter to her friend Attia dated 215 CE

Letter 2: Birthday

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My sweetheart, may you be showered with all the blessings that the world has to offer. Every year, on the day of your birth, I've taken the liberty to spoil you to my heart's content. Dearest, my good wishes are always upon you, but what has a father to offer to his dearest child from a battlefield?

Moonbeam, since the day that you were born to me and my starlight as our daughter, I've considered myself the luckiest man in all of Rome; but now, here in Numidia, I've started to appreciate the fact that I'm a daughter's father even more. May you never have to step foot in a battlefield, and may your dreams be decorated with happiness. Farewell, my dearest star child, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you."

Document 3

"Once at a party hosted by Senator Thraex, Lord [name erased due to erosion] made the mistake of mocking Marcus Acacius' paramour whom he decried as a whorish slave from the east.

Acacius in all his fury beat the unfortunate fool in unmitigated rage, and warned the onlookers that he wouldn't hesitate to do the same to anyone who dared to humiliate the mother of his child.

It was reported that the two co-Emperors, who were present at the gathering, had a good laugh over the misery of the man who had been the target of the general's wrath, and even offered the general to execute the "bumbling fool" as a gift to the general"

-Anonymous writer, 5th century AD

Letter 3: Dolly

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My precious star child, who is dear to the sight, but dearer still when the sight is denied, I was informed of your melancholy by dearest Lady Lucilla! I know just how precious the dolly was to you. My starlight had made it for you when you were smaller than a fig in her womb. I too, cannot help but lament the loss of your dolly. I wish I could be there to assuage your grief and mine.

Moonbeam, I promise to help you look for your dolly once I'm back there with you. The very thought of seeing you again fills my heart with joy in these difficult times. You are always in my prayers my dearest. Farewell, my sweet, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you"

Document 4

"Lucilla to her husband Marcus Acacius greetings. Dearest confidant and husband , you've always been considerate of me and my feelings since the day the late Emperor Septimius Severus had us betrothed. You've been respectful of my feelings for him, and I've always admired you greatly for that. As such, I was elated when you found your love in the form of [name erased due to erosion]. She brought such joy and light to you; and even bore you the most precious of daughters! Little Marcia has helped me get over my grief for my own dear Lucius, and watching her grow swells my heart with happiness and a sense of pride.

But dearest of friends, I must confide in you that the sweet child has been asking some very curious questions about her own identity, some of which I find myself unable to answer. If you could, please help her quench her curiosity. I pray for the safe passage of your campaign. Farewell, my husband and dearest of confidants.

- Lucilla, in a letter to Marcus Acacius dated 216 CE

Letter 4: Starlight

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My little Marcia, your poor father is troubled! I don't know how to begin this letter. I can start by describing the auspicious moment when I met my starlight or maybe I should start by describing her. Your mother, my starlight, hailed from a land somewhere in the far East of Rome. Her people called her [name erased due to erosion] but she was known in Rome as Macrina, for she worked in the household of Macrinus. You may know him as the man with the colouring of dawn who once came over, accompanied by his two adopted daughters, to offer you sweets. But you are too young to remember all that.

My starlight would sometimes play the lute at parties organised by Macrinus. She was so good at playing her instrument that you could swear that she had been blessed by the very gods of music. My starlight had a penchant for singing in her native tongue, but she would only so in private, and oh! how blessed was I to have been privy to her mellifluous voice. She would then try to translate them for me using her adorably weak command over the language that you and I are now conversing in. I'll tell you more about my starlight when I get back home to you. For now, I'm writing down a line from a song which my starlight once sung for me.

There’s a desire, there’s a prayer

Both of them have touched the soul of love

Read it from the left or from the right

From the earth till the sky, only love is written

My little cup of honey, you remind me of my starlight so much! Farewell, my Moonbeam, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you"

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

Footnote: Hoii! I had so much fun writing this aiyaaaa! (totally not due on finishing my assignments and finishing my own reading list hahahah). I think the fic is pretty open ended (is it though?). I also chose the Orient cause it truly is a microcosm of the entire world (you get all shapes, colours and almost all race combinations)!! So the reader can customise the appearance of our dear starlight as per their likes and preferences. The orient part could also be my bias speaking cause I'm an aspiring historian whose field of interest lies in countries of the "Orient" (I'm also using the term Orient very veryyy loosely here). I took a lot of inspiration from various historical sources and epistles, so if you come across some of them then do tell!

Anyways, I hope that you guys will enjoy the fic as much as I did writing it huh (It's my first time writing one so I'm sorry if it comes across as cringe)!! Do tell if I should continue this and make it into a series hehe and sorry for any mistakes that I make in advance😽

Do like, repost and comment!! I love those hehe

That one line is from this song at the 2:35 minute mark

[ladycrimsonandblack]

Ten people I'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @p4nicaker thank you!

Last song: When the Darkness Comes by Jeris Johnson

Favorite colour: Violet

Last book: The last book I actually finished was a reread of A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner. I also just started reading Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie and I really like it so far.

Last movie: Darkest Hour (2017)

Last show: Beyond Evil (2021)

Sweet/spicy/savory: Spicy

Relationship status: Not really interested in all that

Last thing I googled: The weather in my area. It's been snowing, and I wanted to know if it would all freeze into ice or start melting into slush.

Current obsession: Trash of the Count's Family webnovel. Saiyuki anime. Also, One Piece, but that's been ongoing for the last 4 years.

Looking forward to: Snow days, new One Piece chapter, and free days off work for holidays

Tagging with no pressure: @curapicas @blueteller @mugiwara--ya @aro-screams-into-the-void @randomprojectedkat @aethersea @i-might-be-a-simp @kickingtheladder @ace-no-isha @tsume-yuki and anyone else who would like to join!

[flamingo-writes]

Autumn English Sky 

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Third person, self insert, fem reader, she/her pronouns used

Summary: Hobie goes out looking for one of his childhood friends, after a while of being missing and busy due to his Spider-Man duties. However when he finds her, she seems to have been struggling for a while. Hobie sits with her in an attempt to get her to open up about it.  Warnings: cursing, mentions of weight, weight-loss (but there’s no explicit description of the reader’s appearance other that having lost some weight), eating disorders, depression, Word Count: 1.7K 

Big shoutout to: @midnightnoiserose, every so often I go back and read the comments you leave to get a serotonin boost. Thank you for supporting my work so diligently 🥺💜

Putting the Author's note here bcs its longer than usual:

Author’s note: It’s been a while, I know. Life’s been busy I guess. ADHD-ing too close to the sun, dealing with adult life, work, periods where I feel burnt out, depressive episodes that come and go, you know how it is. Even though I’ve been constantly writing, I haven’t finished writing, nor I’ve written something I deem good enough to be posted. Whether it's my impostor syndrome, leaving stuff incomplete, or simply because my writing has been lazier, who knows. The thing is I haven’t posted anything in a while. As I’m writing this, I’m thinking: Hopefully this one will stick to the wall, like spaghetti. If you’re reading this, it means I made it. I finished writing something.  I guess this one will be slightly more personal? I’ve been mostly rummaging in my own life events and thoughts, looking for an outlet, so this might as well be that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a while. Hobie can’t exactly place his mind as to how long it has been. He’s been busy. Between taking care of his own universe, protecting people, making art, subversive actions, and taking part in some of the missions assigned in other parts of the multiverse. He was busy, indeed. Not because he had the responsibility to respond to Miguel’s every request, but because his friends asked for help. It’s been hard, tiring even, but not impossible to balance everything happening in his life. Every once in a while he went incognito for a while to catch his breath and ground himself. 

But he had to admit, things slipped off his mind every so often. With Gwen’s constant presence lingering in his sailboat, he’d forgotten to check up on one of his friends. To check up on her, who he called by every pet name in existence but never actually calling her by her actual name. 

“Shit,” he sighed tiredly as he put his guitar aside and got off his bed. Gwen, who was hanging out as usual in his dimension, bouncing her drumsticks on the dining table gazed at him. 

“What did you forget?” She asked, already used to his quirks. 

“I’ll be right back, I might take a while,” he said, completely ignoring her question and grabbing a scarf and heading out into the chilly autumn afternoon. 

Gwen watched him leave, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t weird for Hobie to avoid questions. So this wasn’t anything new. Also when he said he’d be away for a while, that always ended up being at the very least six hours. So she guessed he had some important business to attend to. She sighed and kept drumming on the table. 

As Hobie swung around the city, his mask on, he took the usual route to her place. It wasn’t far away from the dock where his boat was docked. But as he swung past her flat building, he noticed all the lights were off. Gazing through the windows, there didn’t seem to be anyone inside. So he proceeded to keep swinging around the city, going to the usual spots she frequented. 

It was Saturday afternoon, so stopping by her workplace wasn’t an option, she wasn’t there. He tried her favourite coffee shop, nothing. He headed to the park she usually took her dog to, nothing. As his options narrowed down, he went to the public library, hoping to find her. She wasn’t there, not inside the library at least. But she was hanging out by one of the small gardens inside the old building. 

One of the small gardens, with a small playground, and a couple of benches, he spotted a hooded silhouette. Although, even with the hoodie over the head, he was quick to recognise her smell. That familiar smell he associated with a warm hug the countless times she snuck him into her room when he was homeless and she still lived with her parents and let him spend the night and sleep on the rug beside her bed, wrapped in blankets that smelled just like her. 

“Been lookin’ for ya” He said calmly as she was sipping something out of a paper cup. 

As if snapped out of her trance she looked up at him, meeting his honey eyes and smiled at him. 

“Hobie!” She said happily, although he was quick to pick up on the tired tone in her voice. 

Not only  her voice, but something about the eye bags under her eyes, even the sight of her face, he noticed something different. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he sat beside her, and noticed her slight shivering, holding on to her paper cup as if clinging to the heat. He took off his scarf and wrapped it around her neck. “If you’re cold why don’t you go inside?”

She shook her head solemnly and gazed at the empty playground looking rather bright compared to the autumn dirty English sky. 

“I don’t mind the cold…” She admitted in a low voice. 

“You’ve lost weight.” He pointed out calmly, looking at her attentively. He was aware of her constant recovering-relapsing cycle, noticing how seeing her gain and maintaining her weight worked as an indicator that she was doing good. Seeing her lose weight meant something had triggered her relapse. 

“Sorry about that…” She sighed defeated. 

“Don’t apologise…” He pointed out as he kept gazing at her. “Is everything alright?” 

Hobie didn’t want to admit it, but he felt partially responsible. He knew how important he was to her, they were close friends. Or at least used to be. He’d been busy, absent, and she also hadn’t been reaching out as she would normally do. But he wasn’t looking for someone to blame. He was more worried about her current state. 

“Could be better, frankly…” She sighed and took another sip to her paper cup. “I’ve been maintaining my current weight for a few weeks…” She explained. “I mean, I know I’m looking thinner that I normally do…I lost weight, haven’t gained it back, but at least I haven’t kept losing any more weight…” 

Hobie hummed, and glanced back at her. “Care to share a little bit more, luv?” 

The silence lingered, filled by the howling of the wind. After several seconds. 

“Frankly speaking, I am not sure what happened…” She admitted. “One day, I just noticed my appetite was gone…” She looked at Hobie. 

The tired look in her eyes was enough to tell him she was telling the truth. Perhaps, in the beginning, her eating disorder was tied to self esteem and image issues. But her most recent relapses seemed to be tied to a feeling of losing control, and even an addiction. She’d explained to him that at some point it just felt like an addiction. It was harming, torturous, self destructive, but something about it was oddly comforting, sometimes even euphoric. It was something he couldn’t understand. His time being a homeless boy, the stomach aches he’d get from being hungry for so long were far from gratifying. He couldn’t understand how she’d find comfort in such a feeling. But he understood how addictions worked, and he was more than aware that addictions simply didn’t make any sense. Yet, they held their victim by the throat and seduced them over and over again despite the number of side effects. 

“I’m sorry,” Hobie said softly, filling in the silence. She hummed. 

“Don’t apologise…” She whispered softly in an attempt to comfort him. “It’s not your fault. I really don’t know what caused it…” 

“Maybe if I hadn’t gone MIA for so long…”

“Or maybe it’s just the seasonal depression,” She added and gazed at him. “You’ve been busy, I know that. And it’s fine. You being gone didn’t cause me to relapse,”

“I’m not saying it did. But maybe if I wasn’t missing for so long, maybe I could’ve checked in on you earlier and helped you,” 

Hobie watched her shake her head slightly and look away. 

“There’s no turning back time, plus it’s fine…My appetite is still gone, but I’m not actively losing weight…I just can’t bring myself to gain it back…”

“Baby steps, huh?” 

“I guess…” 

Hobie sighed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him, hugging her tightly. 

“I’m still sorry for suddenly disappearing. I just suck at managing my time,” He smiled when he heard her soft chuckle and her free hand wrapping around his body while the other kept holding her paper cup. “But I’m here now, okay?” He said looking down at her and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. 

“Thank you,” She whispered softly and gazed at him. “The weather is getting colder, the sun setting earlier…and the fact that I’m busy with work as of lately…It’s starting to mess up with my head,” she explained calmly. “I haven’t been able to make any art either…”

“Life’s been busy, hey? It sucks…” Hobie pointed out. “You haven’t made any art because of a lack of time, or a lack of motivation?” 

“Both,” she admitted and gazed at Hobie. 

Hobie sighed. “Come on,” he said, standing up and offering a hand to her. 

“Where?” She asked and finished her drink. 

“Your place…it’s getting late. We can order some takeout, eat together, and make some art. It’ll do you good…” He purred softly. 

“And make what exactly?” she chuckled awkwardly as she stood up and held his hand as he pulled her with him and headed out of the library. 

“Anything…you draw and paint, the possibilities are endless…” He said with a warm and optimistic tone. “You write too so, either a poem or a short story…Just let that silly creative mind of yours spread it’s wings,” 

She chuckled and followed him. Throwing her paper cup on the first bin she found and headed out of the library. 

As Hobie had said, they stopped by some restaurant, ordered take out and went to her flat. They ate dinner, chatted, caught up, and spent the afternoon together. All attempts at trying to make art failed. Feeling rusty, she wasn’t able to make anything substantial, nor anything she liked. But even just the effort made her already feel some sort of relief. 

At the sight of her smile, Hobie felt his own lips curl into a smile as she watched her get frustrated, laugh, sigh and start over repeatedly, whining about being out of practice. He’d say something back, either a sarcastic comment, or a joke, anything in an attempt to keep that smile on her face. 

He decided to spend the night over, reminiscing of their teenage years, when he’d stay over the night in her room. When they were kids, he’d sleep on the rug next to her bed since her bed was that small. Now her bed wasn’t so small, allowing both of them to fit in there. The chilly weather was the perfect excuse to share the bed and keep each other warm. They kept talking well into the night, snuggled under the bed covers, whispering as if they would wake someone else, despite being the only ones in the apartment. Eventually falling asleep next to each other. The company, the talking and the banter, as well as being pushed to create art were the therapy she needed, granting her a good night sleep in a long while. 

[patriottruth]

This is a November 26th, 2024 reminder that on March 4th, 2024, the Supreme Court of the United States ordered donald j. trump to have 87 Democrats in both houses of Congress remove his insurrectionist disqualification from ever holding any federal office again; because if he didn't, nothing, including MAGA SCOTUS, could stop Democrats in the House and Senate from disqualifying him; even if he wins the 2024 presidential election. He failed to do so prior to November 5, 2024. He's now counted down to his last 11 congressional business days of opportunity to resolve this matter.

*** Just wanted to include a huge thank you to everyone who is liking and reblogging this post and engaging by writing to your congressional representatives AND Democratic Leaders Schumer and Jeffries. You're all amazing and I appreciate you so much! For those asking when we'll be seeing this in the news, I'm working on that every day; and every time anyone here on Tumblr engages like I mentioned above, it increases the chances that Leaders Schumer and Jeffries will speak about it on major media outlets. For everyone wanting to see this in the news sooner than later, please copy and paste this entire message into an email and send it to everyone you know, and then please also share this information with Marc Elias of Democracy Docket and Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington via info@democracydocket.com and info@citizensforethics.org; because if enough people contact those attorneys, those attorneys have all of the media contacts they need to gain even more support for this effort.

I'm being asked what people can do once they've contacted their representatives and Democratic Leaders Schumer and Jeffries. The next step is lawyering up for United States vs. trump et. al. (donald trump and every state elector in the Electoral College who attempts to engage in and further insurrection against the United States by voting for disqualified insurrectionist donald j. trump). MAGA and trump are constantly being defeated in court by Marc Elias and his Democracy Docket team across the United States, and Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington are the attorneys from the Anderson vs. trump case and numerous other cases against MAGA, donald trump, and the trump administration. Those attorneys can and will represent the United States, alongside the actual U.S. Department of Justice, in stopping donald trump from being elected by the Electoral College on December 17, 2024.

I'm so thankful that people here on Tumblr are feeling more hopeful after reading this post; because it was heartbreaking for me to witness the extent of the trauma and misery around this site immediately after the election. I hope this message finds everyone in a much better situation than they were in November 6th. Have a great day, everyone! ***

*** For those asking about a normal presidential line of succession when donald trump is disqualified via Section 3/14A, MAGA SCOTUS addressed this on March 4th, 2024 in their Anderson opinions about how federal enforcement that disqualifies donald trump post-election would change the President-elect to Kamala Harris, not j.d. vance; and technically, j.d. vance is conspiring with a known insurrectionist to assist that disqualified insurrectionist in holding office in violation of the U.S. Constitution, so he's disqualified as well. But if vance wasn't disqualified for giving aid to an insurrectionist, there is no presidential line of succession prior to a President-elect being inaugurated and sworn in; especially when that disqualified insurrectionist President-elect can't even be elected by the Electoral College; so it's just a disqualified presidential candidate dragging down everyone with them due to their insurrectionist disqualification. The Republican party knew that donald trump was and is nothing more than a disqualified presidential candidate who never had a real chance of being elected, thus they knowingly forfeited the 2024 presidential race to Harris when they nominated trump; and MAGA SCOTUS acknowledged this when even they acknowledged that donald trump is, and would continue to be, at the mercy of the Democrats in the House and Senate if he somehow managed to win the election and attempted to hold office as a disqualified insurrectionist. ***

Between today, November 26th, 2024 and December 17th, 2024, donald j. trump has no choice but to go to Congress and have 70 Democrats in the House of Representatives and 17 Democrats in the Senate vote to remove his insurrectionist disqualification, as he was ordered to do by SCOTUS on March 4th, 2024, or he's not legally the President Elect and cannot be inaugurated, sworn in, or hold federal office again on January 20, 2025. The clock is ticking!

What will happen on December 17th, 2024 if donald j. trump hasn't cleared his insurrectionist disqualification via a two-thirds vote of both houses of Congress? Every Elector attempting to elect a known insurrectionist will be disqualified from being an Elector for engaging in and furthering insurrection against the United States. It is impossible for donald j. trump to remain as President Elect on December 17th, 2024; because every Elector in every state who attempts to vote for donald j. trump for President would then have to be immediately cleared of their insurrectionist disqualification by a two-thirds vote of their state legislature so that they could then vote for the only remaining legal, non-insurrectionist candidate. If donald j. trump hasn't cleared his insurrectionist disqualification by December 17, 2024, the only legal presidential candidate the Electoral College can vote for is Kamala Harris.

Article 2: Clause 3: Electoral College See also: Twelfth Amendment to the United States Constitution, Twentieth Amendment to the United States Constitution, Contingent election, Electoral College abolition amendment, Efforts to reform the United States Electoral College, and National Popular Vote Interstate Compact The Electors shall meet in their respective States, and vote by Ballot for two Persons, of whom one at least shall not be an Inhabitant of the same State with themselves. And they shall make a List of all the Persons voted for, and of the Number of Votes for each; which List they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the Seat of the Government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate. The President of the Senate shall, in the Presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the Certificates, and the Votes shall then be counted. The Person having the greatest Number of Votes shall be the President, if such Number be a Majority of the whole Number of Electors appointed; and if there be more than one who have such Majority, and have an equal Number of Votes, then the House of Representatives shall immediately chuse [sic] by Ballot one of them for President; and if no Person have a Majority, then from the five highest on the List the said House shall in like Manner chuse [sic] the President. But in chusing [sic] the President, the Votes shall be taken by States, the Representation from each State having one Vote; A quorum for this Purpose shall consist of a Member or Members from two thirds of the States, and a Majority of all the States shall be necessary to a Choice. In every Case, after the Choice of the President, the Person having the greatest Number of Votes of the Electors shall be the Vice President. But if there should remain two or more who have equal Votes, the Senate shall chuse [sic] from them by Ballot the Vice President.

Electoral College Elector Selection Process Article II, Section 1, Clause 2 of the Constitution requires each state legislature to determine how electors for the state are to be chosen, but it disqualifies any person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under the United States, from being an elector. Under Section 3 of the Fourteenth Amendment, any person who has sworn an oath to support the United States Constitution in order to hold either a state or federal office, and later rebelled against the United States directly or by giving assistance to those doing so, is disqualified from being an elector. Congress may remove this disqualification by a two-thirds vote in each house. (Wikipedia)

For those who would argue this is misinformation due to donald trump's MAGA cult allies in the Senate preventing him from being convicted, the bipartisan congressional J6 Committee investigated donald j. trump for insurrection, found him guilty of insurrection, referred him for criminal prosecution for insurrection, and donald j. trump was indicted and is currently being prosecuted for insurrection by the Department of Justice (unless the case gets dropped). Section 3 of the 14th Amendment doesn't require a formal conviction, so the congressional investigation, finding of insurrection, and the congressional committee referral for criminal prosecution, along with the federal indictment and prosecution for insurrection, can easily be used to keep donald j. trump from ever holding federal office again. Per the Supreme Court of the United States' own Berger Test to disqualify judges, the ridiculous, nonsensical, unethical and illegal MAGA SCOTUS majority "ruling" pertaining to their attempted declaration of donald j. trump's permanent immunity from federal enforcement of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment means absolutely nothing for him, or any other insurrectionist; because it lacks standing in precedent, law, constitutionality, and relevance.

The three dissenting justices clarify that the only matter that was actually legally settled and, therefore, legally enforceable, pertained to state actions, not federal law enforcement actions against a disqualified insurrectionist presidential or federal candidate, such as donald j. trump, committing the federal crime of being an insurrectionist attempting to hold office without having their insurrectionist disqualification removed via a two-thirds vote of both houses. And so it is legal fact that the Supreme Court did, in fact, order donald j. trump to have his insurrectionist disqualification removed by a two-thirds vote of both houses on March 4th, 2024; it's just that donald j. trump and his legal team were too illiterate and unintelligent to actually read what was legal and had standing (state enforcement against federal candidates), and what didn't (MAGA SCOTUS whining and crying about federal enforcement against federal candidates/their presidential candidate). And MAGA SCOTUS is now permanently legally barred from ever addressing any matter pertaining to federal enforcement of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment against donald j. trump, so they can't even try to interfere on his behalf again should Democrats in the House of Representatives and the Senate demand and force a vote on the matter of donald j. trump's disqualification for holding federal office.

Berger v. United States, 255 U.S. 22 (1921), is a United States Supreme Court decision overruling a trial court decision by U.S. District Court Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis against Rep. Victor L. Berger, a Congressman for Wisconsin's 5th district and the founder of the Social Democratic Party of America, and several other German-American defendants who were convicted of violating the Espionage Act by publicizing anti-interventionist views during World War I.

The case was argued on December 9, 1920, and decided on January 31, 1921, with an opinion by Justice Joseph McKenna and dissents by Justices William R. Day, James Clark McReynolds, and Mahlon Pitney. The Supreme Court held that Judge Landis was properly disqualified as trial judge based on an affidavit filed by the German defendants asserting that Judge Landis' public anti-German statements should disqualify him from presiding over the trial of the defendants.

The House of Representatives twice denied Berger his seat in the House due to his original conviction for espionage using Section 3 of the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution regarding denying office to those who supported "insurrection or rebellion". The Supreme Court overturned the verdict in 1921 in Berger v. U.S., and Berger won three successive terms in the House in the 1920s.

Per the United States Supreme Court's "Berger test" that states that to disqualify ANY judge in the United States of America: 1) a party files an affidavit claiming personal bias or prejudice demonstrating an "objectionable inclination or disposition of the judge" and 2) claim of bias is based on facts antedating the trial.

All 6 criminal MAGA insurrectionist and trump-loyalist U.S. Supreme Court Justices who've repeatedly and illegally ruled in donald j. trump's favor are as disqualified from issuing any rulings pertaining to donald j. trump (a German immigrant) as the United States Supreme Court ruled U.S. District Court Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis was when he attempted to deny Victor L. Berger (a German immigrant) from holding office for violating the Espionage Act and supporting or engaging in insurrection or rebellion against the United States of America.

RULES OF THE SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES Rule 8. Disbarment and Disciplinary Action

Whenever a member of the Bar of this Court has been disbarred or suspended from practice in any court of record, or has engaged in conduct unbecoming a member of the Bar of this Court, the Court will enter an order suspending that member from practice before this Court and affording the member an opportunity to show cause, within 40 days, why a disbarment order should not be entered. Upon response, or if no response is timely filed, the Court will enter an appropriate order.

After reasonable notice and an opportunity to show cause why disciplinary action should not be taken, and after a hearing if material facts are in dispute, the Court may take any appropriate disciplinary action against any attorney who is admitted to practice before it for conduct unbecoming a member of the Bar or for failure to comply with these Rules or any Rule or order of the Court.

The only misinformation that exists surrounding the Anderson vs. trump ruling is the belief that the MAGA SCOTUS ruling on federal enforcement of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment against donald j. trump settled the matter and handed him permanent immunity from prosecution should he ever commit the federal crime of attempting to hold federal office. In legal fact, MAGA SCOTUS' nonsensical ruling attempting to grant donald j. trump permanent immunity from prosecution for insurrection is grounds for immediate and permanent disbarment; as they're clearly attempting to legislate from the bench and prevent Congress from legislating in a way that's unfavorable to their presidential candidate.

This is the only pertinent and legally important part of the Anderson vs. trump ruling with regards to federal enforcement of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment against donald j. trump or any other insurrectionist committing the federal crime of attempting to hold office without first having their insurrectionist disqualification removed by a two-thirds vote of both houses:

Justice Sotomayor, Justice Kagan, and Justice Jackson Opinion on the Majority Ruling (supremecourt.gov):

Yet the majority goes further. Even though “[a]ll nine Members of the Court” agree that this independent and sufficient rationale resolves this case, five Justices go on. They decide novel constitutional questions to insulate this Court and petitioner from future controversy. Ante, at 13. Although only an individual State’s action is at issue here, the majority opines on which federal actors can enforce Section 3, and how they must do so. The majority announces that a disqualification for insurrection can occur only when Congress enacts a particular kind of legislation pursuant to Section 5 of the Fourteenth Amendment. In doing so, the majority shuts the door on other potential means of federal enforcement. We cannot join an opinion that decides momentous and difficult issues unnecessarily, and we therefore concur only in the judgment.

Yet the Court continues on to resolve questions not before us. In a case involving no federal action whatsoever, the Court opines on how federal enforcement of Section 3 must proceed. Congress, the majority says, must enact legislation under Section 5 prescribing the procedures to “ ‘ “ascertain[ ] what particular individuals” ’ ” should be disqualified. Ante, at 5 (quoting Griffin’s Case, 11 F. Cas. 7, 26 (No. 5,815) (CC Va. 1869) (Chase, Circuit Justice)). These musings are as inadequately supported as they are gratuitous.

To start, nothing in Section 3’s text supports the majority’s view of how federal disqualification efforts must operate. Section 3 states simply that “[n]o person shall” hold certain positions and offices if they are oathbreaking insurrectionists. Amdt. 14. Nothing in that unequivocal bar suggests that implementing legislation enacted under Section 5 is “critical” (or, for that matter, what that word means in this context). Ante, at 5. In fact, the text cuts the opposite way. Section 3 provides that when an oathbreaking insurrectionist is disqualified, “Congress may by a vote of two-thirds of each House, remove such disability.” It is hard to understand why the Constitution would require a congressional supermajority to remove a disqualification if a simple majority could nullify Section 3’s operation by repealing or declining to pass implementing legislation. Even petitioner’s lawyer acknowledged the “tension” in Section 3 that the majority’s view creates. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 31.

Similarly, nothing else in the rest of the Fourteenth Amendment supports the majority’s view. Section 5 gives Congress the “power to enforce [the Amendment] by appropriate legislation.” Remedial legislation of any kind, however, is not required. All the Reconstruction Amendments (including the due process and equal protection guarantees and prohibition of slavery) “are self-executing,” meaning that they do not depend on legislation. City of Boerne v. Flores, 521 U.S. 507, 524 (1997); see Civil Rights Cases, 109 U.S. 3, 20 (1883). Similarly, other constitutional rules of disqualification, like the two-term limit on the Presidency, do not require implementing legislation. See, e.g., Art. II, §1, cl. 5 (Presidential Qualifications); Amdt. 22 (Presidential Term Limits). Nor does the majority suggest otherwise. It simply creates a special rule for the insurrection disability in Section 3.

The majority is left with next to no support for its requirement that a Section 3 disqualification can occur only pursuant to legislation enacted for that purpose. It cites Griffin’s Case, but that is a nonprecedential, lower court opinion by a single Justice in his capacity as a circuit judge. See ante, at 5 (quoting 11 F. Cas., at 26). Once again, even petitioner’s lawyer distanced himself from fully embracing this case as probative of Section 3’s meaning. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 35–36. The majority also cites Senator Trumbull’s statements that Section 3 “ ‘provide[d] no means for enforcing’ ” itself. Ante, at 5 (quoting Cong. Globe, 41st Cong., 1st Sess., 626 (1869)). The majority, however, neglects to mention the Senator’s view that “[i]t is the [F]ourteenth [A]mendment that prevents a person from holding office,” with the proposed legislation simply “affor[ding] a more efficient and speedy remedy” for effecting the disqualification. Cong. Globe, 41st Cong., 1st Sess., at 626–627.

Ultimately, under the guise of providing a more “complete explanation for the judgment,” ante, at 13, the majority resolves many unsettled questions about Section 3. It forecloses judicial enforcement of that provision, such as might occur when a party is prosecuted by an insurrectionist and raises a defense on that score. The majority further holds that any legislation to enforce this provision must prescribe certain procedures “ ‘tailor[ed]’ ” to Section 3, ante, at 10, ruling out enforcement under general federal statutes requiring the government to comply with the law. By resolving these and other questions, the majority attempts to insulate all alleged insurrectionists from future challenges to their holding federal office.

“What it does today, the Court should have left undone.” Bush v. Gore, 531 U.S. 98, 158 (2000) (Breyer, J., dissenting). The Court today needed to resolve only a single question: whether an individual State may keep a Presidential candidate found to have engaged in insurrection off its ballot. The majority resolves much more than the case before us. Although federal enforcement of Section 3 is in no way at issue, the majority announces novel rules for how that enforcement must operate. It reaches out to decide Section 3 questions not before us, and to foreclose future effortfs to disqualify a Presidential candidate under that provision. In a sensitive case crying out for judicial restraint, it abandons that course.

Section 3 serves an important, though rarely needed, role in our democracy. The American people have the power to vote for and elect candidates for national office, and that is a great and glorious thing. The men who drafted and ratified the Fourteenth Amendment, however, had witnessed an “insurrection [and] rebellion” to defend slavery. §3. They wanted to ensure that those who had participated in that insurrection, and in possible future insurrections, could not return to prominent roles. Today, the majority goes beyond the necessities of this case to limit how Section 3 can bar an oathbreaking insurrectionist from becoming President. Although we agree that Colorado cannot enforce Section 3, we protest the majority’s effort to use this case to define the limits of federal enforcement of that provision. Because we would decide only the issue before us, we concur only in the judgment.

What all of that means is that between now and December 17th, 2024, donald j. trump has no choice but to go to Congress and have 70 Democrats in the House of Representatives and 17 Democrats in the Senate vote to remove his insurrectionist disqualification, as he was ordered to do by SCOTUS on March 4th, 2024, or he's not legally the President Elect and cannot be inaugurated, sworn in, or hold federal office again on January 20, 2025. The clock is down to 11 days, and ticking!

Here's why this will work: donald trump's legal tactics are deny, attempt to wiggle out of it on technicalities, and delay, delay, delay. Well, from November 2023 to March 4, 2024, donald trump not only said that he was never an officer of the United States, but that he also never swore an oath to support the United States Constitution. And then he said that Section 3 of the 14th Amendment says nothing about running for office, only holding office, and since he's only running for office, nothing can keep him off the ballot. And that's where this has finally caught up to him.

SCOTUS illegally took the case to begin with. Per the U.S. Constitution, SCOTUS was required to kick the case back to Congress immediately to force a two-thirds vote of both houses to remove or enforce donald trump's insurrectionist disqualification, and that would've settled the entire matter within a day. But they illegally denied Congress the ability to vote on it at the time, illegally legislated from the bench to keep donald trump on the ballot by illegally amending Section 3 of the 14th Amendment of the United States Constitution, and dismissed the clear two-thirds vote requirement to replace it with "Congress must pass new legislation and amend Section 3 of the 14th Amendment in order to keep insurrectionists off of the ballot and out of office in the future. All six MAGA SCOTUS injustices can now be immediately and permanently disbarred from ever judging or practicing law anywhere in the United States now and in the future for that illegal legislating from the bench; because the U.S. Constitution clearly says that the Judiciary can never interfere with Congress legislating, or with the President enforcing the laws of the United States.

donald trump and his allies figured that was a win, that SCOTUS couldn't be challenged, that the Democrats could never get legislation passed to keep him off the ballot or from holding office again, and the matter was dropped. But that's where he was wrong; because Section 3 of the 14th Amendment still reads, and only legally reads, that the only way an insurrectionist can hold federal office again is by a two-thirds vote removing their insurrectionist disqualification in both the House of Representatives and the Senate; and that means that now that donald trump can't try and use the technicality of "I'm not even trying to hold office, I'm just running for office," and he's actively trying to hold office with no technicality wiggle room, donald trump's only path to the White House is to have 70 Democrats in the House of Representatives and 17 Democrats in the Senate vote to remove his insurrectionist disqualification by December 17th, 2017; and his favorite tactic of delay, delay, delay won't work because delaying means he can't be inaugurated, sworn in, and serve as the 47th President of the United States; and that means Kamala Harris would become 47th President of the United States by default.

donald j. trump is actively engaging in the federal crime of attempting to hold federal office while being an impeached and criminally indicted insurrectionist. Chuck Schumer can easily force the Section 3 vote in the Senate; and if donald j. trump gets no Democrat votes in the Senate, then the House vote is unnecessary. If MAGA mike johnson refuses to allow a House vote, then that's an instant disqualification for insurrectionist donald j. trump.

Hakeem Jeffries Democratic Leader of the House of Representatives https://www.congress.gov/member/hakeem-jeffries/J000294 https://democraticleader.house.gov/contact

Chuck Schumer Democratic Leader of the Senate https://www.congress.gov/member/charles-schumer/S000148 https://www.schumer.senate.gov/contact/message-chuck

Here's a form letter that'll be under 1980 characters no matter if you're contacting House Democratic Leader Jeffries or Senate Democratic Leader Schumer. Just copy and paste the text into the contact form. If these Democratic leaders receive hundreds of these messages from different IP/Internet addresses, we'll have their attemtion. If they receive thousands of these messages from different IP/Internet addresses, we might see this in the news. If they receive tens of thousands of these messages from different IP/Internet addresses, we might finally be free from the threat of another donald trump presidency (turnout is everything in this fight for our human and civil rights, freedoms, and literal survival as non-trump supporters and non-MAGA cult members).

Dear Democratic Leader Jeffries,

My family, loved ones, friends, and I are greatly concerned that Donald J. Trump and all of his MAGA allies, supporters, enablers, donors, and voters have what clearly appear to be genocidal intentions to all American non-Trump supporters and voters whom they call, "traitors, anti-American, enemies from within, very bad people, very dangerous people, racists, radicals, extremists, communists, Marxists, fascists, thugs, liars, sick, ugly, stupid, mindless, thoughtless, brainless, disabled, deranged, criminals, rapists, cheaters, sleazebags, low-lifes, scum, trash, genetically inferior, weak, poison, insects, animals, rats, snakes, and vermin" on a regular basis. As I'm sure that you and all elected Democrat representatives at every level across the United States are aware, Donald J. Trump was not granted permanent immunity from federal enforcement of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment in the SCOTUS ruling for Anderson vs. Trump on March 4, 2024; and the moment Donald J. Trump was declared the President Elect, he was committing the federal crime of attempting to hold office while being an impeached and indicted insurrectionist without first having that insurrectionist disqualification removed by a two-thirds vote of both houses of Congress. Donald J. Trump and his MAGA cult appear to intend to not only deport 15 million people, but to also engage in undeniable genocide and ethnic and cultural cleansing against half the population of the United States (using voter registration as a "vermin" purge mechanism). Thankfully, per the Supreme Court's own Berger Test to disqualify judges, Donald J. Trump's MAGA SCOTUS allies can never intervene on any of his legal cases again, so if you would please bring the matter of a two-thirds vote to the House of Representatives for an immediate vote by no later than December 11th, 2024, my fellow Americans and I would greatly appreciate it.

Respectully,

An American patriot

Dear Democratic Leader Schumer,

My family, loved ones, friends, and I are greatly concerned that Donald J. Trump and all of his MAGA allies, supporters, enablers, donors, and voters have what clearly appear to be genocidal intentions to all American non-Trump supporters and voters whom they call, "traitors, anti-American, enemies from within, very bad people, very dangerous people, racists, radicals, extremists, communists, Marxists, fascists, thugs, liars, sick, ugly, stupid, mindless, thoughtless, brainless, disabled, deranged, criminals, rapists, cheaters, sleazebags, low-lifes, scum, trash, genetically inferior, weak, poison, insects, animals, rats, snakes, and vermin" on a regular basis. As I'm sure that you and all elected Democrat representatives at every level across the United States are aware, Donald J. Trump was not granted permanent immunity from federal enforcement of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment in the SCOTUS ruling for Anderson vs. Trump on March 4, 2024; and the moment Donald J. Trump was declared the President Elect, he was committing the federal crime of attempting to hold office while being an impeached and indicted insurrectionist without first having that insurrectionist disqualification removed by a two-thirds vote of both houses of Congress. Donald J. Trump and his MAGA cult appear to intend to not only deport 15 million people, but to also engage in undeniable genocide and ethnic and cultural cleansing against half the population of the United States (using voter registration as a "vermin" purge mechanism). Thankfully, per the Supreme Court's own Berger Test to disqualify judges, Donald J. Trump's MAGA SCOTUS allies can never intervene on any of his legal cases again, so if you would please bring the matter of a two-thirds vote to the Senate for an immediate vote by no later than December 11th, 2024, my fellow Americans and I would greatly appreciate it.

Respectully,

An American patriot

[mybworlds]

Chapter 5

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… hey there, how you doing? I need some time to write about this chapter, it was pretty hard for me. If you want to let me know what you think about the story or chapter, I'd appreciate. If you don't like, 'm sorry guys.

I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You are very nervous, you feel a strange sensation of fear mixed with anxiety invade you and run through your body. You have never done anything like this, pretending to be someone you are not. Or rather, when you did it you weren't completely alone. You knew there was someone nearby, Peña will surely be around, but he won't be able to intervene, he won't be able to do anything. So, you will be alone.

You look at yourself in the mirror and feel the heat invade your cheeks and run down your body, you fix your hair as best you can, you try to add a little more eye shadow and you adjust the black top and red skirt you're wearing. Your shoulders feel stiff with tension, your neck is straight, stiff with concern, you're very nervous and anyone can tell. At this moment you look like anything but an escort.

Peña looks at you with a worried expression, his big dark eyes scrutinizing you carefully as if he wanted to read inside you and almost want to make his own the fear that is devouring every little part of you. The man sits at the foot of the bed bent over with his elbows planted on his thighs and does nothing but watch your every move. In other circumstances you’d have thrown a piece of clothing at him or said something to make him stop looking at you that way, but not now.

You open and close your lips several times and take deep breaths in a still futile attempt to relax. You've even dusted off some relaxation exercises, but it's all useless at the moment.

“I think, it's fine,” you say, your voice barely a whisper and filled with an ever-increasing nervousness. You clench your hands convulsively, swallowing and keeping your head down, “I should be believable,” you add, looking back at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your expression shows anything but sensuality.

“Hey, hey, hey” Javier says to you as he gets up from the bed and reaches you, you look at him through the reflection in the mirror “I'll try to get in too, maybe I can..." you lower your gaze, breathing in and out deeply “look at me.” he asks you “Please, look at me.” You look up and then turn to the man who is looking at you with barely concealed concern. “You're beautiful.” he tells you placing an index finger under your chin so that your eyes meet, reflecting each other's fear “be careful, please. If something happens to you...” the words get stuck in his throat, you watch his Adam's apple go up and down while he lays his eyes on you.

“Javi...” you say, but the truth is that you don't even know what to say. Your thoughts and emotions are like one in contrast with the other, one detached from the other. In the last few hours your relationship seems to have changed, even if you don't even know how or when this change actually happened. The fact is that you can't think of Javier Peña as a thorn in your side, as that hateful colleague with whom you started this mission.

He smiles at you, it's a sweet smile that curves his lips upwards and involves - even if only minimally - his beautiful hazel eyes. He caresses your chin with his fingertip in a gesture of unusual sweetness that smacks of a strange and new complicity that has quickly been created between you, almost as if deep down it had always been there, hidden, but perhaps already hovering among you.

“You’re gonna be fine.” he tries to calm you down without taking his eyes off yours and, if you weren't so worried about what you have to do, maybe you’d have even felt captivated by his sweet and irresistible gaze, maybe you’d have even allowed yourself to give in to some of his possible comments, but not now.

“¡Juro por Dios que si te hacen algo…!” (“I swear to God, if they do anything to you...!”) his tone of voice is a low whisper, almost a promise to you — or perhaps to himself! — that whatever happens, he will step in and come for you.

You don't even know why, but you almost feel for a second that the anxiety and fear towards El Diablo is waning to be replaced by something you don't even know how to define at the moment. Perhaps it’s the solid and reassuring presence of your colleague, his measured but vibrant tone of voice, his eyes so sweet at this moment, that small touch that almost makes you feel anchored to someone you've always openly said you didn't like, but whose absence now seems unacceptable.

The fear of not making it’s becoming so unbearable that you are forced to close your eyes and give in to this vulnerability that you have always kept to yourself and that especially up until today you had kept it hidden from Javier himself.

“Now listen, tesoro, if it’s too much for you. Okay. I’m not kidding you, I swear. Let’s talk to Diáz and let it go.” his tone of voice seems so sincere and understanding that you almost wonder what happened to the man who used to call you frigid and bitch.

Tesoro, he had never used that nickname. At least not with you. And if you hadn't been focused on something else, you’d have even felt flattered to hear that.

Even though you feel awkward about this undercover mission, you don't want all of this to have been for nothing, “No, I can do this,” you say, nodding and trying to smile, but it’s a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

He caresses your chin in a sweet gesture that makes your heart flutter, you find yourself swallowing without being able to take your eyes off his, but without being able to do anything but look at his well-defined face, his beautiful eyes, his angular nose, his well-defined mustache, his plushy pink lips. He's beautiful and it feels like you're only really looking at him now.

Suddenly you wonder when the boundaries between you broke down, bringing you to this unknown degree of intimacy, this silent feeling of well-being between you, almost as if you liked each other from the beginning. When did it begin? When did he save you from the waves of the sea? When did you walk close together on a deserted beach? When did you share a bed? When?

“I better go,” you say as if you want to put a safe distance between you and him again rather than out of any real sense of duty in carrying out this mission.

He nods, slowly moving his fingers away from your chin, but never leaving your eyes. These eyes that used to just irritate you, now seem like the only place you never want to leave.

“What do I look like?” you ask him, still looking at him with a little panic in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, stroking your hair in a gesture of unusual intimacy and sweetness. He runs his gaze along your body and you feel like an unknown adrenaline runs through your body. Yet you’ve had his gaze on you on more than one occasion, but you've never felt this way before.

“Maybe, it’s better to take this one off.” he tells you, focusing on a detail, and that’s when you remember that you didn’t take off the wedding ring. That ring that in a certain sense doesn’t bother you like it used to. Even though you know it's a fake wedding ring.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Yeah.” you say, slipping it off your ring finger and going to put it on the nightstand, but Javier surprises you again, making you hesitate even more if that's possible. He opens the palm of his hand as if he wanted to hold that symbol of your mission and of that strange relationship that is being established between you.

“Thank you.” you say simply inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Oh, wait. Put this on.” he says, passing you a microphone that looks like a simple button. You look at him as if to ask if it's dangerous, but he reassures you by saying “It won’t ring under metal detectors or cause any strange interference, with this on, I’ll hear you.” he says looking you in the eyes with great intensity “I mean, me and the other agents. We’ll intervene.”

You nod, before tucking it into a small pocket in your skirt. You nod as if to say goodbye, the air is becoming decidedly strange, beautiful, but strange.

“You better go now,” he tells you. The words should be a push to finally get the operation underway, but his tone of voice is anything but a push to get you out of your room.

If the moment hadn't been so dangerous and dramatic, you’d have even allowed yourself to concentrate on those small, great, sweet gestures of his towards you, you’d have noticed even more the worried and dramatic expression in his eyes, his tense features, but now you have to come back to yourself.

You simply nod at his statement and then walk out of the room. You don't know what awaits you, you're scared. Every step feels difficult, every breath feels like it's stuck in your throat, and a deep sense of nausea begins to grip the pit of your stomach.

You've practically arrived at the place which is now very crowded, there are young people, adults of all ages and you make your way with difficulty. The rhythmic music hammers your ears almost mirroring the dull beat of your heart gone mad with fear of having put yourself in a situation much bigger than you.

You force yourself not to give in completely because you know that giving in to your fear wouldn't do anyone any good. You started it all and you will finish it. Now it's all in your hands and your decisions.

You walk over to the bar and grab a beer in an attempt to loosen up a bit and appear less stiff than you feel. The sensation of modest acidity and of bitterness invade your mouth and your taste buds.

It's good. You sip it, squinting as the glass begins to finish. Your arms are less stiff than before, they almost feel soft. Your legs are light, almost as if they didn't even touch the ground. You feel like you're made of jelly.

Someone approaches you, when you turn to the one who touched your back, you realize that it’s one of El Diablo's henchmen. You can do nothing but follow the man.

The man moves aside a large dark cloth, making room for you too, who follow him a couple of steps behind. You continue along a corridor lit by green and blue neon lights, go down a long staircase that almost seems to want to swallow you.

The music that used to pierce your ears is now a distant echo that barely echoes down there. For a split second there’s a dull eerie silence, then more music reaches your ears. It's less loud than before, but still loud. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you can't help but wonder what's next.

You are so scared. Even if you don't say it out loud, Javier can see it and feel it. Your eyes are so expressive that they’re enough to let him know what you are feeling right now.

He never thought he’d care so much about you, so much that he’d feel a sensation similar to the horror of losing an important part of himself.

You're fighting fear and he notices, but you're also fighting to avoid being pushed by Javier to give up and have someone else take your place. You don't want to. Javier in a fit of fear for you and great concern, hands you a small microphone so he can hear you, he will come for you. He will certainly warn the others right away, but above all he will go after you. It doesn't matter that it’s a dangerous mission to himself, he's afraid for you. You don't know what you're getting into. He remembers very well what happened to one of his informants, he doesn't want history to repeat itself.

He doesn't know what to do, or rather he knows he can't follow you right away or it would ruin everything and that's exactly what he doesn't want. He knows you wouldn't forgive him, even if it was to save your life.

He immediately contacts Diáz who immediately alerts the CIA department. He hopes with all his heart that you are okay and that your cover holds until they intervene. Peña is impatient as the agents decide how to intervene, studying the access points to the place where El Diablo and you are.

He has an ever-increasing anxiety for you, he doesn't know what you're doing, if you're okay, if that demon is touching you or forcing you to do something against your will. He couldn't stand knowing that that man is touching you with his filthy hands, that he might be kissing you or worse, that he’s forcing you to take drugs just to submit you and bend to his will.

He hears you through the microphone he gave you, you're speaking in a tone that may seem calm, but which he has now learned to recognize as just a facade. You're doing well, but he can't be calm. Just one movement, a look or a word and everything goes haywire.

He paces back and forth, hearing the plans in the meantime to surround the building. It takes time, but you don't have hours. Time is running out.

When he’s thinking of acting alone, the go-ahead comes and he’s there in the front line running.

He doesn't know what you’re doing, if you are well, if you are sick. If you are fighting for your life or if you are simply sitting next to that little man. The truth is, he's terrified. He's terrified that you're there with him and he's not.

He can't hear you anymore, he only hears a rustling sound.

He's been on a lot of operations, he's come face to face with a lot of criminals, sending someone else - someone he cares about - on a mission is different. His biggest worry is arriving too late. He’d never forgive himself.

He’s on the front lines, they move fast with guns drawn. They are all ready for anything. They quickly enter the club full of people, the music is at full blast. They scatter among the dancers, Javier - already knowing where you entered, remembering where he saw you enter the night before - heads towards the dark curtain that hides the entrance to what he imagines is a private room.

He moves the curtain and immediately the same man he had seen the night before appears in front of him. Javier instinctively points the gun at his chest pushing him against a wall to his left and the other man, taken by surprise, raises his hands in sign of surrender.

“Where’s she?” The henchman's lips curl upwards and Javier's stomach tightens painfully causing him to suddenly feel nauseous, “Where.is.she?” he hisses, pressing the gun against him removing the trigger.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” he says chuckling and looking at him mockingly.

“No me mientas, hijo de puta. (Don't bullshit me, you son of bitch.)”

“I knew she was an undercover whore, your slut friend.” Javier is about to lunge at him, but another colleague holds him back just in time before taking the henchman into custody.

Javier is feeling like throwing up, your cover is blown and anything could have happened to you.

“Fuck.” He sighs before taking a deep breath and using a flashlight to light his way down a dark staircase barely lit by green and blue neon lights.

Down there, music echoes, the officers see many rooms in which there are men of all sorts, the drugs still in strips on the tables ready to be inhaled, some of those men have probably escorts on their lap.

“Hands up,” CIA agents shout as they encounter people they know and don’t know.

Javier continues, where are you? Where? Please, where are you?

A sudden blow to his heart comes when he remembers Helena, what she suffered in order to be free. His stomach hurts so much from the tension he feels.

Then a sinking feeling when he finds the microphone he had given you on the ground completely destroyed. Javier increases his pace and the fear of not finding you or finding you in a different state than he left you in, causes him a sharp pain almost as if he were receiving a stab in the stomach and heart.

Please, please, please, make sure you're okay, please!

He opens a lot of doors, moves the drapes used for storage, when the anxiety is taking over, he sees an emergency exit wide open, he runs out and that's when he sees a black SUV in which someone is dragging you away, while you thrash and kick to break free from his grip.

Javi runs as fast as he can, screaming for you to let go, and that's when the person dragging you away turns around and points the gun at him. Javier barely has time to hide behind a car when a projectile explodes and fortunately only hits the asphalt.

“It’s over! Let her go!” he shouts again, moving slightly to the side and making to look towards the two of you.

El Diablo holds you tightly by the neck, alternating between pointing the gun between your temple and Javier.

“I’ll kill her,” he hisses, and when Javier hears the trigger being pulled, he steps out into the open and points the gun at the man.

“It’s over.” he repeats, advancing cautiously towards you “Let her go.”

El Diablo points the gun at Javier and when he’s about to shoot, another shot is heard, paralyzing both you and Peña. The air seems to have become frozen and crystallized because neither you nor he know whether the shot fired hit one or the other.

What you do know is that each kept their eyes on the other, terrified that the other might have been hit and injured, or worse. Then, you realize that the shot was fired in the air by another agent who came up behind your almost-kidnapper.

What happens next is very confusing, you just know that Peña comes closer to you hugging you tightly to him enveloping you completely in his arms and that he feels you trembling as you abandon yourself against him.

His embrace is so strong that it almost seems like he wants to make you part of him. Peña narrows his eyes, almost relaxing against you. You're safe.

“Estás aquí, cariño. Usted está aquí. Estás a salvo, cariño.” (You're here, baby. You're here. You're safe, baby.) His words flow from his heart with such naturalness and passion that your eyes fill with tears.

He feels you relax against him and then wrap your arms around his neck, “Javi,” you murmur with such tenderness that he almost feels his heart explode with the strong emotion, “please, take me away.” you whisper this plea in his ear resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m holding you, I’m not leaving you,” he says, putting an arm around your waist and holding you close.

In other circumstances perhaps you’d have rejected him with revulsion condemning that gesture as something excessive, but not now, thinks Javier as he takes you away from there seeing lines of cars loading people from that monster's circle. Javier in other circumstances would have thrown some of them in himself, but now you are the priority. His priority.

When you get back to your room, the only thing you can do is rush to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You look in the mirror and see how this undercover mission has reduced you: your makeup is completely smudged, the top you were hiding the microphone in is half open, your skirt is torn in one corner. You rush to the sink and wash yourself frantically as if you wanted to erase everything that was the undercover mission. You open the sink and put your hands in the basin, the water completely wets your hands and you can't move a muscle, you're like paralyzed.

It’s you who insisted on having an active role in this mission, it’s you who proposed yourself and now look at where this obstinacy of yours has led you and how it has reduced you.

You felt like a piece of flesh without a will, as if you were not even a person, but an object in the hands of a madman. All of this makes you feel suddenly useless, as if you don't even have the right to feel everything you're feeling right now.

“If you need me, I’m out here.” You hear Javier’s voice far away, as if he wasn’t even really outside the door.

Your head is spinning and your stomach is in knots. You go back to staring at your reflection in the mirror, as if you couldn’t reconcile how you feel and what you see.

You feel broken, violated, and shattered. Your throat burns as if something has burned and scraped your throat.

It hurts. Everything hurts.

You place a hand on your throat, rivulets of water running down your neck ending up in the crease between your breasts. Your eyes fill with tears at the mere memory and as if in an attempt to escape that memory, you run out of the bathroom and open the door.

Javier is right behind the door and so as you leave you throw yourself, albeit involuntarily, against his chest. His arms immediately close around you and then places a hand behind your neck.

“You're safe now." He whispers softly in your ear, almost cradling you in his arms.

“Javi…” You moan as you let go and burst into tears, clutching his shirt tightly in your fist. You rub your face against his shirt, completely forgetting about your already smudged makeup.

“I am here, pequeño,” he whispers softly, as you sob, holding onto him even tighter. He gently caresses your wet cheek and places a kiss on your head, “Why don’t you change? You’ll take off these clothes, take a hot shower and then lie down for a bit.” he offers you without malice in his voice and you appreciate his attention towards you so much.

“Thanks, but I can't.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling more tears flying and wetting the cuff of his shirt.

Javi strokes your jawline, then places his thumb where there was a tear, wiping it away. He repeats the same gesture over and over again until you calm down and you can finally look him in the eye.

He doesn't say anything and you don't say anything. You stare at each other as if you're trying to talk with just your eyes. His eyes in this light seem to be almost black and it's as if they want to swallow you, you find yourself swallowing hard but unable to stop staring into his eyes and occasionally looking at his lips that seem so soft.

“Shall we sit down? It’s been a tough night for both of us.” You sniff, then nod and look down.

You and Javier sit on the bed. You are sitting on the tip as if you are going to run away at any moment, “Baby,” he calls making you look up at him again “now, you'll be fine." He caresses your cheek so gently that you almost dive into his arms again. It's not that bad to be close to him, even though you've always felt disgusted by the mere idea of being intimate with him.

“Javi,” you barely murmur his name “I was stupid for thinking I could do this. I’m stupid. Maybe I should turn in my badge, maybe…” you start babbling nonsensically.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop! Don't even say that.” he says, taking your face in his hands and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re shocked and that’s normal. It’ll get better in the next few days.” His lips curve slightly upwards “I’ll be by your side.” He tells you “If you want.” He quickly adds. “But in any case, never think that you are stupid, understand? You are not at all. You are one of the best agents I’ve ever met. Confident, determined and stubborn.” he says again smiling at you and making you smile weakly “We make a great team, you and me.”

You feel so vulnerable right now that his words almost feel like a punch in the stomach and don't make you feel better, they just make your eyes fill with tears. You were really afraid that they’d rape and kill you down there.

Javier lets his gaze wander along your body, but he does it neither with lust nor with mockery, he has a strange light in his eyes almost as if he felt pain for you and with you.

Silence falls between you, but it's a silence that feels like a hug and a sweet caress, it's not unpleasant despite the situation.

“Why don’t you go wear something more comfortable?” he suggests, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You nod, looking at the man next to you with a look full of gratitude, you would never have expected such care from him. You've always seen him as a tombeur de femme, as someone who will do anything to get what he wants. Tonight he could have been the protagonist of yet another arrest and slammed into another crime and instead he chose to be with you and not leave you alone in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” you say in a trembling breath.

“Don’t even say that,” he says, smiling at you. “Do you want a pair of sweatpants? I’ll get them for you,” he offers kindly, and your heart fills with a strange, great tenderness towards him.

“No, thanks. I do it myself.” you say, slowly standing up and approaching the closet where you keep your suitcase. You choose a pair of sweatpants and a short-sleeved t-shirt, “I'm going.” you say, pointing to the bathroom door, he simply nods.

As you close the door, you see him take off his jacket and remove the belt in which he has the gun. Only when you get back into the bathroom do you realize that you forgot the faucet on and that the water is still running. You turn it off. You take a deep breath and change.

When you come out of the bathroom, you find Javier lying down. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and long pants. He looks up at you, at your face. You notice how tired his face is, he's right, it's been a long and difficult evening for both of you.

“Light on or off?” he asks as soon as you lie down next to him.

“Javi, would you hug me?” you ask, turning your torso towards him.

He smiles sweetly at you and it's the first time that you reciprocate with tenderness too, he doesn't answer, but hugs you directly leaving the light on, while you close your eyes and you abandon yourself to that sweet, warm embrace.

It's not bad at all. His sweet and strong embrace manages to take away — even if only in part — all the fear accumulated in the last few hours, now all you need is to relax and try to surrender to that sweetness. Peña envelops you completely, his warm breath tickles your hair and neck and you find yourself smiling thinking about how much you tried to push him away and how much he himself tried to push you away and yet now you're here huddled together thinking that you're not so bad after all.

[mikimakiboo]

Looking at your Time Travelers AU (very good work by the way, fun concept and good writing!) and got to Nightmare's whole gay crisis and- damn. wow. I have been struck with the visceral image of Nightmare getting back to his own time only to write a classic bodice-ripper novel (probably under some flowery pseudonym) with character suspiciously reminiscent of a certain set of skeletons... bonus points if Dust the history nerd mentions offhandedly reading a translation as some sort of history research thing because "Works from the era give a good understanding of cultural norms during that period!"

Been offline all day woops, also explain to me why my wrist starts hurting only when I want to write and not when I'm doing something else

Thank you !!! I'm glad you like my work ! :D and yeah Nightmare's going through it

I actually thought about Nightmare writing a book ! I just didn't share it :D but it is definitely an idea I had, Nightmare writing maybe about their journey or simply writing a love story to mimic what he wants to experience with them but doing it in secret because he's too embarrassed to show them

His pseudonym would be something like "L'oiseau de nuit" (Night bird) or something like that, giving a little hint but not too much as to remain anonymous, but anyone who knows him very well could probably guess it's him

And yeah if Dust even vaguely mentions reading one of his books (because he would probably write multiple), even without Dust knowing he's the author, he would totally freeze and not know what to say, he didn't expect to be caught and he really didn't expect that his books would still exist and even be translated centuries after writing them

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi, do you have any recs for fics in which paul just gives in and lets john go? Like, he just gives john the space he wants?

Hi! This is a great ask. I assume you mean a story where Paul actually lets John go, because John actually wants space—not a painful "I'm dying inside, but if this is what he wants, and anyway, I'm not a girl, so it's not as if I could..."/"Fight for me me, Paul, tell me you want me and I'll forget Yoko and go down on you right here, with MLH's camera trained on us! No, don't get married, wtf"--scenario...?

...And, I admit, I'm mostly blanking on this one. But I think it would make for a great and unusual story. Done well, it could be the credible version of "Army Buddies," and the wholesome alternative to "Leader John dumps Paul for Yoko." If it hasn't been written yet, I hope someone will.

As a McLennon fan, I would obviously prefer for this very act of generous surrender—If you love someone, set them free—to eventually lead to a sizzling, middle-aged reunion of two cool, swishy eccentrics...*blinks innocently*

The story I could think of that comes closest to what you're asking for is Get a Job, Cop! by @javelinbk. It's set in 1969, and ends with John and Paul deciding to move on, but they do so without leaving behind scorched earth. It's sad, but...peaceful, in the end? And it's from Paul's POV.

Another story I had to think of is Coast Starlight by bookofapril (Paul/Robert Fraser in the 70's.) First of all, this is a stellar fic and deserves a million reads and comments and kudos, so go there and read it, no matter what. Yes, "it's not a pairing I normally read," fine, but, you know, in select cases excellence trumps everything, and this story is one of them. But I also, truly, think it fits the ask in a way, because it shows a Paul who has truly moved on from John, and found his own way of being and making music and making love in the world. It's a wonderful "love after love" story that feels absolutely believable. If John's well-being is your main concern, it sounds as if he's living his best life, too, so no worries there. It's mostly the world who can't accept the break-up.

Finally, if anyone reading this can think of a fic fitting this excellent ask, please add it and reblog! Thank you!