#they weren't seen as children. as 6 year olds who liked to play on a tire swing or play ball. no. no they were bad and dangerous

[dirtytransmasc]

I specify it because even if by definition boys = children, but, due to a lot of propaganda and social perspective, boys are often not treated like actual children. this is especially true for brown and black boys, via racism and colorism, and more specifically in this situation, islamophobia and the propaganda spread during the war on terror. they are seen as more mature, in less need of care or comfort, more dangerous/violent, or outright denied the mercy of being a child, and are just viewed a terrorist rebel fighters (this all varies from person to person, situation to situation, context and nuance applied. so take that with a grain of salt. I live in the us, for example, so the way we've been conditioned to see Arab boys is outright disgusting, but how I was conditioned to see them is different to how someone in a different country, even a different state might be conditioned to see them)

so yes, while they are literally children, they are often not given the mercy of being children. again, this is all about perspective and language, and it may not apply to your way of thinking, it doesn't apply to how I think, but I have seen far too many conflate boys to men, or some in-between, not children, but not men either.

overall, my point is that the boys and men deserve acknowledgement, what that means to each individual can be different. black and brown boys are more often as a threat or that they are growing up to be a man who will then be a threat.

I hope this makes sense, I struggled to put how I felt and what I've seen and my point into words, but I tried my best.

the men and boys are innocent too.

we cry "the innocent women and children" to appeal to the masses, to try and force their sympathy, but the men and boys are innocent too.

I have seen sons crying out for their mothers, their fathers, their siblings. I have seen them break down at the loss of their families. I have seen them cling to their dead and grieve.

I have seen fathers cradle their dead children, seen them kiss their faces and hold their little hands. I have seen them faint with grief when asked to identify the dead. I have seen them carry their sons and daughters. I have seen them fasting to provide what little they can for their families.

I have seen men and boys digging through the rubble with just their bare hands, I have seen them comforting strangers, playing with children, rocking them, hushing them, even if the face of such imminent danger. I have seen them cry, seen them grieve, seen them break down into each other's arms, seen them be selfless, beyond selfless, becoming something I don't have a word for.

I have seen the men who are doctors refuse to leave their patients, even when they have no medicine or supplies to give them, even when they're threatened with bombings. I have seen fathers who have lost all their children pick orphans up into their arms and proclaim them their child so they are not alone. I have seen men and boys digging pets out of the rubble.

the men are innocent too. the men and boys are being hurt and killed too. the men and boys are grieving too. the men and boys are scared too. the men and boys are fighting to save their people too. the men and boys deserve to be fought for too.

[agirlwithdemonblood]

The Broken Fan - Chapter 1

Pairings: Jensen Ackles & Reader (Read as first person!)

Series Summary: Always a nobody, always invisible, will this convention change things?

Chapter Summary: Growing up was never easy for me, but finally I may have found some light in my very dark world.

Warnings: Mentions of death, parents death, mentions of abuse, homelessness, anxiety, ect

Series Masterlist here! Main masterlist here!

Do you ever feel like if you disappeared today, nobody would notice? The world wouldn't stop, your disappearance wouldn't be plastered on milk cartons or across news channels, nobody would even know or care. That was my life. Nobody knew me, or cared for me. Nobody noticed me, not really. I was a ghost, an invisible presence left alone, all alone.

My parents died when I was a baby, I was too young to remember who they were or what happened really. I know what my Aunt told me, they wanted a night to themselves, so she babysat me. Around 4 in the morning she received a phone call saying that they passed away, asleep in their beds when the fire took their lives.

I don't even remember having parents, I have photographs of us together, but their faces are unknown to me. I didn't know them, I didn't get the chance.

After the fire, I stayed with my Aunt. Things were weird there. She'd look at me with such heartbreak and disgust and I had no idea why. I was just a kid, what did I do?

But I must have done something wrong, because when I turned 6 she told me she couldn't take care of me anymore, and the next morning two kind people packed me in their car and drove me away. I never saw my Aunt again.

My first foster home was alright, I was happy for a little bit. There were a lot of kids in the house, various ages, both sexes. I didn't like the kids too much. They were loud and annoying, and hyper. They always wanted to play stupid games like hide and seek, or tag. I didn't want to play dumb games, I wanted something real. I wanted to connect, to have somebody next to me.

And eventually, I did.

Henry, my foster dad, was always there for me. He actually cared about me, noticed me, heard me. He would spend hours at night reading me fairy tales until I fell asleep, and during the day he'd teach me things like how to ride a bike or read.

I had an actual connection with him, he was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and I loved him more than anybody. I thought I finally had somebody permeant in my life, but I was wrong.

My foster mom Sandy didn't like me. She hated the fact that her husband had his attention on me, and she thought it was strange for a six year old to bond with an older man rather than the children all around me. She said it wasn't healthy.

So he was taken away from me. After many tears shed and heartbreaking hugs, I said goodbye to the only person who's ever seen me for me, and moved to a new foster home.

The new home was horrible. The parents weren't friendly, and I was the only child in their care. I was forced to follow their schedule which consisted of three boring things, every day.

Cleaning, school, homework, food, bed. No reading fairy tales, no riding my bike, no playing with toys.

I hated it there. I felt so alone, so invisible. So I left. I ran away thinking I'd be better off somewhere else. But as a 7 year old girl, I didn't get very far and as soon as I returned, things got bad.

At first, it was the belt. My foster dad would smack my arms hard, than my legs, sometimes my face if I was a bad enough kid. If I cried or continued to disobey, the belt was replaced with his palms. This happened for years, non stop torture.

I didn't stop trying to run away, every few months I'd take off, praying that nobody would find me, they'd leave me alone but everytime I was brought back and beaten worse.

Finally, the parent's gave up on me and I went to another home. But I was so angry, so filled with anxiety and rage that I drove away anybody who could possibly care for me.

By the time I was 18, I had been in 13 Foster homes. My last one wasn't too bad, but I didn't talk, I barely ate, I didn't connect. I didn't want another Henry situation. I didn't want to care about others because I knew they'd leave me.

And I was right.

On my 18th Birthday, my present was a knock at my door from my parents telling me I've aged out and I need to leave. I received a check to get me started, a bag of food, and a cell phone, than I was left alone.

The money wasn't much, definetly not enough to get an apartment so I decided to get a car instead. I ended up using all my money to buy a crappy little Honda Civic and I've called it my home ever since.

Sleeping in my car wasn't half bad, I had my own space, I didn't need to listen to anybody or share it with anybody, it was all mine.

One night I parked beside a motel that had free Wifi, and I was bored so I decided to find something to watch, I never really watched TV or movies, but tonight I wanted to.

The first show I found was something called Supernatural, and for some reason I felt a connection, like something was telling me to watch it.

God, am I happy that I did.

The show felt like home, it gave me something to look forward to, something to provide me comfort on the hardest of days. I felt connected, like I knew the characters and I was living their life.

And one of the characters, Dean.. He awoke something inside of me that I never knew was there. He made me feel like I wasn't crazy, that life was hard but I needed to keep going.

The more I watched, the more I started to feel like I belonged somewhere. The show pulled me out of the darkness slowly, convincing me that life was better if I was here to live it. It gave me hope. It allowed me to breathe again.

Today is my 25th birthday, and I was celebrating like I always did, drinking beer in my car and listening to music while mindlessly scrolling through a page for Supernatural fans.

I froze when I glanced about an article about Supernatural's newest convention, which happened to be a few hours from where I lived. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about going, people like me don't go to shows or events like this, but I needed this. I really needed it.

I checked my bank account and nearly leaped with joy when I realized I had enough for a ticket, living in my car finally payed off.

Without hesitation, I bought a ticket for the convention and for the first time, I felt excited. I felt hope beaming inside of me. I could finally be surrounded with people with similar interests, and feel normal for once. Hopefully.

The next morning, I walked into the office building I worked at, and made my boss Brad a coffee, like he always expected. Knocking on his door, I took a deep breath before entering, walking towards his marble desk and placing the coffee on the table.

He nodded before taking the cup in his hand and sipping it, like he always did. His eyes flickered up towards me when he noticed I haven't left yet.

"Do you need something?" He asked.

I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the desk, "I just wanted to ask you something if you had a moment."

He nodded for me to go on and I shook off the anxiety nearly suffocating me. Confidence, I need to have confidence.

"I was wondering if I could take a week off starting Friday evening, there's somewhere I need to go out of town."

He stared back at me, the silence was suffocating, the tension high. He shook his head and looked back down to the papers scattered across his desk.

"No, sorry that won't work."

It felt like a punch to my gut, I haven't taken one day off, I constantly worked overtime, I did everything and anything for this ass, and I can't take some time off?

I swallowed down the nerves and sat in the chair in front of his desk, noting the way he stared at me confused. "Sir, all due respect I have been working non stop for the past 7 months and I have never asked for a day off, I've never taken a sick day and I always have my work done, all I need is-"

Before I could finish my sentence, his hand was raised, eyes locked on mine. "I said no Y/N, is that all?"

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I stood from my spot, making my way towards the door. Anger was bubbling through my system and I felt like I couldn't breath.

I turned quickly and sighed, "Actually, there's one more thing."

He scoffed and looked up towards me, awaiting my response. I swallowed hard and frowned, "I am not going to be back tomorrow, I quit."

His mouth dropped open and he stared back in shock, but I didn't stay long to hear whatever response he was going to throw at me. I rushed as fast as I could out of the building back to my car. I slammed the door as the tears rushed down my face.

What did I do? Why did I quit my job for a convention? What the hell was so special about this damn show.

I finally let go of all the feelings I was holding onto, bursting into sobs of pain and frustration. Life was harsh and unforgiving, every moment of hope was washed away.

The only thing I had left was the convention, and even than I was clearly going to be the outcast, the weird girl who looks like she's never showered or slept a day in her life.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe things would be different here, the fans seem nice enough online, why wouldn't they be in person?

And if Dean Winchester was still inside Jensen, I knew he wouldn't look at me like I was garbage, if he ever even noticed me.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[the-ravenclaw-werewolf]

Hey, I just wanted to ask, have you seen Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3? Or not yet?

When you do, can you answer these questions here?

Beware, because spoilers here.

1. How do the characters react to Rocket's backstory? How do they react when he's injured at the start very much? Does someone suspect there being a reactor in his chest could mean someone did something horrible to Rocket in the past before? Could Emma maybe even relate to him there when the High Ev. Reveals that they were never emant for Counter Earth, like how her family was never getting adopted? How does she react to him being having numbers (89P13) on him like her?

2. How do they react to Starmora's relationship?

3. How do they like Drax and Mantis funny relationship?

3. What's their reaction to the High Ev?

4. How do they fair well to Rocket's friends last screen time?

5. How they fair with seeing Rocket's almost demise as Peter refuses to give up on him yet?

6. How do they process the children in the High Ev's ship to be colonized?

7. How do they process the planet the High Ev. laid to waste?

8. How would they react to the High Ev. Being defated finally?

9. How would they react to Rocket's not killing him in after all he did to him when he could have?

10. How would they react to Rocket's scene with the baby raccoons?

11. How would they react to Peter almost dying?

12. How do they react to the finale where everyone decided to go different ways after?

13. How do they react Drax accidentally hurting a child with a fast ball to her face?

14. How do they react to Pete coming back to Earth and meeting his Granpda gain after years of being of not knowing if the other was even alive?

15. How they react to Cosmo and her Bag Dog Problem?

16. How do they react to Nebula's growth in this movie? To her tears after Rocket wakes up because he was the one person who was with her when they both weren't bliped out?

17. How do they react to the finally where Gomora goes home to the Ravegers in the finale?

18. How do they react to everyone dancing to "Dog Days Are Over", finally being able to just celebrate being able to just have fun after the hurricane has passed? How do they react to Rocket going from a primal scream of anguish from what the High Ev. Did to his friends to a primal whoop of delight after everything he's been through?

You can answer there whenever! Don't stress if you haven't seen the movie! Just take you your time! Take care.

Sorry for the late reply, here you go!

They would find Rocket's backstory tragic and horrific, seeing how some animals are also treated cruelly in their worlds. The more observant of the 40 would notice the reactor and put the pieces together. But Emma would definitely feel more sympathetic to Rocket since they both were given false promises only for them to be smashed to pieces.

(Assuming they watched the other movies of the MCU), they would have a slight understanding that Peter was grieving and was trying to cope with it. But they also understand that this Gamora was not the one that the GOTG had grown up with, so it shouldn't be her responsibility to try to fill the position the old Gamora left behind. So they're glad to see that Peter and Gamora reconcile, with Peter having come to terms with his Gamora is really gone and that no one can replace her, and with Gamora seeing value in both Peter and the team, but doesn’t give up her autonomy for him.

They would find it really cute and sweet of how they both offer emotional support and they play off each other so well.

Like Peter, they would find him as the typical tyrant that is full of bulls*** and would personally love to punch him in the face for his actions, especially the animal lovers of the 40.

Most of the 40 would cry hard, especially those who have loved ones on the other side just like Rocket. And the line, “Can I come?” would be a punch to the gut for all of them.

Most of them would feel Peter’s pain in his fight to bring Rocket back, some of them wishing that they were able to save their own loved ones.

Would proceed to hate the High Ev. more, and I can see Ciel and Emma definitely being the most horrified.

Now they would want him dead by the next act.

Big cheers. Genuinely, as even the stoic members can’t hide their joy. 

Some would be mad that he didn’t while others would see this as a moment of triumph that Rocket didn’t have to stoop to his level to beat him.

They would start tearing up, as seeing from being compared that the babies were cowering away from the High Ev.’s hand vs the babies basically crawling on top on Rocket, and when he carries them all, but stares at the other animals who were also trapped, seeing the plight in his eyes of wanting to save all the animals.

Very worried but then relieved that he came out okay.

Would feel bittersweet about it but they are ultimately happy that they all get a happy ending.

Most would wince, while a few would have the guts to laugh.

Find the moment very sweet and happy that the two finally reunited.

“GET BACK HERE AND TAKE IT BACK!” -The dog lovers of the 40.

Are proud of the growth she was able to achieve and that she is become more open with emotions.

Very happy for her.

Glad that everyone in their own way got their happy ending and are taking the next step into their lives.

[beevean]

The fandom pendulum is indeed a fickle thing

Though I'm curious, would you say the sonic fandom has generation gaps between its "factions"?

Absolutely.

Someone who was, say, 8 in 2006 when they first played '06 is now 25, old enough to participate in fandom discussions and defend their childhood game now that the backlash has died down.

People who don't like the Classic style are usually people who weren't old enough to play the Classic games when they were relevant, and are not used to the slightly more archaic style (I've seen people who didn't even like Mania because of this). The attempts of revitalizing Classic in the 2010s fell flat for them... hence, the disdain for the "Meta" era, and the acclaim for Frontiers who attempts to be a love letter to the Adventure games in spirit.

The Classic zealots are now in their late 30s, early 40s. Many of them have moved on. They're not the authority of the fandom anymore.

And this is why I say that in a few years, people whose first game was Forces will come out of the woods and defend it. The game is already about to turn 6: children who played it are young teens now.

[motsimages]

There is a peculiar experience of Spanish 90s kids that I don't know if it was frequent in other countries at the time (particularly in Europe, but I welcome more input) which is: The Drug.

Well, everyone has seen a junky, specially if you live in certain areas or go to certain places but in the 90s, as a 5 year old kid, The Drug had an omnipresent presence that was difficult to understand and it fascinated and scared me.

This will be long and it will be full of references to well, drugs (particularly heroin) and addiction. It is recent history of Spain as well and if you are learning Spanish or planning to come to Spain, it might interest you because it still has ramifications and references in pop culture. More under the cut.

When I was a baby (so last couple of years in the 80s), my mother remembers taking me to a nearby park and having a kindergarden come to play. Before playing, the children would all spread out and yell "here!". The teacher would go wearing gloves and take a syringe to put in a bag. After this, children would be allowed to play there.

One could think "why go to that park then, maybe go to another one cleaner" but syringes in parks was standard. I remember seeing some when I was around 10 years old (the last one, I think). I also remember a nightmare I had when I was about 6 where the park we would usually play had syringes instead of sand. For years, seeing syringes was a trigger for me that would guarantee me nightmares that night. Even now I struggle with the sight of it.

I remember when we were 4 or so we were shown a shortfilm with cartoons about The Drug. It was quite abstract and it scared the hell out of me. The Drug was some big purple blurb who came from underground. I do not know why would they show this to children so young, probably to scare them in an attempt at preventing drug addiction but I'm not sure that was the wisest move.

There were ads created by the Fundación de Ayuda contra la Drogadicción (Foundation to Help against Drug Addiction) that fascinated me. I do not remember them much but they were everywhere and then they stopped (I guess when things improved?). They weren't necessarily scary but there were many. I remember one about a teenager playing basketball on his own and a voice over because I couldn't understand what it was about (I just watched it for the first time since 1992 and if it isn't a sign of the times*... the message is "the ultimate responsible person in the fight against drugs is not a politician or a high profile personality. You are").

You can look up some of the ads in Youtube if you look for the name of the foundation, the latest where in the beginning of the 2000s. This one below was very famous. The "NO." at the end was everywhere too. It really is a very interesting and long-lasting campaing to study if you like marketing and advertisement:

So yes, it was everywhere but nobody really explained anything and it kind of stopped around the 2000 so by the time I was a teenager, it felt like a dream I had. Only once I was an adult and I could see the history of it all and the chronology I could understand what was all that about and that I may have been overly sensitive to it all but it really was everywhere.

A bit out of track, I don't know if it stopped being A Thing in the 2000s for real or if they just considered it so. But it kind of stopped being everywhere. EDIT: I looked it up and publich health politics improved a lot in the 90s, so things did change and got better globally. Statistics from the 80s and drugs in Spain are WILD.

It is true however that the heroin problem we had in the 80s-90s hasn't got as bad (I think cocaine is now the main one, even though heroin is showing up near but smoked, not injected). Heroin entered Europe (yes, Europe, Spain is the main door for many drugs that go up north) through Galicia, due to the fact that the dictatorship ended in 1975 and many corrupt politicians had (and still have) ties to big drug dealers. [*Remember the ad about the basketball kid? Isn't it interesting that the one responsible for not being an addict is said kid and that it clearly states "it's not a politician"?]

In short, there are villages in Galicia where a whole generation was lost to drugs. You can watch the movie "Heroína" (2005) about the Galician mothers who decided to fight back once they saw how their children were falling one after the other under the charms of The Drug. By now, I think you have understood that The Drug is heroin, and that is how many people speak of it in Spain. The global idea behind La Droga is heroin.

Other recent-ish movies that show more or less life in Spain at the time and how young people got into drugs could be Barrio (1998) and Bailame el agua (2000, apparently translated as "Fill me with life"). Barrio is a classic, even though the drug is not a main character and even barely appears, but it helps seeing Madrid at the time (featuring my neighbourhood in one scene) and how the situation was starting to change. Bailame el agua is a bit Requiem for a dream, I feel it's a bit out of time in that, as I said, things were starting to change in the 2000s.

However, if you want to see the depths of the whole thing in the 80s, there is a whole sub-genre of cinema dedicated to it: el cine quinqui (I write it like that so that you don't read "kinki" as "kinky" because it isn't that AT ALL). Quinqui is a very poor neighborhood kind of person, marginalised, petty criminal. And this cinema features this kind of people as the main characters (and also the main actors, as the actors were generally poor neighbourhood kids). The main representative of this genre (the creator even) is Eloy de la Iglesia. His movies are not Good Cinema but they are almost documentaries of the time, to the point that I think only him and another secondary actor of his have reached the 2010 alive. It was a short-lived genre not only because of the topic but because his actors died very young, within a couple of years, in drug-related things (overdose, car accidents for being high, AIDS...). Imagine Trainspotting knowing that all the actors were poor kids casted for the role and that heroin was rampant the whole time whey were making the movie. The main movie from this director and genre is El Pico (1983). Speaking about it would require its own post, let me know if you want me to write about it.

Anyways, now that we have a glimpse to the chronology backwards, we can see (as I just saw while writing this) that one of the last ads of the FAD was in 2002, Bailame el agua was made in 2000 and Heroína in 2005. So by 2005 it seems people were ready to speak about what happened 20 years earlier and was still happening 10 years before, even though some people considered this epidemic still reached the year 2000.

In 2007, La torre de Suso was made, another movie related to the 80s drug epidemic. It is a comedy (very funny, do recommend) about a group of friends who reunite after 10 years because one of them, Suso, died. It is set in Asturias (also the North of Spain, relatively near to Galicia) and I mention it because here is where we can start to see the shift from present to past. These 40 year old men were all 80s junkies and Suso is the only one who couldn't quit the drug.

This serves me to connect with a general representation of the generation itself and of the concept "Yonki de los 80", the ones who didn't die and didn't quit and are still sticking around as shadows from what it once was. In 2014, a sitcom called Aída featured El Luisma who had a catchphrase: "Ah, so because El Luisma has taken all kinds of drugs he is now an idiot, right?". Given the age of the actor and the character, he is more a product of the 90s than the 80s but still reflects that period of, let's say, 10 years when it was easy and everywhere and everyone knew someone who had a problem. Now, many of the people who were into heroin in the 80s-90s are in their 60s, many are clean but still have health-issues related to it, or their mind is not up to speed, so to say.

When I was a teenager (late 90s-early 2000s), there was a junky, probably in his 30s who liked to hang out with a group of teenagers (some of them are now addicts themselves, who would have thought). He was chaotic and lost in his mind, but he was friendly and chatty and never gave any trouble. This wasn't an exception. All neighbourhoods and parks have a junky. Everyone in my generation knows someone like this. Everyone in my parents' generation knows (or knew) several people like this, some of them direct family members. This also shows how things have changed, at least in the surface level.

In any case, these characters and the consequences of their actions still appear frequently in media and are still a reference. I only mentioned movies because I think they are easier to follow and they give more information than songs, even though there is a very famous pop-rock group, Estopa, that honors the tradition of speaking about daily life of poor people in songs and already in his first album (1999) had songs about addiction. There are books too, like Canijo, published in 2022, that tell the story of a Sevillian family and the addiction of Canijo, one of their kids. Apparently it's parly autobiography. I haven't read it because this whole thing, as fascinating as it is to me, is also very triggering and I have a very vivid imagination, particularly through books.

It is a topic that still affects me emotionally, although not as much as when I was younger. It was a thing that was very very present and luckily it's not as bad as it once was. It really marked a couple of generations and I think I kind of feel we are alone now, it's not really spoken of (because it hurts, I understand) but it permeates jokes and worries and I feel it's necessary to still speak about it so that younger generations understand where some things come from.

[mariellewritesalot]

14 Going on 24: To All the Girls I've Been Before

Sometimes I still feel like a teenager in my twenties.

Except not really, because I turn 24 in a few days and I find myself in a small town in Sevilla, Spain with my own apartment just a 6-minute walk from the high school I'll be working in for a school year. I'm doing adult things, like going to the local bakery to order a cake for myself and two boxes of pastries to share with the faculty, paying my own bills, cooking all my meals, booking train tickets for the holidays, and reserving a table at a restaurant in full Spanish without panic. My real teenage self had different dreams fed to her by the innate trophy-daughter urge to please her parents: go to law school, find a nice Catholic boy to marry, and stay in the Philippines forever.

You might have seen it on social media, the teenage girl in her twenties meme. It's a revival of everything we've ever loved growing up as girls together. It's a nice thing, this reclamation of girlhood. An attempt to somehow heal our inner children and reminisce on the times when we were only imagining what it would be like to be an adult. The mythical womanhood. A real 13 going on 30 dilemma. I wish we weren't in such a rush to grow up, but that's the irony of it all. As a grown woman, I often wonder about the girl I was, because despite all this I know I will never be her again.

She was ambitious, naive, too nice, but also a little arrogant it intimidated a lot of people with whom she could have been really good friends. I try to think fondly of the girl I was, and I honor her by preserving some of her interests that will never really go away, even now. I remember every young adult series I was ever obsessed with, alongside the sitcoms with each season I had saved on my netbook. I used to make physical mix CDs and now I curate Spotify playlists. I still get a little excited when a One Direction song plays out of the blue. I hear an indie song from years ago, like now as I type this while Cigarette Daydreams by Cage the Elephant is playing, and wish I could hear it for the first time again. I see old Facebook posts made by teenage me and chuckle at her drama. I unironically consume the Twilight Saga media when I feel a little sad, no matter how cringy people make it out to be. I love pink, books, letters, and stickers. I know every High School Musical song by heart. I have a weirdly specific knowledge of R&B and Hip-hop songs inherited from my brothers. I pray the same prayer at night, the one taught by my parents when I still shared a bedroom with them until I was fifteen.

A little confession: sometimes, despite loving the fact that I am wildly independent, I still miss having my mother around; even if it means having the occasional petty fights. Along with the tiny resentments of never fully living up to the image in her head, failing some of the dreams she also had as a girl, and rejecting the projection. I'm the most stubborn person I know, but sometimes I wish I could crawl under her table at her old office as I did so many times before, and cry before taking that nap I so vehemently refused but always took.

I look at old photos of myself as a teen and wish I was kinder to that girl, so I could unlearn the mean things I think about myself on occasion. One night on a casual doomscroll on Twitter, I read something along the lines of us seeing different versions of ourselves over the years and yearning for those times, how we never fully appreciate the current version until they become another face in a photo from years ago. A memory you didn't know you'd create.

I think about the people I had in my life then: friends, mentors, crushes, classmates, crappy boyfriends (ugh), and want to forgive her for the poor life decisions. She was forgiving to a fault after all, but she still makes me so proud when I remember how she learned her boundaries and stuck with them in the most crucial moments. The ones who were meant to stay are still with me to this day, the others who left have also left their mark on this version of me now, in some way. Some people have already arrived and others I'm looking forward to meeting soon. The growing pains feel especially potent as I continue to learn that change is constant and that sometimes who or what I want isn't necessarily good for me. The universe makes it known too often; I have to learn it by heart at some point.

Ultimately, I'd like to think she'd be so proud of me. Maybe, I turned out better than she hoped. I could also be such a stranger to her, a disappointment; her preparation for the real world. I still have a lot of work to do before I'm the adult she would have trusted and aspired to be, but knowing I'm on that path makes me confident that I can handle my problems like a grown-up. Being in my early twenties is to straddle the line between too young and too old, wanting to always do the mature thing, but sometimes still feeling like I'm a kid playing the role of someone who has it together. I don't. I don't think anyone does, really, not even older adults I know with much more interesting stories and problems. I try not to control everything and let things be because sometimes it's the only thing to do. Plans do fail, but somehow, things always work out for the better.

When I think of that transition from being just a girl to an adult with actual consequences, I remember Rory Gilmore crying in front of her grandfather at the end of Gilmore girls season 5; when she realized that she was no longer the golden child she was, but a young adult that might not be good enough for all of her aspirations.

I think about such tender moments of my girlhood, all the times I was teased for being chubby or having curly, unruly hair that earned me nicknames like Lion King or Hagrid. The first time I ever wore eyeliner to a family Christmas party, an uncle commented with such disdain, thinking I was doing it for attention. I'm weirdly familiar with terms like "malandi" or its English variations, even when I was just being friendly. In my first high school relationship, people gossiped about how my then-boyfriend was only with me so he could get higher grades, not for my looks. I know how they talked about a relationship they knew nothing about, completely overlooking how much I was hurt by this boy they adored just because he played some sport. I remember being a teenager, learning what it means to be attracted to another person romantically, and having a relative tell my mom, "Marielle's so into boys, ano?" even when I was single at the time and didn't really care for anything but starting college. There were weird older men who were creeps, and yet somehow I was made out to be some kind of a mastermind that lured them in. I was just a girl.

The beauty and innocence of girlhood are also marred by these moments of misogyny, sadly looking like a rite of passage every girl I know has gone through--one way or another.

At 16, all the pain I felt then felt like the rest of my life. A few days shy of 24, I realize that some pains are just too great that they will always stay, faintly, but life is so ridiculously unpredictable that there is no way we'll live on without incredible moments to show for it.

I look back on the year I just had in disbelief because so much has happened, most of them completely unexpected while others were dreams I worked hard to make my reality. I finished my undergraduate thesis on Filipino food and restaurants in the Filipino-American diaspora and graduated Magna Cum Laude from UP Diliman. I was in love with someone who I thought fit me so perfectly and felt the full aftermath of that heartbreak, lamented the impossibility of long-distance relationships, and believed I'd never do better; only to discover more about myself in the next few months and move on to a more beautiful love I never thought possible. I got into the 61st Silliman University National Writers Workshop, on my first (and could have been last, because I didn't know then when I'd be back in the PH) try, and spent two magical weeks in Dumaguete learning more about writing with the most amazing group of writers I now consider another chosen family.

I also outgrew some close friends. I had to process this unworldly form of devastation by going through all the stages of grief a million times over. I've reflected on what I can do better to nurture my relationships, and grown more appreciative of the unconditional friendships I have that continue to withstand time. I kept learning Spanish for two years and moved to Spain to explore more opportunities. It's been one of the most interesting years of my life so far, the emotions rising and falling like waves that sometimes consumed me whole. I've been through so much in year 23 that I'm both thrilled and horrified for the big 24, a year away from my expected quarter-life crisis.

I've always loved birthdays, by the way, and maybe I'll move on from it the older I get. I always look forward to the sweet messages and spending time with my friends and family. I like welcoming another year as an opportunity for me to try and do better. For this year, though, I don't have solid plans. It's on a Monday and I have classes to teach until 2:30pm. I reserved a cake with flowers all around it and a dedication written in Spanish, something the lady at the bakery wrote for me. I might take a few pictures with my film camera, invite some work colleagues for drinks, and cook Filipino spaghetti the way my mom does it. Maybe I'll call her, think of the ending to the movie, Lady Bird (2017). I could take the bus to the city center or enjoy a nice dinner alone with my Kindle. I might take calls from my friends and cry over their messages, miss everyone a little deeper.

I'll never be the girl I was, but she's still inside me somewhere. There's comfort in the growth. How to Say Goodbye by Paul Tiernan is playing through my laptop speakers. Someday, I'll look back to this time and remember what it felt like to anticipate my 24th birthday in Spain: a little lonely, slightly thrilling, and inevitably different.

I'll be changed, but not really--and it will be okay.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The last of us - Broken together 6

You stumbled out of the small boat used to cross the river and followed your party in silence. Ellie had narrowly missed being bitten, and had saved Henry and Sam from clickers. You had been trapped between infected and Kathleen's men as they scrambled to get away. One man took the opportunity to grab you and punch you, hitting your wound. It took stabbing him with your knife in the neck to get him off you, only for you to be pounced on by an infected. By the time you'd got further enough away from them Ellie was already crawling under a van to get away.

Joel grabbed your shoulder pulling you along with him as Kathleen was taken down by a clicker.

For hours you all walked, in silence until you came to an old motel. Picking a second floor room you all dropped your things and settled down. You slid into the bathroom and locked the door. To your surprise the fawcett spluttered water into the sink. Enough to wet a cloth and clean your wound. Holding your breath you pulled back your shirt revealing the ripped flesh.

"fuck." You gritted your teeth and pressed the cold cloth to your skin. There was no way you'd be able to stitch it on your own, but you weren't about to worry everyone. Using what you had left of medical supplies you covered it in a gauze and tapped it up as best you could. You grabbed a new shirt from your bag and threw the bloodied one in the bathtub.

When you returned to the other room Joel was cooking some tins of beans, the children were in the bedroom reading a comic book. You dropped onto the sofa as gently as you could without causing suspicion. Joel looked over at you, his eyebrows drawn down in concern.

"I'm fine, just tired." You said. Slowly you zoned out of the conversation again, staring out of the window at the setting sun. Joel handed you a bowl of beans that you held in your hands for a while. Joel tapped your foot with his.

"hey, you gotta eat."

You blinked yourself back to him and nodded.

"sure." You said sitting yourself up straighter and spooning food into your mouth. Joel was talking to Henry both of them fairly serious. You heard parts of it, the story of how he'd got medicine for his brother and you thought back to the things you'd done for Frank's pills. You'd worked with Joel and Tess to do it, but He'd never know what you did in that hospital room. What you had to do to get them while he waited outside. If only you hadn't given your weapons to the guy at the door.

You had slid closer to Joel, your legs and shoulders pressing together. You caught Ellie looking over at you.

Henry commented on the late hour and it was decided the kids should sleep. You followed Joel and him into the bedroom.

"hey, you're a good kid ya know." You told Ellie as she tucked herself into bed. You saw it at times like this, how she looked just like her mum. Anna had been a friend of sorts a long time ago. It had been more than fifteen years since you'd seen her but you had known she was pregnant. There was no denying that this was her child. The knife at her side gave it away if nothing else did.

Joel stood close to you. Ellie smiled.

"listen," she whispered, "if you two wanna play grab ass you should probably go to another room. Don't think Henry wants to see that." She laughed. Joel scowled and you, you tried to ignore the jolt in your heart.

"night short stack." You ruffled her hair and walked out of the room. You sat as far away from Joel as you could without it being awkward. Though it was definitely awkward.

Once Henry had fallen asleep you turned to Joel who had laid himself on the floor so you could have the couch.

"I think, no, I know I knew her mum." You breathed out. Joel looked up at you.

"Ellie's?"

"yeah. Her name was Anna. I met her years ago. Last time I saw her she was pregnant and I left her. I left her alone. She was a firefly and it pissed me off so I just went. If I'd stayed-"

"hey, you can't think like that. We all do shitty things but you didn't get anyone killed okay." He squeezed your knee, "get some sleep, it's been a long day."

You nod and settle down Joel directly below you on the floor. Sleep consumed you but it wasn't restful. Nightmares plagued you until the sun rose in the sky. Before moving you lay still looking up at the aged ceiling testing your breaths against your wound.

"morning sweetheart." You heard Joel as he crossed the room. The nickname stirring something in you. With a grunt you sat up seeing the coffee he was pouring into a flask for you. You held it, letting the warmth fill you. Flipping your legs over the edge you allowed room for Henry to sit on the other end.

"he's pretty tight lipped, what is the situation here?" He asked you.

"oh, there's no story, we were all going the same way I guess. Joel was a friend of my uncle's. Made sense to travel together." You answered.

"looks like more than just some friends." He pushed further. Sighing you stood up.

"I guess that's for us to worry about."

Joel looked back at you both.

"we should get the kids, it'll be a long-" his sentence cut off as Ellie screamed and rushed through the door. Sam followed pouncing ok he r and knocking her to the ground. Joel grabbed for his gun and you tried to lunge forward. Henry hit you in your wound sending you to the ground as he grabbed the gun pointing it at Joel. Ellie called for him, her voice broken and afraid.

Without thinking Henry fired, killing his brother. Ellie pushed his body aside and sat up, tears running down her face. Henry, confused turned the gun on himself. There was no time for you to do anything and he dropped beside you, his blood splattered across your face.

"you okay?" Joel asked Ellie. She nodded. He helped you to your feet and without saying a word the three of you moved in unison. You grabbed Sam in your arms and Joel lifted Henry. Ellie ran down the maintenance closet grabbing shovels. A short distance from the motel you worked together to dig two shallow graves. Placing them side by side. Ellie had wandered off at one point, coming back a few minutes later with your bags and weapons. Without a word she walked forward placing the magic pad on the ground and walked away. You read the words "I'm sorry" on it and felt your heart break just a little more.

"You coming?" She called. You and Joel followed her. You shivered. Winter was coming.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Enough For You - Chapter 1

Enough For You Chapter List

"You're not coming back," you say, watching him as he watches the still body of water in front of the two of you. "You're going back to her."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't - Don't do that."

"Don't apologize?"

"You don't mean it - we both know that you don't mean it."

"I do mean it. I am sorry."

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't be doing this. If you were sorry, you would have given me half a chance."

"Things like this happen all the time. Sometimes these things just don't work out. We gave it-"

You cut him off, your eyes now glassy, but you clench your jaw to avoid them spilling in front of him. "Don't say we gave it our best shot. I gave it my best, but can you honestly say the same when I always knew that you'd do this? I knew that I was never ever going to be enough for you. I never stood a chance against a person who doesn't exist."

"She does exist - she does."

"Not the person that you've built up in your head. That person's not real. I would know. I've tried. A force to be reckoned with, but not in a way that overshadows you. Intimidating but not emasculating. Beautiful, but not overstated. Loyal but not clingy. It's never enough for you."

"Please, I don't want to fight. I've made my decision."

You nod stiffly. You're not going to fight for someone who won't return the favor. You won't tear up the last remaining shred of self-respect you have. Even for him. "One day, not tomorrow, probably not even a year from now, but one day - you'll look back and you'll realize that all I ever wanted was to make you happy. And I hope that you find that happiness with her, because on that day, I really hope you look back and don't regret what you're about to do. I won't be here to put the pieces back together. I deserve to be more than a consolation prize. I deserve at least that much."

"You deserve so much more than that."

"But all I ever wanted was to be enough for you."

As he walks away, all the memories of the life you'd built together play back.

6 years.

6 years you'd played second fiddle.

You didn't know it before. But you certainly knew it now.

You didn't even know it this morning when you'd awoken in his warm embrace. All the laughs, tender moments, all the love you'd shared - it was all gone. And worst of all, you weren't even sure if any of it was real.

You could yell after him, beg him, plead and lose every shred of dignity that you had.

You could tell him about the life you'd created together. Maybe he should know - that would get him to stay. You knew it would.

But somewhere deep down, you knew that it would change nothing. He didn't want you, and forcing that on him, well, then you'd really be nothing more than a consolation prize.

This wasn't your fairytale, you weren't the happily ever after that he wanted. And you needed to be more than that this time around. You were going to find someone who dreamed about you the way he dreamed about her. Someone who would glow and gleam when they talked about you. Someone who found you exciting and endearing.

Someone who you would be enough for.

4 Years Later...

After only a few days with Peggy, and with your parting words constantly echoing in his head, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

You were right. The woman that he'd dreamed, hoped, and longed for was not one that existed.

And once that realization struck him, he took another look at the other woman he had. The one he actually loved.

After pulling some strings and some very, very difficult conversations, he was back in the time that he actually belonged in.

He walked up to the last place he'd ever seen you, where you so heartbreakingly parted. And hoped that you'd kept Tony's parting gift. You'd always loved this little cabin on the lake.

Back when you dreamed of a future with Steve, it was the place you envisioned having children and growing old together. It was everything you'd ever wanted and more.

It was strange to him that it was already snowing, when he left fall had barely begun. He smiled at the fond memory of you gushing about how much you loved fall and everything that it brought.

He kept his head down, thinking about all the things he would say to you. How he'd apologize for everything he'd put you through. That you were enough for him. That he was sorry he got caught up in some deluded fantasy, when what he really wanted was you.

Even though he was normally a confident man, it seemed like the frail kid from the 40's was still somewhere inside of him because he was clearly the one in control now.

He took another deep breath and knocked on the door.

It took a few seconds but when he heard the door opening, he held his breath. There was no hiding that he was practically bouncing with anticipation at merely the thought of seeing you. He knew it was only a few days, but still he missed you so much. So, so much.

So he was more than a little confused and shocked when Bucky was the one opening the door.

Bucky choked, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of his friend, "Steve?"

"It's good to see you, Buck."

"What are you doing here?"

Steve's a little taken aback by Bucky's defensive question, Bucky didn't even seem a little bit glad that he was back.

In fact, he seemed more upset and shocked than anything else.

And he was even more confused by the fact that Bucky didn't let him in but instead used his body to block the little crack in the doorway. Looking over his head, Steve couldn't help but wonder where you were.

All he wanted to do was to see you. To beg for your forgiveness. To make his case for another chance. A real chance this time.

"Where is she? I need to talk to her - to - to tell her that she was right about everything."

"And it took you 4 years to figure that out?"

"4 years? No, I was supposed to - wait, what?"

"It's 4 years later," Bucky plainly states, his voice not revealing a single emotion.

"Why are you acting like this? Why won't you let me in?" There's a silence that he doesn't like, answers that he knows he doesn't want to hear. He shoves his best friend back, forcing himself into the house. "Where is she?"

Bucky tries to keep him out, but it's obvious that he failed.

Now, the least he can do is barricade him from the secret he swore he'd always keep. Both of his hands on Steve's chest, he tries to forcibly remove Steve without causing too much of a ruckus. "You need to leave."

But it's too late because the secret he's held as close to his chest as possible is now a giggling mess at having escaped from the room Bucky told him to stay put in.

A troublemaker, just like both his parents. The sandy-blonde haired boy is now tucked behind Bucky's legs, slightly anxious at the strange man that just entered his home.

Bucky turns to the little boy, crouches down to meet him eye-to-eye, lovingly smoothing his messy hair and clothes. "I thought I told you to stay put," he gently scolds.

The little boy stays quiet, refusing to speak in front of the stranger. Instead, he whispers in Bucky's ear, "Who's that?"

Bucky scoops the boy up, still not looking at his former best friend, and rests him on his hip. "This is Steve, Grant. He's, uh, he's an old friend."

"Did he know Mommy?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, his mouth in a tight line. "He did."

Bucky is completely unsure of what he's supposed to do right now. This - this was never supposed to be a scenario.

Steve wasn't supposed to come back.

He made his choice, and until today he was completely positive that there was no way to undo the decisions made on that fateful day.

And like the good man and father he always wanted to be, Bucky knew where his loyalties lied, where his priorities were and would always be.

All of his attention off of Steve, he places Grant in front of the TV. It was going to be more screen time than he liked to give the young boy, but special circumstances deemed it necessary.

He didn't rush as he placed his son's favorite movie on - something that was certain to keep him busy for the next hour or so.

He didn't even really care that he was keeping Steve on edge. Or that Steve was practically shaking with desperate anticipation. He'd barged back in to their lives - the least he could do was wait for him to take care of Grant.

Steve notes the lack of urgency from Bucky. And it stung that though once upon a time they'd been each other's priorities, Bucky took no issue with putting him last now. Steve couldn't really even fault him for that. He deserved at least that much.

When Bucky finally sat down in front of him, Steve steels himself for all the answers that he knew he wouldn't like.

"How old is he?"

"Almost 4 years."

The gears were turning in his head, not wanting to make assumptions, but all the signs were pointing to that very answer. "4 years?"

"Come on, he looks just like you," Bucky says, looking at the little boy who is now enthralled with his movie. "She even gave him your name. She gave you that, not that you'd ever know it."

"Grant," Steve nods, though it was barely enough to soothe the ache that he'd missed so much with his own son.

He ignores the not-so-subtle jab, he knew Bucky, how protective he was over those he cared about. He did his best not to take it to heart.

"Grant Rogers. She always liked the idea of having a nice clean name."

"I have a son?" he whispers in disbelief.

"You've had a son. For four years."

It's impossible to miss the anger and disdain in Bucky's voice. It hurts Steve even more.

"I didn't know - she never told me."

"She knew. She knew when you left," Bucky admits.

"She knew?" Steve angrily whispers. "Where the hell is she? I deserve to hear this from her."

Bucky's metal hand drops on the table in absolute disbelief that Steve even thinks he has a leg to stand on here.

There were consequences to his actions, he made his choice, Bucky could not and would not allow anyone to speak about you with any disrespect in the home you shared. "She doesn't owe you anything! And if you think she does, you should leave." Bucky pauses, trying to recollect himself before his son overheard his angry outburst. His voice drops as he continues to speak, "She said that she knew you would have stayed. You would have stayed and pined away for Peggy for the rest of your lives. She didn't want to do that to you."

"She should have told me," Steve whispers, shocked at Bucky's angry reaction.

He knew you and Bucky had always been close. The three of you understood each other better than anyone else ever could.

But you and Bucky - you'd always had a connection that not even Steve could understand. Perhaps it was that you'd both done dark things that you would carry for the rest of your days.

Maybe it was the twin flame between you and Bucky - one soul in two bodies. But it was clear to Steve that something had changed in the time he'd been gone.

He still couldn't believe that somewhere along the his time traveling adventures a wire had become so detrimentally crossed. 4 years was a long time for two people to get even closer.

"Should we have gone back to the 1940's to tell you that, Steve? Don't put this on her. You made your bed. Now lie in it."

"I just want to see her. Where is she?"

"She's gone."

"When will she be back?"

"No, Steve," Bucky emphasizes. "She's gone."

Horror struck in Steve's heart. You couldn't be gone - that wasn't - he couldn't... There is no cohesive sentence that Steve can string together to properly portray the desperation and ache in his heart.

He'd lost people. He'd lost so much, but never once did he even stop to think that you wouldn't be here.

"How?" he asks, his words hollow.

"It was an accident. A drunk driver," Bucky bitterly chuckles. "A drunk driver took out a freakin' Avenger."

"How long ago?"

"It's only been a couple months. Grant still asks about her. Try explaining that to a toddler."

"I- I don't know what to say. The- The day I left she told me that she hoped I didn't look back on that day and regret the choice I made," he shakes his head. "She said that she wouldn't be there to pick up the pieces for me. That she deserved to be more than a consolation prize."

"She told me that in the beginning. After you left, I mean. I found out she was pregnant and all I wanted was to take care of her. To take care of the last part of you that we both had. And for six months, she kept me away saying, 'we both deserve more than to be somebody else's consolation prize'. But I never saw her like that. It took some time, but I'd like to think that I made her happy. That she loved me as much as I loved her."

"I'm sure she did. And I'm sure you did. It wasn't like you had a tough act to follow."

"Do you want to meet him?"

Steve looks at the boy, Bucky was right, he looked so much like him. But there was the softness and beauty that you possessed in his face. He nods and stands up slowly, as if any sudden movement would change Bucky's mind.

"Hey, bud. Can I introduce you to someone?"

"Okay," Grant says, still only half paying attention. Bucky pauses the movie and gestures over to Steve. "This is Steve. He used to work with Mommy and me. Can you say 'hi'?"

"Hi," he meekly waves, tucking himself behind Bucky's arm. "Do you wanna watch with me?"

Steve holds back all the emotion that floods his entire body, trying to make it through this. So he simply nods and sits next to the son he never knew he had. "I'd like that."

Meanwhile, somewhere in a dark, decrepit cell:

You sit there, curled up in a fetal position, clutching the chainlink fence. Your eyes seemed permanently opened, always on guard and flickering back and forth, yet they so looked glazed over and distant. You'd been trained for this very scenario. Captured. Tortured. Experimented on. And God knows what else. But there was nothing that actually prepared you for it.

There was one thing that mildly helped. Maybe there was some scientific reason or actual logic behind it. Like maybe it helped with your perception of the time that was passing. Or maybe it was simply the song you sang, however bad of a singer you were, that reminded you of your son. How you'd hum it to him as you stroked the back of his head. Or it reminded you of the night you and Bucky danced in front of the fireplace. But it helped. You swore it did.

You hum to yourself, "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away."

Next Chapter

[ssahotstuff]

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

Guys My Age by Hey Violet here! I got the song from @deblou008 who made me an entire playlist of Hotch songs 🥹 this is one of so many WIP I have for this series. I plan to keep it going so long as I keep having ideas lol

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: significant age gap, reader is 25 and Aaron is like 40 but who cares right? Smut, exhibition, alcohol mentions, oral, fem recieving, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it up) exhibitionism, I think that’s it

As always this is a stand-alone and not part of a series 🥰

Reader is a single mom 😏

Having children at a young age isn't exactly ideal, but it did have its perks. You were always the youngest parent at parent/teacher conferences, often mistaken as the older sister of your 6 year old son. The other parents didn't seem to mind because you were always present at activities, involved as much as possible with the classroom. One of the biggest perks was being seen as the "cool, young mom" which meant your son was always hosting sleepovers.

You loved every minute of the bountiful energy, the blanket forts, superhero talk. You'd adjusted well, and on this night in particular, in the living room was a pair of two small boys, piled together on a mound of pillows, watching Captain America. You sat on the couch, watching absentmindedly as they chatted away about anything they could think of.

Only one of the boys belonged to you, your pride and joy: Josiah. He was a bright, beautiful boy with a class full of friends, his closest pal laid out in the floor with him. Josiah and Jack had been friends since preschool, the two of them practically inseparable. Jack's dad worked for the FBI, and on nights when he was working late, or had no clue when he'd be home, Jack could usually be found in your floor, or in the spare room that had been deemed his by Josiah the first night he slept over.

"Captain America is like my dad," Jack said proudly, and you could feel yourself smiling at his words, because he loved his father so much. Jack's mother had tragically passed away, and Josiah's dad had never been in the picture, so the two of them could relate to one another on more than one level.

"And Black Widow is like my mom!" Josiah turned around to give you a toothy grin at the same time the doorbell rang, so you rushed to the door. You weren't expecting to see Aaron on your doorstep, shaking off the rain under the cover of your small porch.

"I know it's late," you ushered him in, Jack immediately rushing to hug his dad, Josiah trailing quickly behind to see what the commotion was about.

"We're watching Captain America!" Jack said happily, the two of them rushing back to their spot on the floor as you led Aaron to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. You lived in the same neighborhood, so when he got in late, it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to stay up long past the kids, talking about work, or what the boys had been up to while he was away. It was a sacred part of the routine; he'd show up, you'd drink coffee, the kids would fall asleep, and he'd come back in the morning. Secretly, you thought he did it just to have someone to spend time with, and you were just as lonely, so you really didn't mind.

"They played school for hours earlier. Did you know Jack can spell 'continent'?"

"It's spring break and they're playing school?" He followed you to the cozy table for two that you had in your kitchen, taking his usual seat while you flipped on the coffee pot.

"They play everything; they have very vivid imaginations," you'd heard them playing FBI agents one day, the two of them interrogating a stuffed rabbit on the couch while you simply stared at them from the kitchen, wondering how the hell they came up with so many creative ideas.

"I think those two will be best friends forever," Aaron nodded towards them, leaned in as close to the tv as you'd let them get, their eyes glued to the screen. In all the years they'd been friends, you'd never heard a single harsh word between the two of them. In fact, when the other would feel down, they'd work tirelessly to cheer the other up. They had a special bond; Aaron often said they acted more like brothers than friends.

You poured the two of you a cup of coffee, knowing exactly how he liked it before you joined him. He had removed his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, and he was rolling up his sleeves, his Rolex shining on his arm.

"They are pretty close. Jessica called about getting Jack for a day or two during break," it wasn't uncommon for Jess to call you if she knew Jack was at your house. The two of you had developed a friendship, often taking the boys on play dates if she had Jack.

"I don't know what I'll do with the house to myself," he chuckled, and you knew he'd end up working, all alone in his office.

"I know what I'm doing," a sly grin spread across your face, because you'd gotten a sitter for the weekend too; your family had asked to keep Josiah for a few days over Spring Break, and you hastily agreed, deciding to go out one night with your friends. You and Aaron shared friends too; JJ and Penelope being two of your closest companions.

"Tell me," your smile must have been contagious, because he was grinning behind his mug as he took a long, satisfied sip.

"It involves tequila," you teased, and his eyebrows shot up in response.

"You're letting Penelope be a bad influence," he teased, peeking behind you to check on the boys. They were sprawled out on their backs, arms in every direction as they slept.

"I'm always the designated driver; they'll be taking a cab this weekend," you always ended up carting them around while they had a blast, singing loudly in your ear, or trying to get you to let them set you up on blind dates, telling you that you needed to loosen up or get laid. They had no filter when they got together, and you couldn't wait to join in on the fun.

"I'm sure you'll have a good time," he took your mug to refill it, and you took a moment to secretly admire his broad frame, his shoulders that seemed to go on forever, his long, strong arms. You loved to watch his hands, meticulous and precise with everything he did, large enough to swallow up any object in them. Everything he held looked tiny.

"Will you promise me that you won't spend your entire weekend working?" He returned your mug, shrugging his shoulders as he sat down.

"I'm sure I can find something to do," you knew it was a lie, but you didn't press further. He got lost in his work, and it took up the majority of his free time.

"I hope so. Where've you been? Fill me in," he looked relieved that you'd changed the subject, giving you what details he could of the case without being too graphic. You liked to listen to him unwind, the stress of the days prior disappearing if he got them off of his chest. You loved the exchange of information, the way he confided in you about everything. There was a mutual trust, a bond created between the two of you from nights like this. He knew he could tell you anything, and you were often who he came to for help.

"Your turn. Tell me what you've been doing," he sat back, listening intently as you explained what you'd been working on. You worked from home, which wasn't exciting, but the kids kept you entertained. You were grateful for it during school breaks, so you didn't need a sitter. You'd been helping the boys with their spelling skills, spelling out words for movie time, and then sounding it out and figuring out the correct way if they had trouble. They'd watch movies regardless, but sometimes you let them stay up a little later on the weekends if they were willing to play along and learn at the same time. You'd all developed a well rounded system for when Jack stayed, so it had become the new norm. You didn't mind, Josiah needed the company, because you weren't planning on having any more kids any time soon.

"Jack loves you, you know. He loves the time that he gets to spend with you." His voice was endearing, he truly appreciated every minute you spent nurturing his child.

"We love having him here. I mean that. He's always welcome here."

"I know you mean it. I don't know what I'd do without you." Your heart was pounding in your chest, your brain a white hot mess.

"Lucky for you, I'll always be around," you winked at him, making him giggle at you from across the table. You loved to hear him laugh, because he was so serious all the time. It was good to hear him sound happy considering what he spent his days doing.

He left shortly after, promising to pick Jack up in the morning. Before he left, he had hugged you goodbye, which was new, so you needed time to process before you had to see him in the morning. You locked the doors and decided to sleep on the couch, turning out the light and going to bed.

You'd been awake for an hour when Aaron arrived to get Jack, his tie and blazer swapped for jeans and a t-shirt. He was incredibly fit, and it was hard for you not to notice given the obvious; he was really fucking sexy. You wondered how anyone at his job got anything done, because surely they were all distracted by their hunk of a boss, in his Gucci ties and sleek suits.

"I brought you coffee," he handed you a to go cup, smiling brightly as he stepped over the threshold. Jack was already packed up and the two of them were waiting in Josiah's room, working on legos.

"You're a lifesaver. They're just down the hall," you called for Jack, but before he could join you, Aaron was telling you that he'd went home and made plans after your talk.

"Morgan and Dave invited me out, so looks like we both get to be irresponsible for a little bit this weekend," you were shocked to hear that he was actually planning to do something other than work.

"Try not to have too much fun," you teased, and Jack rounded the corner, Josiah right behind him. Your aunt was picking up Josiah any minute, and you were taking all of your makeup and outfit choices to Penelope's to spend the day getting dolled up.

Josiah left for the weekend, and you were off, blaring music as you headed to Penelope's. It was barely two pm, so you had time, but she had insisted you and JJ come over early to catch up on what had been happening in your life and to celebrate your weekend of fun. You stepped in the doors of her apartment, toting a suitcase full of makeup and outfit possibilities.

"You came prepared," Penelope chuckled as she ushered you in, your coffee from Aaron in your free hand. She would love the fact that he'd brought you coffee, constantly trying to hook the two of you up. She'd tried more than once to get you to ask him out, but you had no clue how he felt about you romantically.

"Aaron brought me coffee this morning. Stayed late last night," her eyebrows shot up at your vague details, so you quickly explained that nothing happened, but he did make plans to go out for the night.

"I bet we'll run into him," she said excitedly, because she'd been rooting for you to end up with him for years.

"I doubt it. I don't see us frequenting the same places," Aaron's personality didn't suit the karaoke bars and dance clubs the girls usually wound up in.

"True, but I could buzz in Morgan's ear and get them to show up," you decided to let the night continue as planned, and if you happened upon them, so be it, but you didn't want to go out of your way to make it known that you wanted his attention.

"I'm fine, Penny. If we see them, that's fine, but can we just try to enjoy the night without my nerves being a wreck?"

She changed the subject, asking for your opinion on outfits when JJ showed up, her go bag over her arm.

"You're not seriously starting without me," she joked, but you assured her you'd just walked in the door moments before her. Penelope filled her in on the situation with their boss, and JJ shot you a look of approval before encouraging it further by saying he talked about you all the time.

"Don't say that," you groaned, but they'd mentioned several occasions where he'd show off photos you'd sent him of you and the kids, and he always bragged about how lucky he was to have someone like you. You felt yourself blushing uncontrollably as you sifted through outfits, deciding finally on a simple black dress, showing off your curves in all the right places, along with a pair of strappy red heels.

"YES MAMA!" Penelope praised as you tried on your outfit, doing a twirl in the living room for them to see. JJ let out a wolf whistle and your mind was made up. The three of you took turns with the mirror in her bedroom and the outlets in the bathroom to do your hair and makeup, still giving you plenty of time to spare by the time you finished up.

You decided not to drink until you made it to the bar, but you weren't even certain you wanted to stomach the hangover after. They'd never pressure you to drink, but your mind wasn't completely made up on the subject considering the topic of Aaron. If you did run into them, you didn't want to be drunk and embarrass yourself. The two of them took a shot to warm up, and you were off to the bar, a cab arriving at 9pm on the dot. You three climbed in and waited for the arrival of your destination, climbing out like celebrities on the runway. You all looked fierce as you showed your ID to the bouncer and went inside, the music pouring loudly from the speakers.

"To the bar!" JJ cheered, and you followed closely behind, scanning the area for anyone that resembled Aaron with no such luck. You ordered a soda at the bar, clutching it tightly as you looked for a table in the sea of people. You found a booth and staked claims while JJ and Penelope waited for their drinks, checking your phone. Surprisingly enough, you had a message from Aaron waiting for you.

Having a good time?

You spotted JJ and Penelope making their way towards you, so you shot back a quick message, giddy that he'd gotten ahold of you.

Not sure yet. What about you?

His response made you giggle, because you knew he'd regret agreeing to go out as soon as he said yes. He was the type of man who wanted to relax at home, not listen to drunk people shout over each other.

I'm surviving so far. You look great. It's nice to see you out and about.

Your head whipped up faster than your body could register, looking through an abundance of strangers before you spotted him across the dance floor, seated at the table with two other members of the BAU. He glanced over his shoulder to meet your gaze, smiling back at you before you directed your attention to the girls, trying to stay as calm as possible. You typed back beneath the cover of the table.

You're making me blush.

You watched him smirk at his phone, amused by the back and forth. You'd gladly spend the rest of your night doing this; you were more excited to see his face in the crowd than you were to be out in public.

"You spoke it into existence, Penelope," you said over the music, Derek, Rossi and Aaron making their way though the horde of bodies to come join you. Your breath was caught in your throat at the sight of him in his jeans and black polo shirt. JJ and Penelope exchanged a look before looking at you, their eyes wide with amusement.

"Not a word," you warned them, and they shared a laugh before you were all making room in the booth, Aaron squeezed in at your side.

"Look at you," he said lowly, raking his eyes over you as he slid around to sit next to you, the seat shaped like a semi-circle gave you a clear view of everyone at the table, but there was at least a few inches of space between everyone else. Aaron was tucked in at your side, his arm outstretched over the back of the booth.

"Speak for yourself. This is a pleasant change," your hand reached out and brushed across the fabric of his sleeve, his eyes trained on your every move.

"What are you drinking?"

"I'm not, actually. I think I changed my mind." Everyone else was lost in conversation, leaving the two of you to chat quietly, his breath warm on your ear.

"I'm glad I ran into you. I was hoping I'd get to see you this weekend," he admitted, his arm moving from the booth to his lap, meeting your knee beneath the table.

"You know where to find me," you shot back, his boldness taking you off guard as his fingers lightly squeezed at your skin. You noticed he wasn't drinking either, so he must've been driving. Penelope, JJ and Morgan went to the dance floor and Rossi excused himself for a trip to the bar, leaving you alone with Aaron.

"I was thinking maybe I could take you home later. Save you from taking a cab," you could feel the heat pooling between your thighs as you tried to keep your cool, but his hand was kneading the delicate skin just below your dress, making your thoughts filthy and unfiltered.

"My place or yours?" You were no longer shy, just eager to see what the night had in store for the two of you.

"Doesn't matter as long as you'll be there," he said smoothly, tugging your legs apart slightly as his fingers travelled upwards. He scanned the area to make sure all of your friends were occupied before his fingers found your panties, already soaked from being so close to him all night.

"I think your night of irresponsible behavior should start right now," his eyes flickered from your lips to your tits before his fingers traced slow circles through the thin fabric of your panties. You turned your body towards him slightly to give him better access to you as he tugged your panties to the side and his fingers made contact with your clit.

"You're filled with good ideas this evening," you breathed, letting him make your pussy slick, dripping in arousal as he swirled his fingers around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Eyes up here, sweetheart. Look at me," you met his gaze, intense and penetrating as your hand found his thigh, gripping him harshly as your orgasm rattled through you. It had been so long since you'd been touched, and Aaron was exactly what you needed to satiate that hunger. He kissed the corner of your mouth before his lips met yours briefly, nose brushing against yours as he pulled away.

"We're leaving. I'll tell JJ and Penelope that I'm taking you home," he tugged you out of the booth and handed you his keys, so you headed in the direction of the parking lot while he dealt with your friends. You sent JJ a quick text apologizing but she was more than encouraging of you and Aaron, urging you to do what made you happy. You were already in the passengers seat when he joined you, wasting zero time in pulling you to meet his lips. His mouth found yours with urgency as he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth before his tongue found it's home inside of your mouth, his hands blindly groping you through your dress.

"Let's get you home," he broke away from the kiss, his hand lingering on your thigh as he drove you back to his place. He parked and came around to open your door before his hands were on you again, squeezing your ass as he followed you to the door. Instead of leading you inside, your back met the front door, his lips trailing against your neck. By the time you made it inside, your panties were halfway down your thighs, with Aaron working swiftly to remove them the rest of the way.

"The heels stay on," he demanded, causing a giggle from you in response. You were in his foyer, your panties around your ankles as you stepped out of them. Aaron was slinking to his knees, lifting your dress up past your hips and wrapping his arms around the small of your back as he dove headfirst into your aching center, his tongue expertly latching around your clit in an instant. You flattened against the wall, your hands in his hair as he devoured you, kissing and lapping at your pussy like he'd never had anyone like you in his life. You could only lean your head against the wall and try to keep your legs from giving out beneath you.

"Been thinking about this for years," he murmured against your skin, making you flush all over. You could feel the heat spread across your body, the familiar pressure growing in the pit of your stomach as you came on his tongue, Aaron praising you the entire time.

"One more and we'll move to the bed," he promised, his hand snaking between your legs so his fingers could tease your slick, swollen folds before he slipping his fingers inside of you.

"Fuck me with your fingers," you pleaded, earning an animalistic grunt out of him in return as he pumped his fingers slowly, your arousal coating his fingers. His pace quickened as he sucked on your bundle of nerves, making your eyes flutter shut. You were on cloud nine, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks as your legs shook beneath you. His arms hooked under you as he stood up, so he could pick you up and carry you to the bedroom. His mouth never left yours as he navigated the two of you down the hall to his room.

"No going back after this," he warned, but you were ready for whatever he had to offer; you'd hoped it would happen sooner or later but you had no clue when. You didn't want to go back, there was nothing in the world that would ever make you regret giving yourself to him.

"It's always been you," truthfully, you'd never accepted a single date from anyone else because you didn't want just anyones attention. You wanted Aaron's. Sure, his job had its disadvantages, but it wasn't anything you weren't already used to dealing with. You couldn't imagine it being anyone else that you settled down with; his version of settling anyway. He gently sat you down, unzipping your dress in the back so he could slip it off of you. His eyes scanned every inch of you before he reached behind you to remove your bra, a satisfied groan leaving his lips at the sight of you. His lips were all over you, starting on your neck, inching slowly towards your chest as he hovered above you. He looked as if he'd been waiting his entire life to have you as he lowered himself between your legs, sucking hickies onto your thighs as he spread your legs apart.

He wasn't interesting in teasing, his focus was on making sure you never wanted another person sexually. His tongue flicked lightly at your clit, your moans bouncing off the walls only urged him on. He was mesmerized by the way your back arched off the bed, the way your hand was rooted in his hair. You'd never experienced anything quite like him; the lines between his actions being for your pleasure or simply for his own enjoyment were beginning to blur. His eyes, half lidded and glued to your center belonged to a man that had completely succumbed to you.

His fingers made their way to your entrance, coating his fingers with your arousal before he slipped them into you, curling them lightly, pumping them at an agonizingly slow place. It was driving you over the edge quickly as you panted for more, his lips curling into a grin as he satisfied a hunger you didn’t even know you had. When you finally let go, it rattled you from head to toe. You watched him position himself in front of you on his knees before he pulled down his boxers, letting his cock spring free.

“Please tell me you’re on birth control,” his dick was already teasing your entrance, soaked in arousal as he waited for your answer.

“I am. Will you please fuck me?” His hands gripped your hips harshly as he brought your body forward, his dick already throbbing as he eased into you. He let out a shaky breath, sitting up slightly to get a better angle. He let out a moan as he rotated his hips, slamming into you repeatedly until you were coming undone, your head on his pillow as he adjusted your legs, bringing them up to rest flat against his chest so he could slide in and out of you with ease.

“Made just for me,” he hissed, his arms flexed deliciously as he hugged your legs against him, your body contorted expertly so he could fuck you properly. You’d never been fucked like this; Aaron was a selfless lover and you knew you’d never be satisfied by hands that weren’t his ever again. You could feel the tension that had been building for years starting to disappear, and the truth began to take its place: you belonged to him. There was no one else you wanted to experience the craziness with; you knew his job was hard, but you were willing to wait on him.

“Will you cum inside of me?” You couldn’t believe you were asking him, but you knew he was getting close, and feeling him finish inside of you was exactly what you needed, you craved it, being marked as his. He nodded before he leaned down to kiss you, sweat beginning to form on his brow. His hips continued to slam into you more urgently, his tongue tangled with yours. He buried himself inside of you, sputtering thick ribbons of cum into you with a shout of your name. All you could do was stare back at him and try to catch your breath.

“Have you been waiting on this as long as I have?” His lips were finding yours before you could answer him. His hand gently cupped your face as he gazed down at you, your noses brushing slightly.

“Only a couple of years,” you joked back as he slid out of you with a shudder, pulling up his boxers so he could find a towel to wipe you down with. You watched him clean you up, wondering how you got so lucky to have someone like him around. You tried to sit up, but your body was too heavy. You ended up pulling the blanket over your body to wait for him. He gave you a t-shirt to slip on before he climbed in the bed with you, cuddling in at your side.

“It was inevitable, right? It was for me anyway,” you could hear the tiredness in his voice as he got comfortable, his chest pressed against your back as you melted into his warmth.

“It was bound to happen. All just a matter of when,” you yawned, and he tossed his arm over you, pulling you in closer. You felt more peace in that moment than you had in the last couple of years, no longer wondering what it would be like to have his love. You’d had it all along.

[scotts-takes]

Best of Ensemble Stars 2022

Number 1 - Seishun Emergency - Knights x Ryuseitai

This is something I had to admit to myself at some point- despite loving Ryuseitai, I have never actually loved any of their songs. Ryusei Hanabi was the closest I had come for a number of years, and even then that would have been a middle-of-the-road song for any other unit in the game. Nekketsu Ryusei Ninpouchou was fun, but I'm bias because I love Shinobu almost as much as life itself, so it's hard for me to tell if I actually like that song.

As the Fusion series of songs was coming to a close, it seemed obvious that we were going to get a Ryuseitai x 2wink or Crazy:B fusion, because that would have made the most sense. The game had never done 10 idols on screen, after all! But then the announcement came, and we got the big 10 man collab, and an update to the game that raised the minimum specs required to play the game due to changes they had made to accommodate it. With the target audience of Enstars being pre-teen and teenage girls, I was a little surprised by this- Enstars is a pretty meaty app requirement-wise, and teens tend to play on whatever they have- be it a handed-down older phone, a 4 year old tablet with a cracked screen, etc. I am sure there are people who had to quit the game over this, and it sucks, but that is the price we pay for having a cutting edge game even all these years post release....

When I first heard the song, I immediately watched it a second time, to make sure I had seen and heard everything right. I was like "I have HEARD this song before". And maybe 10 minutes later, it finally hit me- it sounded exactly like the Yugioh GX theme song!

And it wasn't just the Yugioh GX theme song, it sounded like a Disney Channel song from the late 2000s/early 2010s, like you would hear this and expect Zach and Cody to step out from behind the curtain.

In the Hamutaro song post, I made mention that "Ryuseitai is for the children", and it struck me by how this style of song fit. While Hamutaro was a song that you might have heard as a 6 year old, This was a song that evoked the shows you were watching as a pre-teen/teenager if you are around 25-32 years old now, which is, quite simply, something that we really don't get anymore. It was ultra nostalgic, and the theme of the song- which is about middle/high school romance- probably fits the same things you were thinking about when you were watching these show

This is a wildly high energy song- the literal first seconds of both the in-game version and the full version of the song is 10 people fist pumping and screaming about taking chances and fighting! When you watch the MV, you are struck by how...uncordinated the dancing is between the 10 characters. They sort of all have their shit down for the chorus, but everything in between just feels like they are improvising and they just found out that day they would be preforming together and hadn't rehearsed- it adds to the theme of a "youthful emergency"- you didn't have time to practice, you just gotta go out and get it done!

There is a point towards the end of the song where it seems like no one on stage has any idea what they are supposed to be doing! Everyone is just doing their own thing, before they get it together for the synchronized dancing at the end. To a degree, I could have excused a simple video like the year one songs- after all, this was the first time they had to have 10 characters going at once, they weren't going to be able to do a Finder Girl or Believe 4 Leaves with this. But even though its a very simple concept, there is so much personality and fun injected into this video. Just because you aren't telling a multi-step story with multiple settings doesn't mean you aren't telling a story- and Seishun Emergency manages to get across all 10 characters personalities in it's 2 minute runtime.

And in case it didn't come across earlier, this song absolutely BANGS. The high energy and freneticism combined with 10 voices focused on what is a truly meaningless topic to an adult- High School romance- becomes the first time that Ryuseitai actually has an awesome song to their names. These are hero's of justice, they are for the children- but as Chiaki has said before, he really does just want a cute girlfriend to make him lunches everyday. And Knights fits in as the prototypical "top of the class that all the girls want"- showing that they aren't immune to stupid teenage immaturity and hormones. You could have made a Knights x Ryuseitai song about a group of heroic rangers and a group of valient knights coming together to vanquish some great evil, but no- instead, we are just witnessing them all be stupid teenagers instead.

For being a song that was released so early in the year, it is a true testiment that at the end of it, there was zero question about what number 1 on this list was going to be. A lot of the other songs I chose, I had to think about where to put them- but this was instantly my favorite song when I heard it, and nothing has changed since then to make me re-consider. I'm just so happy that as a fan of characters like Shinobu and Tetora, I no longer have to tell people "I, uh, like the characters but not the music" when discussing Enstars with them- I can happily point to this song and just go "watch THIS".

While I have moved to Engstars as my primary game since it's launch, I still keep up (and had to do multiple events...) with JP, so my hope is that 2023 will continue to bring us new and exciting songs!

[termytheantisocialbutterfly]

Who is little miss nobody? I ask hoping you'll enjoy the opportunity to infodump

I actually would love the opportunity to infodump! I know I don't talk about it on here a lot, but I really do find forensic science and true crime really interesting!

Little Miss Nobody was the name given to a Jane Doe found in the desert in Arizona by a Las Vegas schoolteacher on July 31st in 1960. She had been found partially buried and burned and, though an official cause of death couldn't be determined due to the state of her body, her death was ruled as a homicide. At the time, officials believed her to be between the ages of 5 and 7, which as it turns out was incorrect and actually caused her true identity to be ruled out for many years because she was actually 4 at the time that she died. Her real name was Sharon Lee Gallegos and she had been kidnapped from the alley by her grandmother's house only 10 days before the discovery of her remains. It's believed that she'd been killed a week or two before her body was discovered, which means she was likely only with her killers for about as long as it took to drive the 500 miles from where she'd been abducted to where her body would be found.

She was kidnapped by a couple driving a dirty green car while playing with a group of children outside her grandmother's house and it's reported that this couple was likely stalking her for several days prior to her kidnapping. A heavy-set blond woman and a thinner man were reportedly seen with a couple of children outside Sharon's church the weekend before she was kidnapped. A neighbor reported that the same woman came and knocked on her door to ask about the Gallegos family and, particularly, about Sharon and Sharon's mother. The same woman was seen again parked outside Sharon's grandmother's house the day of the kidnapping and Sharon reportedly was afraid to pass the car on her own when she went to go to the store with another child. She had to be picked up and carried past the car. It's also believed this same woman, this same car, and the thinner man remained in the alleyway for a while while the children played before Sharon was finally approached.

The heavyset woman asked Sharon to get in the car with offers of new clothes and candy but Sharon refused so the woman grabbed her arm and dragged her into the car before taking off. In the brief time that she and her partner had Sharon, it's believed they dyed her hair (from blonde/light brown to an auburn color) and painted her nails red. She was also found wearing different clothes and a pair of adult sized sandals which had been cut to fit her. Some of these behaviors may imply they intended to keep her for some time, but something changed. It's also possible that they had never intended to keep her and simply wanted to make her as hard to identify as possible by dying her hair before torching her body. A bloody pocket knife was found near the crime scene but they could never determine if this was related. They also found two sites near where her body was found which appeared to be prior attempts to dig a grave for Sharon.

They finally managed to identify her (having just released the news today) due to all of the strides we've been making in DNA technology the last several years. They actually exhumed her in 2015 to pull DNA, but they weren't able to get any results with the technology at the time so it was placed in several DNA indexes and then stored for later analysis. They also had another medical examiner look at the body and this examiner stated that the child could have been as young as 2 or as old as 9 but was mostly likely between the ages of 3 and 6. Finally, and most recently, they had a genetic genealogy analysis done by Othram Inc. in Texas and that is how she was ultimately identified.

Of course, by now it's probably too late to get justice for Sharon. The people who took her were thought to be in their 30s by witnesses and that was 60 years ago, so more than likely they lived out their days free to do whatever they wanted without ever facing consequences for what happened to Sharon. Given their relative confidence in carrying out the crime, I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done this before and/or continued to do it after Sharon. Our best hope is that they got caught for someone else and were just never tied to Sharon because, for all intents and purposes, there was no solid physical evidence. A couple footprints, the clothes she was wearing, a knife which may or may not have had anything to do with the crime, and reports that they may have been sitting outside of her church with two children and may have knocked on her neighbor's door asking questions about her family. Even if there was enough to find whoever did this, they're likely dead already.

Unfortunately, that's all we really know about Sharon, there isn't a lot of information about what she was like in life available online. We know she enjoyed playing with her cousins and the other children living near her grandmother's house. Her nephew states family describes her as having been "a very fiesty, happy go lucky little girl". He says that her disappearance changed the family and now they consider themselves overprotective of their children. It's also unclear what this means for her gravesite as, obviously, it's approximately 500 miles from her family and her parents who died without ever knowing what had happened to her. I'm hoping that, at the very least, she'll finally get a gravestone with her real name on it because 60 yrs as "Little Miss Nobody" is really far too long.

[oskarwing]

what kinds of things do you think the Hargreeves kids did in their spare time when they weren't training?

!!! This is a great ask thank you!

So. It obviously depends on age, if they did thinks together if "spare time" is only regarding the "official time" Reginald gave them off or not etc.

So This answer might get long wait!

Okay so if they were little like between 3 and 6 years old (I'm not counting when they were actual babies because that would be a little boring maybe):

Probably a lot of playing together/playing with available adults (the older they'd get the more independent their games would get)

There was like a few building blocks Vanya threw over with a nanny in the oatmeal scene so that's an activity I'd imagine they'd get up to together. Maybe some puzzling, some pairs games first with help of one or two of the nannies at first maybe Grace later or playing it only with whichever sibling wants to join (or maybe Pogo I can see them begging Pogo to join them and "Wooh"-ing when he does - and he always does of course). Then probably games like catch or hide and seek that could very well also be part of their training at that age. (It's really hard to tell what sort of toys Reggie would allow them but the building blocks make me think they had at least some! (The building blocks don't leave me I hope Vanya helped the owner(s) of that awesome tower build it back up. Like who cares about the nanny, your siblings put a lot of time into this Vanya!)

And some make-belief games which would I think for them be a lot different than the ones of kids that didn't grow up like them. Like maybe they try to play 'Pogo' and walk like him or they played classroom with Five at the black board talking like Reginald or if they had baby dolls they'd play nannies.

I don't think there would be much very big rule breaks and a lot of them more accidental(ish) (you could argue Vanya killing nannies is a sorta big rule break but I mean free time sneaking wise) because Reggie was super intimidating and also because they were being observed 24/7 and I think at these ages even the future trouble makers were probably a lot more hungry for love and scared breaking rules might take any positivity from Reginald away from them.

Now at 7 to 10 years old I think they probably got a little more bold and some of them already realized that they wouldn't get love from their father and started to search for just attention from their caregivers.

So in their actual free time they might have still played together though would have probably gone over to single play activities more sometimes and probably had a lot of their interests developing. Like Ben was probably reading a lot, Luther was starting to get really into space (personally I think his love for it started through the Cassini-Huygens mission!) and so on. 

I can also see that their play pretend together would be a lot more oriented in what they got from real life. Like they might have seen a movie or read a book in which something happened which they start to emulate rather than what they see around them. Luther might start to want to play astronaut a lot maybe even try to build a rocket out of cartons or they’d play pirates or princess and princes and knights (I think they would take a lot from whatever books they could read) 

They might also have started to play more in unused rooms away from the cameras and being monitored? 

I don’t think there would be any sneaking out yet but a lot of... like secret games of “I spy with my little eye” or telephone in the classroom during training or during dinners that were extra hard because forbidden.

Which brings us to 11 to 14 years old and I think that’s where the real sneaky shit started! 

Of course the younger they are the more typical childish games they’d still play but I think they started to sneak out to Griddy’s around 11ish. This was also probably the time Allison and Luther build their little house on the attic and the other children probably also made more private hideouts for one or two or maybe three. They would probably try to do things away from Reginald’s control for the first time. More sneaking around more things outside of the house. Like I said a lot of Griddy visits, maybe even sneaking out to the movies... just fun stuff they didn’t do before. 

Klaus would probably also start developing his attictions at some point around the later half of that time and I think he’d be the first one to get outsiders as friends with some of the others following. 

I think though after Five vanished that they started to drift apart activity wise. That they had less outings together and more dreams of how to escape of their own. I do think they still tried because they loved each other but. Things got harder at that point. 

And 15 to 18 years old is probably where their activities got more alone and more oriented away from the household. All but Luther were probably making plans at that point as to how they would get away from their home. And probably started to make plans for change. The others would have been a painful reminder of their childhood hell at that point especially after Ben’s death. Things would have gotten harder until everyone was moved out and went their own ways. Their activities would either be focused on finding ways out, hanging out with other people or focusing on their own dreams and hobbies depending on the sibling a little. 

Sorry to get so sad at the end. And sorry this took so long. 

And I’m not sure if this is what you wanted anon but this is what I have. Uh... yeah. 

[butterfliesinthenightsky]

hi sweetheart !! may i please req an ateez and bts personality ship ?? my description was SUPER long (I GOT CARRIED AWAY </3) so you can cut my request at the personality part when posting my ship! tysm in advance <3

I’m an ‘03 liner that’s 5’9.5 (basically 5’10) with dark skin, jet black hair (currently in long twists rn!!), and i’m on the curvier side (esp hips and my thighs) !! some of my favorite features are my plump lips (and i have a beauty mark near the inside of my bottom lip!), my long legs (they’re 40.5 inches long and look so good in dresses and skirts <33), my kempt and pretty fingernails, and my eyelashes !!! i’m a virgo (and surprisingly i get along with all the signs, i cant think of a sole zodiac sign i DONT mix well with but i love cancers and virgos <33) ! i’m also an ambivert all the way! i often come off as cold/shy/quiet when meeting new people (one of my closest friends avoided me for a month before meeting me because i looked so intimidating LMAO), but once you get close to me i turn into a goofy (heavy on the goofy im never not laughing) bundle of warmth and love: i will never stop texting them the <3 emoji every morning or buying my friends/s/o their favorite starbucks order when they need a little cheer-me-up. also, lots of people say i’m mature and carry myself well, but around my friends i’m one of the most goofiest people ever (probably bc my face will literally be 😐 one sec and then 🥰 the next second when someone makes me laugh <3)

tysm in advance!!! Have an amazing day/afternoon/evening!

@anpanseok DARLING! I hope you love your ship <3 I'm actually really proud of this one, you'll have to let me know what you think! <3

In ATEEZ, I ship you with one and only demon San!

(I thought you'd like that gif ;) )

Okay, when you were describing all of the things that you would want in the relationship, I thought of San due to how clingy and affectionate he is with the other members of ATEEZ. He is a Cancer, which is good because that is one of the star signs that are compatible with yours. I don't believe that the age difference of four years would be that much of an issue, especially since San acts younger than he is most of the time anyway. I feel like most men are intimidated when their female significant other is tall themselves, but he is tall himself and I feel like the fact that you are taller is kind of one of his favorite things about you? One of his other favorite things about you are your curves, he always puts his hand on your thighs during movie night at the boys' dorm or in the back pocket of your jeans when you two are walking into KQ Entertainment together. When you wear dresses when all of you go out to fancy dinners together, he has to hold himself back because he ADORES you when you wear dresses! You said you're am ambivert, I feel like he relates to that in some form of way, like I feel like there are certain situations where he feels a bit more introverted about. Sometimes Hongjoong has to scold him because he texts you so much, but he can't stay mad at you when you pop into the building with their favorite Starbucks drinks and hand-made lunch boxes for them. Just as you always support his creative endeavors, he always returns it for you tenfold and when you are talking about issues you care deeply about, he gives you his full attention and stares at you lovingly. Not just San, but all of the boys, come to you whenever they are dealing with stress and they just want someone to talk to because you are so amazing at giving advice and supporting them. There was a time when a sasaeng approached you, San, Wooyoung and Jongho when you were doing some late night grocery shopping when another ATINY stopped her, causing an argument and nasty words to be exchanged. Let's just say, you shut that sasaeng down REAL quick when you heard some of the things she said. One day you woke up and found a present that San made for you, a mixtape of all of your favorite songs from all your favorite genres of music, along with a little keychain that had tokens of all of the states you had visited. He wholeheartedly loves you and he makes every effort to support all of your dreams. When he has days off from work, the two of you make a blanket fort in your living room and watch old episodes of Forensic Files and Law & Order: SVU, whilst surrounded by fluffy blankets and a couple of his favorite plushies. His life an idol doesn't afford him much down time, unfortunately, but he always makes time for you and you always have the craziest adventures with not only each other, but all of the other boys as well. Squishy San will want all of the cuddles, have you SEEN how affectionate he is with the other members?! Also, him in all black outfits.... YES, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. One day he was visiting your apartment and he surprised you with matching beaded pearl bracelets and he never takes it off, not even for performances. The boys don't really think nothing of walking into the bathroom to brush their teeth whilst one of the others is showering, that just comes with their busy schedules and their dorm life. Let's just say this: Mingi wasn't able to look you in the eyes for two weeks because he did just that, not realize that you had snuck in and stayed the night, and were currently going to the bathroom whilst San was in the shower. Your camera roll is not only filled with silly pictures of San that you've captured, but of the most magazine worthy, model pictures you have ever been lucky enough to take. He accepts you for all of your flaws, and helps you to try to work on them, however that may be and you do the same for him.

In summary: You both are simps for each other and I AM HERE FOR IT.

In BTS, I ship you with Namjoon!

Another tall boy for you, I got you! You both are Virgos, but I looked it up worried that two Virgos would clash, and it said that they would be very intuitive with each other and would understand each other! The age gap is quite large, I don't know how okay you are with that? I know everyone has different preferences. He approached you first when he saw you at the mom & pop coffee shop/cafe around the corner from your apartment, and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Another man who I don't think would be bothered by your curves (men can be shallow dicks), I think that is his favorite thing (same as San) about you. Not even in a sexual way, I feel like his hands would always end up on your butt without him even noticing. Most of the time, one of the other boys will point it out when all of you are hanging out together, and he will be proud that he has a significant other like you, but he almost might become a shy mess about it I feel like. I feel like he can get jealous, just because you are closest to Jungkook in the group and you often pull pranks on the other members together. There is never a shortage of laughs when all of you are together, pure crackhead energy if I've ever seen it, just non stop jokes and banter between all of you. You were able to get time off from work and were actually able to join them (their managers were surprisingly chill about you tagging along? CONFUSION?) on their tour around Europe and you had so many memories. You actually brought along a Polaroid camera that you found in a little store one day when the two of you were shopping, and you ended up having to buy an extra suitcase on the trip because you took LITERAL hundreds of pictures of all of your adventures and the tour shenanigans. He has childish tendencies, I feel like he would love to play Roblox with you? I feel like he would take a very mathematical approach to building things, that's just the vibe I get from him. He often stares at you when you're doing your makeup in the morning, he finds it fascinating and he even asked you to do his makeup for some of his shows. His makeup artists weren't angry, luckily, all of their staffs absolutely adore you two together. He is all up for adventures, I feel like he would chicken out at the idea of skydiving, though lol. You keep stealing his sweaters, which he low-key highkey is SO happy about because he loves the way that you look in them. The size difference is only three or four inches (I've seen people say he's 6 feet, but then others say he's 6 foot 2, WHICH IS IT?!), so it's pretty easy to sneak kisses from him whenever you want them when you're together. If he sees you struggling to stay awake whilst studying, he'll softly close your book and drag you over to your bed for a couple hours so you can take a quick nap to regain the energy. I don't really know his temperament that well, he has to be rather even-tempered to deal with those hooligans he calls the rest of BTS, so I feel like you wouldn't have that many fights. You both are always striving to help each other to be the best versions of each other you can be. You joined the boys on vacation at a lake house and one night you were having dinner and he blushed after you said something cheeky to him, causing you to say to him, "You look like a cute tomato when you blush, my cutie pie." in front of the other members. Needless to say, he turned even more red and the boys teased him mercilessly for the rest of the night. Don't know how the cooking would go (this boy is a DISASTER in the kitchen), but you would have fun learning new dishes. He would brag about getting a dish right, and you quickly praise him but also say, " and that's why you a big ass head.", causing him to die laughing. He is the very definition of a hard worker, and I feel like he would love being praised and doing the same for his significant other, so I'm glad that you said that you liked the words of affirmation love language, because GET READY. He's definitely been buffing up (I SCREAM WHENEVER I SEE PICTURES OF HIM NOWADAYS), so

his hugs would always be the best things, so warm and comforting. Don't know how you feel about children? We've all seen that VLive where this idiot literally bought baby shoes because he thought they were cute, so I think he would definitely want children down the road in your relationship if you were both comfortable with it. Best father and husband award goes to him.

In conclusion: SIMP. SIMP. SIMP. SIMP. SIMPPPPPPPPPPPP.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord : Jak-Knife

JK belongs to / is written by / designed by @godkingsanointed​

“That Bandit’s a ghostwalker, my God-King. You don’t want ‘em here, trust me. Sometimes dead clans leave corpses behind that aren’t straight in the head enough to know that’s what they are... Crawl across the plains looking for somewhere else to belong, looking for a new family clan ‘cause all that’s left of theirs are Rakk picked bones. Seen plenty over the years, and they trail bad luck behind ‘em like a disease. That one’s marked like a Hellion, those got slag-burned into the ground by Atlas back in Old Haven. Your majesties weren’t here when that happened, but we were, and I remember. Leave them to me, the scout teams always need fresh meat for replacements.

They won’t stay alive long enough to be a concern.”

- Mouthpiece

Whether death follows JK or they sprint after it in pursuit is something they’ve never really been sure of. It could be either - some great predator snapping at their heels while they grew up in a Bandit clan that wasn’t kind to the small and gentle, or a force they are drawn to effortlessly like the migratory animals that follow Pandora’s monsoon seasons.

Could be either.

Could be both.

Same outcome they figure, so why would it matter.

They'd been a kid when it happened, well, a kid to anyone not a Bandit. In that life 16 years old is more than enough to run with a raid party, adult enough to work yourself to the bone, to show you can earn your keep when your brother is "useless" and you've got to be worth 2 bellies of food or watch as one of you goes hungry. Jak-Knife and Gutpunch, one a runt squinting up from under a stolen warrior's mask crafted for someone twice their size, the other a gentle giant born into a life that no aspect of their soul suited. They'd protected him, them with their little body and dull pocketknife versus the sometimes cruelty of a clan who's survival was based around only the fittest, only the strong staying part of it.

Not evil, just living as was needed. Pandora is harsh, there is no room for softness if you want to stay alive on her rocky flats, that's just the way things are. Nature isn't cruel, it simply is.

They were 16 when the Lance came.

16 years they'd lasted in the Hellions, till the day the gates of Old Haven had been opened for the Crimson Lance's money carriers. They'd done their job, they'd cleared the town at the request of the white Siren, been promised a home for the clan, a place to belong, and in the end, their payment came in bullets sprayed from Atlas gun barrels.

By the time JK had woken up and tried to heave Gutpunch's corpse off their back from where he'd shielded them, it had been two days. Groggy and confused, they'd panicked, desperately trying to scrabble out from under his bulk as the remaining Lance stopped piling bodies to burn and ran towards the sound of gunfire outside the gates.

Vault Hunters. Worse than the lance.

They couldn't take him with them, he couldn't move now, but they couldn't leave him like this, not a brother. Not when he was all they had who'd understood when they'd try and explain why their meat was wrong, how the flesh didn't sit right, when he was who would help them tighten rags around their chest and listen as they ground their overly developed canines and growled to the stars at night when it got too heavy to bear. They couldn't leave him behind after a life together, so they took his mask. Scrabbled at the bindings and peeled the effigy from what was left of his head. They realised as it separated from flesh that it had been all that was holding the remnants of skull together... but this was his face. The meat under it was Gutpunch, but the mask... they'd wear it now. He'd still be with them.

Jak-Knife had ran from the massacre of Old Haven on shaky legs, ducking as bullets whistled through the air around them as Crimson Lance and Vault Hunters traded fire in panicked waves. No hits, not directly, but a spray of Slag from a barrel ruptured by a narrow miss had sliced across their right, thick and acrid in the air as it burned through skin and into muscle. There had been no time to feel the pain, no time to stop, JK had run till their feet bled and the weight of Pandora's inky night blanketed them in exhaustion they couldn't fight any longer.

They'd started to stumble forward once they stirred in the morning. Like Mouthpiece said, a ghostwalker. No clan, no brother, no belonging. They walked and didn't stop for a long time.

Walked to New Haven, to the walls outside the town and a woman with her own terribly scarred face masking a heart softer than others would guess. Not a home there, not really, but allowed stay. A kid is a kid, even when wearing the blood-streaked mask of a Bandit. She couldn't turn them away.

They were 18 when Hyperion came.

Ran again amidst the screams to do so, ran into the wastes of Pandora and a world that made more sense to them than the town being torn apart behind them. Missed her though, Pierce. She'd been kind. A lot of those people had been kind, and now they were dead. Hyperion, Atlas, same thing. Just monsters lead by monsters.

They'd walked to the Slabs, to a jovial King who mocked their size with a tone that both bristled their muscle and left them feeling... welcome. Not a home there either, not really, but there had been jobs to run and food to earn. They'd been allowed stay, and so they did. Stil a Hellion though, still Slag-burned and covered in their clan's flame emblems and splashes of neon across their gear.... still wearing Gutpunch's blood coated mask.

The Slab king had heaved himself into their cramped sleeping quarters one night and whispered that there was a funeral for her soon, Pierce. They could go if they wanted, he'd whispered from under that massive helm. Told them with a gentleness they'd never heard before that he understood loss, having things you loved taken away from you for no reason bar cruelty. That he remembered Old Haven and wished he didn't. That they should go. They'd be welcome there.

So JK had walked again, out of Thousand Cut's Slab fortress and to a somber funeral in the icy fields of Three horns that was filled with Crimson Raiders - a mix of Vault Hunters and ex Lance, and stood in memorial amidst people that made the blood under their skin burn, all to show the respect she'd earned to a woman who'd treated them like a human.

A merc now they figured, easier than being a wanderer and Sanctuary needed mercs. Found themselves in the bar some nights, wary eyes glaring from mismatched lenses as they sat silently at corner tables while watching the rest of the loud patrons, back against a wall and a clear exit always planned.

She'd noticed. She liked big 'n mysterious. Liked how her flirtations rolled off them and were replied to with genuine questions about her. Quiet, gentle-voiced comments about the drinks, how well she played her marks, how clever that gunbelt around her thigh was positioned for quick access if she needed to control a situation with more than just her looks.

Moxx liked this one, and a friendship slowly bloomed into something beautiful.

It had been her who had put their name forward when the leaders of the Raiders had become concerned over the darkness slowly seeping across Pandora's horizon, of the bizarre war cries of fanatics leading raids on smaller Bandit camps and shanty towns...

The "Children of the Vault" was a name being passed through hushed whispers in slums and rot-dives, and Lilith had rolled "Calypso" across her tongue enough times when reading scout reports to know the taste it was leaving behind wasn't anything good. They wanted an in, and what better spy to infiltrate a Bandit cult than a Bandit. Someone who understood clan hierarchy, who could report back in words she could understand from a viewpoint she could never see.

JK had been... wary. To say the least. The Raiders weren't friends, they'd filled their ranks with ex Crimson Lance like they hadn't committed atrocities, they mowed down Pandora's natives like mad Skags who needed extermination, and Krieg...

They all knew of Krieg. Everyone had seen how he'd been really treated. JK certainly had, but they also knew Krieg had been one foot into the great hunger, that he'd been so close to the flood that he'd spoken in half Psycho-cant and half Bandit, and tore at his skin to sate the itch of the song that the mad ones screamed about. That the raiders would let him burn alive in a fury if it meant a successful mission, and they couldn't help but wonder how respected he'd really been. Some kind of mix between respect and pity they figured, mocked behind his back as "Just another Psycho", someone who got the job done even if he limped back covered in blood and bullet holes, but was whispered about as needing to be watched.

He had been called a Raider, and yet - masks like his and JKs covered the command room's wall like trophies. Murderers of their clans walked Sanctuaries halls and narrowed untrusting eyes even at Krieg's hulking silhouette as he passed. It wasn't right, and JK struggled to feel as welcome as the others insisted they were now that they had a use.

But they'd taken the job, because Moxxi said they should and Moxxi was clever, Moxxi cared about them and wanted to see them be happy, so they'd agreed. She had whispered in an accent they’d learned from long nights in her company was for real things and not her act, that this would help people, that the COV was worrying her more than she was concerned about getting intel to Lilith, and they'd nodded in agreement.

Bandits don't congregate, Bandits don't merge clans under one banner... they wanted to know what this beast clawing into Pandora's soil was capable of. They'd heard the rumours like everyone else, twin Sirens apparently. Bullshit, everyone knew Sirens were women and there were only 6. Jack had hammered that information through Bandit clans and across Pandora's E-Com network clear enough. These were obviously frauds using trickery to control those eager to believe, wouldn't be the first time a Siren cult had used Bandit clans as a personal army, and JK had felt roiling disgust at the realisation what they were agreeing to do for Lilith? Just another shade of the exact same thing.

Funny, wasn't it. Very funny.

So they'd walked out of Sanctuary and towards the hub of the birthing COV.

They'd been 20 when they had first seen a real God.

The Holy City didn't exist yet, just a pile of rickety buildings thrown up by worshippers that surrounded an old Dahl fortress bleaching slowly in Pandora's sun. They called it "The Cathedral", but it looked like the crumbling bones of some great dead thing jutting from the red sands like a cracked skull. Maybe those were the same thing, JK had thought. A cathedral, and a beast of the flood. Both seemed like something that should be worshipped to them. They liked this place.

Neon paint and rusty metal spines were everywhere among the shantytown, raucous laughter cut through the clang of metal, and the air itself was heavy with an unmistakable stink of unwashed bodies and leather. They felt it so quickly as they'd crunched through the dirt paths that split the weaving rows of scrapped together tents, making their way to the recruitment line. A fleeting tickle of a sensation that hadn't filled their belly in so long. That this was like...

home.

The twins themselves were cagey and difficult to pull usable intel about. They gave sermons from the crumbling balconies of the fortress to the swathes of screaming acolytes below, too far for JK to get a clear eye on them but dressed like Sirens at least. Swirling loops of pacifying blue along the woman, and the man... jagged lines and curved whorls of a vicious red they'd never seen on any living or dead Witch. He was off. That one was wrong, and his sister made her agreement on that clear enough in how she acted next to him. She was the star, she was in the limelight, and he was relegated to a place behind her when she spoke to her worshippers and basked in their screeched worship. Odd for a "God-King" to be left in shadows, they'd thought.

Odd indeed.

They reported back to Lilith in Sanctuary whenever the opportunity arose to leave the growing "City", cult movement, basic info on what they could see as a blossoming threat to raiders, and it was always met with sneers of disgust and pity. Monsters, she'd sighed. Just using the bandits as fodder. JK's eyes flicked to the masks decorating the trophy wall behind her.

"Whatever you say, commander".

Mouthpiece had kept his word. Fully aware of what had happened to JK's clan and uncomfortable with seeing something he believed to be a walking curse among the COV's war parties, he'd purposefully sent them on suicide runs with some of the less physically capable recruits. "Trial by fire" he saw it as, simple logic when it came to survival on Pandora. Let the weak earn their place - if they die, they die. That's the law of the land, and losing the soft only leaves the clan stronger. Except, JK' scout parties just kept coming back. It had seemed almost a fluke the first couple of times, scouts didn't last long after all, but as it repeated again, and again, Mouthpiece and higher members of the raid parties began to notice.

A combination of Hellion war training and their years of working side by side with their brother had left an understanding of why having others watch your back was more beneficial than only caring about your own neck, especially when you weren't as big as the next guy. JK was a survivor, they'd never been willing to lay down and die so the rest of the clan could be down a "weak link", and their knife-edge instincts merged with a care for the other scouts not usually seen amongst Bandits meant they were teaching the team. Unifying them as a group who responded to signal whistles, barked cant, warcries that triggered defence formations and eyes on flanks. They were leading without being called a leader, and as that first year slowly ticked by, they were being noticed.

Sharp eyes that scrutinised numbers and statistics were watching the growing ratio of successful raids to lost bodies from the recessed shadows of the looming Cathedral while Jak-Knife trained and barked orders at recruits in the garrison that sprawled in the white hot sunlight below, and eventually, the day came where the God-King knew their name.

They'd stood shoulder to shoulder with their boys as they lined facing the burning light at Mouthpiece's demand. The mask lenses had done barely anything to block out Pandora's vicious sun as he'd approached, and they'd shuddered at the warchief's hissed warning to show due respect, or die where they stood. He wasn't accepting of failure, they knew that from the hushed whispers that spread across the camp at night. He expected perfection, and word from within the now sprawling architecture of the growing Cathedral was that neither twin took insult lightly. She sucked the life out of the undeserving and he, well, he supposedly just ripped heretics clean apart.

Father Troy had been all sharp angles and gaunt bone as he'd stopped his slow pace in front of them and hunched to lean down to their eye level. They'd realised how wrong they'd been about his appearance as the heavy furs that splayed across his shoulders like a mantle blotted out the sun behind him and framed his jagged silhouette in light.

Tyreen wasn't short.

Troy was a monster.

It had been hard to pick up on his scale when they'd only seen him next to his sister, they'd just figured she was a smaller woman and him a tall man, but the reality of his size was beyond intimidating now that they could see with frightening intimacy that the scrapped together prosthetic that he held at his side so effortlessly was as long as they were tall.

A glint of gold teeth through a smile they'd thought more Skag than human snapped them out of their shock, and he'd congratulated them. Thanked the "Jak-Knife" he'd been watching so closely for their excellent work on the field, waved the disturbingly proportioned metal claws of his arm towards their team and praised their group promotion, slathered honey-thick words from a barbed tongue about how they'd be blessed by being the honour guard for a God now - a fine reward for their outstanding work... yes?

The others had gasped in stuttered praise and whimpered thanks while Jk had nodded respectfully, knowing damn well that Calypso wasn't really asking at all.

The newly titled vanguard escorted him everywhere, and that meant a shift in JK's life within the blossoming city that they could not have prepared for. They no longer slept on bare ground when not visiting Sanctuary for updates, they were brought into the twin's cathedral, were able to see its glory with their own eyes for the first time. The inside wasn't anything like the still decrepit outer walls surrounded by scaffolding that workers scurried across like ants, it was like nothing Jak-Knife had ever seen.

A bastion of worship, vast cavernous stone halls spread with clan banners in colours they'd almost forgotten, neon blazing lights framing sprawling stained glass windows depicting Saints and Clergy who's names they'd heard but never put a face to.

Ur-Aurum, scowling from under heavy brows, framed in monochrome and gold. Coins and bullets pouring from his open palms.

Ur-Machina, sharp and vibrant in reds and coppers, oil-stained hands resting gently on the slab of gilded war tech she rested daintily against.

Ur-Vendit, pristine in parallel lines and perfect angles, sneering through a swathe of shining colours as numbers and cash totals ran like ivy through the window's frame.

And something new that had been being assembled along the great hall when they first entered, a half-finished window titled "Oracle" - just the fine lines of lead and a great, staring eye all that they could make out as they followed the priest irritably urging the vanguard group to hurry as they were lead to their chambers.

For the first time they had experienced, JK not only belonged, but they were envied. Their gear was decorated, armour and weapons upgraded at the Father's blessing, and the titles that came with the role were impossible to avoid, whispered in reverence by warriors who would have spat at their feet only a few years ago.

God-King's chosen, God-King's first, God-King's hand, the nods of respect passed to them by warlords like Mouthpiece in passing filled their chest with pride under the weight of its binder, and the trips back to Sanctuary became... harder.

For all they had achieved within the now monstrous in scale COV, the Raiders saw them no differently than they had when they'd first sat alone in Moxxi's. They were still a Bandit, and nothing more. JK was side-eyed, muttered about, treated like an outsider who needed to earn their keep by passing on intel they were risking their life for, all while in the back of their mind being more than aware that they could have this place raised to the ground with a damn WORD. Lilith didn't understand what it meant to be as close to Calypso as they were, that they were beginning to earn his ear.

She wasn't aware that a fucking God cared about their opinion enough to ask for it on long technical rides or when escorting him between meetings, to her, and to the rest of the Raiders, they were still simply a lost native behind a mask that was being handed scraps of decency by people better than them - and the strain of that reality was difficult to ignore. Moxxi tried her best, always there to console and remind them she valued who they were, the beautiful mind they had shared with her in tender moments and long intimate conversations over the last few years, but the insult burned in their gut still.

They weren't just Jak-Knife. They were the God King's chosen, and they were betraying someone who valued them to share internal information on Saints and departments, cashflow and raids, with people who willingly partnered with the Crimson Lance, people who just plain did not seem to understand who they were, what they had earned through sacrifice and blood shed.

But Troy? The longer they spent around Troy the more his own mask began to slip, and the harder it came to see him as any form of enemy. The blessed Father couldn't hide his weak spells or the times illness left him barely able to stand from a bodyguard who was at his side almost every waking moment, there was no way to do so regardless of how much he clearly wished there was. JK saw everything... the spasms, the fainting, heard the whistling of weak lungs when in silence next to the damaged God, saw the black circles under his eyes that the expertly applied makeup he wore could hide at a distance. He'd been aggressive about it at first, vicious and hurtful in his reactions when they'd try and assist, but over time, as they made clear that the mockery and pity he was expecting was not going to come, he'd softened. He'd thanked Jak-Knife one night as they scraped together a fire on the salt flats to chase the bitter cold away and keep their king warm.

A God had looked at them with ice blue eyes that reminded them of a face they could no longer remember, and whispered genuine appreciation for them. How could they continue to betray him. How could they hurt him for people who didn't even count JK as human?

They saw a delicate and sickly side of one of the twin God's that felt wrong to share with the raiders, that left a bad taste in their mouth to discuss with Lilith, so they simply didn't. The rationalised that the raiders did not need to know about the self-doubt or painful loss JK saw crack through Troy's facade in private, the raiders didn't need an update on how one of the twins wasn't healthy, that he could struggle sometimes to get to his feet before an audience, or would need a discreet support from the solid weight of their muscle next to his spindly frame after some events.

Lilith didn't need to know it, and as time passed, JK found they were beginning to keep secrets. Little ones at first, justified under the intel not being valuable, but the ease of witholding useful data only increased. Their position, the growing camaraderie with the COV's grunts and militia, the respect in the eyes of worshippers who looked to the Vanguard all fed into the slow realisation that their loyalty simple did not belong to the Vault Hunters, it was to Moxxi, who loved them. It was to Troy, who every day became closer to the memory of Gutpunch they'd try and visualise on lonely nights, see his crooked smile and cool eyes flicker across a face they could no longer place.

The closer JK got with the man behind the King's mask, the harder it became to give over information to the raiders that had any real tactical value...

And that had been Troy's plan, ever since the day he'd discreetly planted a tracker on them while they'd squinted against the blinding sunlight to first look into the face of a God.

[writerman]

Prompt: Thranduil and Bard went to college together but yearned from afar. Some 20ish years later they see each other again bc their kids go to college together. They weren't even aware that they lived in the same town until Legolas and Sigrid come back for vacation. Kind of like the last prompt I sent you.

Hallo, friend!

Please find my response to your prompt below. Thank you for supporting my stories by sending in prompts for me to respond to.

Please enjoy!

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It was 5am the airport was deserted and Bard really, really wished he’d filled his travel cup with coffee before he had left the house to collect Sigrid from her flight home. 

It was freezing inside and outside with winter well and truly settled in for the holidays, the snow had finally stopped and Sigrid had assured her father their flight had not been cancelled but her friend she was travelling with had booked an earlier flight to be sure they’d get back the day they wanted. 

The blast of colder air from behind him and the sound of the automatic doors meant he was now not the only one in the airport and when he turned around he was greeted with someone bundled up in a long black fur coat and deep green scarf that covered half of their face. Though they wore no hat and their long white-blond hair was dusted with snow that had started lightly falling again outside. 

They stood a few feet away from him and gazed up at the arrivals screen which wasn’t even switched on before they huffed with irritation and turned to Bard tugging down their scarf so they could speak to him. 

Though, Bard was not ready for 1) how maddeningly gorgeous the man was and 2) how it appeared to be his old crush and roommate Thranduil from university some 20 years ago. This did not go unnoticed by the blond who broke into a bright smile as his expression changed from cold indifference to joyful recognition. 

“Bard!” He moved forward without prompting and slung his arms around Bard’s shoulders in a tight embrace. “Ah, how long has it been since we last saw one another?” 

It had definitely been at least 20 years since they parted ways in University to chase their dreams with a youthful exuberance that no longer existed within them. That boundless energy at the prospect of seeing the world, true blue-sky thinking with their hopes tripping from their tongues regaling all who would listen regarding their futures. 

What had Thranduil done with his life?

What had happened to have the man come back to Dale of all the places in the world to settle?

“I had no idea you were in town, what brings you here?” Bard asks as they broke the embrace, he tried to hide the fact his face had flushed pink the second Thranduil had thrown his arms around him. 

“I’ve lived here for years, what about you?” 

How strange it was, Bard had never seen him wandering the streets, not even once in the 10 years he had been settled there in Dale. 

Flight 206 Arriving from Mirkwood Intl at 5:30 am has been delayed. 

The booming yet cheery voice over the tannoy gave Bard heart failure but the dismay at hearing Sigs flight had been cancelled was enough to cover the thundering of his heart.

When he looked to Thranduil he looked equally upset and he turned on his heel and headed towards the door. 

“Come on, let’s not hang about, while I loathe the place, MacDonalds is open and they serve semi-decent coffee. It’s better than hanging about here.” Thranduil looked over his shoulder with a small smile and Bard, O, he followed behind the blond like a puppy, the same as he had all those years ago.

He was still a puppy, and still absolutely harbouring a ridiculous crush and still terrified of confronting those feelings. Somethings just never changed, not even after 20 years, a marriage and children.

And so, that was how Bard found himself sat in the plastic chairs of a booth in the fast-food restaurant catching Thran up on his life, the loss of his wife and the kids. It seemed the blond had a similar story just with one less child and they sat in tense silence for a few moments before Thranduil leaned over the table and put his hand over Bard’s with a coy smile. 

“As inappropriate as this may sound after our conversation,” He glanced around the empty restaurant lobby before continuing. “I had such an infatuation with you when we were at university. Gods it took over my life at one point, nothing obsessive, I promise but I was absolutely in love with you,” He sat back almost immediately after he’d finished speaking, clearly feeling better now he had admitted his secret. 

The information did not help Bard in the slightest. 

“What about now?” Bard ventured feeling brave for literally no reason other than perhaps he was over-caffeinated and it was now just after 6 in the morning. “Ahah, I don’t know why I asked that. Gods, it’s too early, who books a flight this early?” Bard tried to cover his embarrassment with an inane question but Thranduil waved that away looking so serious suddenly. 

“What about now?” Thranduil mirrored the words, but the emphasis was solely on the last word and Bard couldn’t hold his gaze to the blond any longer and instead stared at the plastic lid of his coffee cup. 

“Aren’t we too old to be working through ancient crushes?” Bard asks quietly, he lifts his drink to his lips and feels the still scalding liquid slide down his throat. It was the only distraction at his disposal and being unable to talk due to it sounded like the best thing for him and his mouth that seemed to run off without engaging his mind. 

“You think now you’ve hit your 40s you cannot go in search of love?” Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow and still managing to look elegant even when unimpressed. “Don’t age yourself in such a way. Personally, yes, I struggled with the loneliness and finding new relationships for the longest time but I always knew I deserved to love again and again.” 

Surely it as easier for Thranduil to find someone to adore him. No that wasn’t fair, adoration wasn’t love. 

“Did you find love again, you didn’t mention you married again.” Bard cast his gaze to Thranduil’s hands, long fingers still smooth and as pale as he remembered… musicians hand he had always said and Thranduil had always enjoyed playing the piano when they had any sort of downtime from studying. 

There was no ring though. 

“Ah, no. It is difficult to find love and raise children at the same time. But now that Legolas is in university and Tauriel is in high school, perhaps I can try again. What about yourself?” 

There is no time for a reply as Bard’s phone begins to play the Coca Cola Christmas music signalling a call from one of his kids. 

It is Sigrid, their flight had just landed and she was currently waiting for her luggage and was he at the airport?

Both men spring from their seats and exit hastily in a bid to get to the airport before their children realise they had been sat cosied up in a MacDonalds trying their hardest not to flirt with one another.

They had failed, of course. 

Again, they went their separate ways, collecting their children and bidding one another happy holidays before heading to their separate cars likely not seeing another again. 

That was until the next day and Bard is sat on the sofa struggling to wrap Tilda’s Christmas gifts while she was out, Sigrid wanders in and hands him a piece of paper with a contact number written out neatly in her own handwriting. 

“Legolas said his dad wanted you to have his number in case of a flight delay like the last time.” A flimsy excuse and she saw right through it, Bard knew that when she grinned and plucked the half-wrapped gift from his hands to finish for him. 

“I think you should probably go call him.” It wasn’t a hint, it was an order and Bard wasn’t sure he enjoyed his children knowing anything about his love life, not like this anyway… but, rather than argue with her about anything to do with Thranduil, he merely nodded and headed to the kitchen dialling the number into his phone’s keypad as he did so. 

Thranduil answered on the second ring with a very smooth and professional greeting which melted away into a warm and friendly tone as soon as he realised it was Bard on the other end of the line. 

That was nice.

It was nice that Thranduil seemed excited to hear from him. 

“I want to get straight to the point, Thran.” Bard began realising it was far easier to talk about his feelings when the icy blue of Thranduil’s eyes weren’t rooting him to the spot speechless like they had all those years ago. “I had a crush on you in university and I hate saying crush because I’m 40 fucking years old but it never went away and I was hoping I could take you out for dinner sometime?”

There was a sigh of relief from Thranduil’s side of the line and when he spoke Bard could hear the smile in his voice.

“Look who is being so brave. You garnered the courage before I could- you win this time. I’d love to have dinner with you. I admit, being wined and dined by Bard Bowman sounds like a dream.” That was a rather big statement to make and Bard forced the oddly youthful giddiness forced down back inside himself before he said something to ruin it all. 

“A dream? How am I a dream date?” He didn’t really want to know, he was afraid Thranduil would tell him he was the perfect kind of dull for a man his age, even if that sounded out of character for the blond it was still a fear.

“Oh come on, you just want me to stroke your ego. But, fine, I suppose you deserve it after all these years.” Thranduil sounded like he was shifting to get comfortable before he spoke again, “You’re incredibly handsome, and you seemed to have gotten even better with age. You’re kind and gentle and you’re funny. I like a man that can make me laugh.”

Funny? 

He’d never been called funny before, perhaps he had been a comedian in university but he couldn’t recall, however, if Thranduil thought he was that was enough for him. 

“Ok, ok, you’ve made your point, I’m your dream man. That works well for me, so if I stuff this up I still have a chance?”

There was laughter from Thranduil and the deep rumble of it made Bard lightheaded for a second before he brought himself firmly back to planet earth to ask the most important question.

“So, when would you like to meet?” 

“Hmm, is tonight too soon?” No, no it was not, even if Thranduil had asked to meet him an hour from then he would agree. 

After all, hadn’t they spent enough time apart already?

There was no need for him to play hard to get or even casual. 

“Tonight is fine, I will pick you up at 8. Text me your address and I will see you then.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

When the call disconnected Bard wandered past the living room where Sigrid was sat talking quietly on the phone, she spotted her dad and grinned knowingly giving him a thumbs up.

He received a text later that day from Thranduil containing his address and then another right after simply saying:

I have the house to myself tonight ;) 

The night would be an eventful one but who was Bard to complain? 

This year was going to have a very different ending to all those he had spent in the past alone. Even if he was terrified of this whole new adventure, at least he was doing it with someone who wanted to be by his side for the entire ride.

[txmel]

Storytime

Sami Malek x Reader, Uncle Rami

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: A few swear words, but really just fun fluff

Summary: Rami is about to face his most challenging role yet...being a guest reader for his nephew's Kindergarten class.

Sami and you had an appointment with the doctor, so Rami, being the amazing uncle he is, offered to pick Femi up from school.

You and Sami were over the moon when you discovered your son would be having a baby brother and making your family of 3, a family of 4. Sami, Jasmine, and Rami were as close as siblings could be, and both of you wanted Femi to have a relationship like that as well. And in just a few short months, he would have that.

When you walked in the door, both of you were verbally and playfully suggesting and crossing off a list of baby names. You were both so deep into the conversation that you didn’t notice the scene before you, but then you heard it. Your conversation was interrupted by an excited Femi, with his head full of dark curls, already bouncing off the walls. His green eyes larger than normal and when he saw his dad, Femi immediately ran and jumped into Sami’s arms. He was talking so fast and loud, you and your husband could hardly understand what he was saying. The only words you could both catch were: “Uncle Ra-ra”, “book”, and something about his friends. He then pointed to the couch.

His Uncle Rami sat there and looked like his face had lost some color and you swore he was ready to pass out. You took Femi to his room to play and when you returned, you saw Rami with a glass of water on his right and Sami on his left. For some reason, Sami was almost always on his left. It had been like that since they were little.

"Geez Rami, what happened?”, your voice legitimately full of concern.

“Well, when I picked Fem up from school, his teacher came over to me and thanked me.” He took a shaky breath. “She had shown the kids ‘The Empty Pot’. Femi began bragging that I was his uncle and that I would come and read a book to his class next week. Y/N, Sam, I couldn’t say ‘no’. You should have seen the way his face lit up and I didn’t want to let him down.” When it came to his nephew, "no" wasn't in Rami's vocabulary.

Rami placed his head in his hands. "Oh shit, I don't know what to do. I don't even know where to start with reading a book to a room full of 5 and 6-year olds staring at and judging me. Fuck."

 Sami gently placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. In times of crisis, you knew they could always count on each other. With his brow creased, you saw Sami searching for words to bring comfort to his older twin. He took a deep breath before he began: "Well, I wouldn't start off with that. You might make a bad first impression.”

 You could not facepalm yourself hard enough.

When you saw him snickering, you shot Sami a look and he knows he's in for it. Your husband knew not to test the patience of your pregnancy hormones. But sometimes he was such a smartass. He just couldn’t help it.

You knew you were overreacting, but it didn't matter. It was too late for the both of you. Your hormones had taken hold and they were on overdrive. Grabbing Sami by his arm, you dragged him into the kitchen.

"Sam, I swear to God, if you don't go out there and help your brother, do you know what's going to happen?".

"Y/N, are you actually going to call my mom? Really? I'm 38 years old and technically the baby of the family. I can talk my way out of anything, especially this", he scoffed.

"Oh no. You're only going to wish I had called her." You looked him square in the eye as your hormones continued their adventurous rant. "No, something much, much worse."

A smirk ran across your face as confusion washed over his. Then from 0-60,  his facial expression went from cockiness to fright as the realization hit him like a freight train. Sami knew what was coming. You were right, he really did wish you would call his mother.

"You know Femi's class field trip next month? To the zoo?". You knew at that point you had his full attention.

"You wouldn't."

"Go in there and help him or your name is going on the volunteer sign-up list."

_______________

As you drove Rami to Sami and Femi's school, you looked to the right and observed Rami's demeanor. He sat quietly, gripping his nephew's favorite book. His Uncle Rami was the only person Femi would allow to read it to him because he was the only one who could bring perfection to the story. His skills as an award-winning actor brought immense life to anything he read. And because it was Femi's favorite, no one could bring perfection to it like he could.

You noticed the book shaking slightly, as a result of his leg's nervous reaction.

You didn't understand what made him so anxious. Rami was so calm and collected at the Oscars. He was so confident when he spoke in rooms with countless numbers of people. And he even dealt with critic's opinions with grace and dignity, whether they were positive or not. But you weren't going to ask why this situation in particular hit him so hard.

Parking the car at the front of the school, Rami ran over to the driver's side before you could even undo your seat belt. He opened the door and helped you and your rounded baby bump out of the car.

You gave the front office the proper I.D., even though they already knew who you were. You could have sworn you saw the secretary blush as she handed Rami back his I.D. and stutter as she responded to his "thank you" and "have a nice day".

You walked into the classroom and you saw Rami's nervousness begin to dissipate slightly when his nephew ran to and gave him a tight hug. Femi dragged him to the carpet where his friends were sitting, anxiously awaiting one of their favorite storytellers.

Sami walked into the room before the teacher announced Rami and his hand gravitated immediately towards yours. Thankfully, someone was able to cover his class. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he pulled you closer.

After the teacher announced their class' special guest, Rami gave a small wave and a soft "Hi boys and girls." He sat down in the chair and Sami placed a kiss on the top of your head.

Rami and Sami's eyes connected. With a silent nod of his head signaling "you got this", Rami nodded back and began.

As soon as his voice began emitting the words on the first page, his confidence was completely there. When he got to certain parts of the story, the childrens' giggles turned into roaring laughter. You and Sami began to laugh too, even though you had heard the story countless times. Rami brought such life to the story, and you understood why this was Femi's favorite book for him to read. The story didn't have pictures in it, but Rami wouldn't need them anyway.

Rami was Femi's favorite storyteller, and as you rubbed your belly, you knew Rami would be your baby's too.

And as Rami's young audience continued to be captivated by his words, Sami leaned over and quietly said: "Ana uhibbuki, Y/N. You can sign me up for the field trip next month."

You heard a low, rumbling laughter coming as you said: "I love you too, Sami. And don’t worry, I signed you up last week."

@sherlollydramoine @xmxisxforxmaybe @r-ahh-mi @diasimar @sassystrawberryk

Here is the book Rami reads in the story. If you're an elementary teacher or have kids, I highly recommend it!