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rosyblooom · 1 month

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I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

username all time favourite wag ! 🥰

yourusername ❤️❤️

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username ly girl🫶

username oh she won😩

username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡

scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

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tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others

scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

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8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

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f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

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eoieopda · 5 months

Text

sudden + (a)cute | jyh

jeong yunho’s got a serious case of downbaditis — oh, and also a cold.

pairing: jeong yunho x reader au: hurt/comfort, sick fic, friends to something type: drabble (f) word count: 2k rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact. cw: gn!reader; illness (obviously); ft. clueless roommate!mingi a/n: my inaugural ateez fic! inspired by my own sick day today + my own personal love sickness re: jeong yunho, lmao. a/n 2: reposting for the fourth time because it's not in the fucking tags, lmao. 📍permanent taglist(s). @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bahng-chrizz

You realize too late that days off and the “do not disturb” feature should go hand-in-hand.

Because you didn’t think to silence your notifications, some form of unsolicited contact slips through the cracks. Just like that, your Netflix binge is unceremoniously halted; hopes are dashed; and your phone vibrates so many fucking times in quick succession that it starts scooting its way across your coffee table, hellbent.

With a grunt of abject displeasure, you tear your half-glazed eyes off the television screen ahead. They flick down to the source of the sound to identify the caller before you commit to sitting upright off the couch. It’s a lost cause, not unlike your eagerly-awaited plans to do nothing. The nuisance lays face-down against the tabletop, buzzing relentlessly as it runs out of real estate.

Tragically, you don’t have a choice.

Before your phone can drive itself over the edge Thelma-and-Louise style, your hand darts out to catch it. You glower as your fingers curl around it, sharp tongue ready to lash out at the co-worker you told no fewer than 809 times that you were giving yourself a long weekend.

“For fuck’s sake, Yeosang,” you mutter to yourself.

Pulling the phone up to your face for closer inspection, you realize with a scoff that it’s not an incoming call at all.

It’s — one, two, three, four, five six, seven — eight rapid-fire texts and counting, all of which were sent within seconds of one another; and none of which came from the lovable doofus in the office next to yours.

You Know? [10:03 AM]: Tell… You Know? [10:03 AM]: My…. You Know? [10:03 AM]: Story….. ! You Know? [10:03 AM]: 🤧 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 😷 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🏨 You Know? [10:04 AM]: ☠️ You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🪦

Oh.

Immediately, your tight-lipped scowl cracks wide open.

Different doofus.

In the time it takes for you to convince your phone’s facial identification that you are, in fact, a human being, the bombardment continues.

You Know? [10:05 AM]: 👼🏻

This one pulls an unexpected chuckle out of you that’s still ringing out when you tap on his contact card and start dialing.

With your hands full and your wrists weighed down with plastic pharmacy bags, it takes three tries to barge into your best friend’s apartment like you own the place. Having underestimated your own clumsy strength, you watch in mild-to-moderate horror as the door flies open, cringing as you await the sound of the knob smashing into the hallway wall.

You get a yelp instead, followed shortly by a huffy, “Aish!”

The newest addition to the apartment steps into view with a pink mark in the center of his forehead. His eyes are as wide as they can get, both blinking slowly. As he rubs gingerly at the blooming bump, you wonder if the look on his face is any more dazed than usual. It must be, you conclude. He wasn’t expecting you any more than you were expecting him.

“Sorry!” You squeak, shuffling the tupperware in your grip from one hand to another. Your warmed palm reaches out to pat his forearm apologetically. “Are you okay?”

Mingi shrugs, already over the heart attack you’ve given him. Now, it’s intrigue that lights up his face. His eyes scan over the goods you’re toting. Soon enough, they stick on the samgyetang that’s scorching through its plastic confines to your fingertips.

As it turns out, Yunho’s new roommate is just as blatant as the previous one.

Where the hell does he find these people?

“You brought me soup?” He beams, teeth and tone both as bright as the fucking sun.

Your mouth opens to respond, but all that comes out is some useless sound that vaguely resembles a groan. You bite your lips together, searching for some way to let him down gently. In the end, you come up with exactly nothing.

“I —”

Withdrawing your hand from his arm, you gesture over your shoulder in the direction of Yunho’s bedroom. “It’s for, um… He’s —”

Mingi looks to where you’re pointing. His eyebrows raise, signaling his arrival at confused. “Yunho’s home?”

Jesus Christ.

“You didn’t… notice?” Your tone matches his. So does the altitude of your eyebrows, you assume.

For far too many seconds, the pair of you eye each other in stupefied silence. The person who would normally interject to save you from this hell doesn’t arrive to do so, leaving you without an escape route.

This is what happens when you find all your roommates on the internet.

“So, I should — Um.” You wave once again towards your friend’s door. “Yeah.”

You bow — you’re not sure why — and shuffle a step backwards, turning slowly on your heel the second you’ve created enough distance.

Propelled by your own awkwardness, you rocket away from your friend’s roommate and fling open your second door in as many minutes. You shut it behind you with your eyes closed tight. For good measure, you keep your back pressed to the wood, as if your own embarrassment is something you could ever lock out.

“Took you long enough,” comes the rattle of Pestilence itself.

Without unclenching any part of your body, you mutter, “I had my second run-in with your Craigslist roommate, and it went exactly as well as the first. You need a better screening process — seriously.”

A loud laugh is quickly replaced by a cough that you feel in your own chest. Frowning, you open your eyes to take in the lump in front of you; and within seconds, you have to fight off your own laughter.

Sprawled out over an unmade bed, Yunho sports an outfit you couldn’t defend if your life depended on it. Dark brown waves peek out from underneath a beanie, leaving only his eyes to crinkle up at you above a black surgical mask. Even without his mouth visible, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s grinning at you.

Well, damn.

You could stand there all day, basking in the way he looks at you, but you don’t let yourself revel in it. Cheeks already burning, you can’t risk getting caught swooning.

You’ve embarrassed yourself enough, haven’t you?

To avoid detection, you shake your head to clear it and beg yourself to focus on the absurdity before you. In doing so, you note immediately that Yunho didn’t bother with a shirt; however, he did opt for gym shorts. They clash wildly with the pair of fuzzy, striped socks on his feet. That discovery flusters you to no end because they’re yours.

“You’re dressed for, like, three conflicting seasons,” you muse, gesturing from head to toe with your free hand. The plastic bags you’ve been wearing like bracelets rustle with the movement. “Couldn’t decide on a climate?”

“Hey!” His whine is muffled by his mask, though his congestion certainly doesn’t help. “One-third of me is freezing.”

Before you can nudge his right leg out of the way, Yunho moves it for you, freeing up the corner of his mattress for you to sit down. In fact, he takes all his limbs with him; summons all his strength to sit upright in front of you. You quickly avert your eyes from his flushed chest and focus on your stupid little soup, as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

When Yunho clocks what you’re holding, he damn near gasps. His eagerness barrels through his hoarseness, making your heart flutter. “Is that your mom’s samgyetang?”

“It’s her recipe,” you correct him. “She’s visiting friends in Sydney, remember?”

For someone with a skull full of snot, Yunho’s quicker on the uptake than you would’ve thought to give him credit for. His eyes crinkle even further into a smile as they flit between your hands and your face — and shit, do they sparkle.

Before he can confirm that you not only brought him soup but hand-made it, you wrestle your arm free from the non-recyclable trap cutting off your circulation.

“I — uh, didn’t know which of the five thousand types of decongestants to bring you.”

You shove no less than four of them towards him, smiling sheepishly.

“Choose your fighter.”

It’s something you thought for sure he’d laugh at, that stupid little joke, but Yunho is uncharacteristically quiet. He just stares down at the over-the-counter medications in his hands, wearing a look you’ve never seen before. One that suggests you’ve given him your beating heart instead of Guadenesin, wrapped it in a bow instead of a kilometer-long pharmacy receipt.

It’s not a look you know what to do with, so you shut up and do your best to ride out your galloping pulse.

Without looking up from your offering, Yunho eventually says, “I didn’t even tell Craigslist Roommate that I was sick. He would’ve grabbed Albothyl or something equally useless and called it a day.”

“That tracks.” You nod. A small smile works its way over your lips. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have trusted him with your sinuses, either.”

Another pause settles in the space between you. It’s not uncomfortable, sitting quietly with your person, but you can’t help wondering after that wrinkle between his brows.

“I didn’t even think to ask him,” he admits, like he’s forgotten that he’s your first call, too.

Some sort of realization must hit him like a lightning strike because Yunho suddenly looks up from his hands. That’s all it takes to stir up the butterflies in your stomach. Unfortunately, it takes far more effort from you to ignore them.

“You made me soup,” he sighs, sounding disappointed.

Or frustrated.

Both — or maybe neither?

Whatever it is, it makes your palms sweat more than you ever plan to admit, so you simply nod again.

“I made you soup,” comes your unhelpful echo.

Silence.

Staring.

You offer a reminder that neither of you needs, “You’re sick.”

More silence and staring.

Then, a conclusion that nobody asked for: “You’re sick, and you should therefore have soup.”

Yunho drops his face into his hands, groaning loudly. The various layers of interference make him twice as difficult to understand, but you don’t miss a single, spilling word.

“I’m sick, and you made me soup; and I can’t kiss you about it because then you’ll be sick; and I don’t even know how to make you soup.”

Stunned to silence, you just sit there — blinking dumbly, all the while— like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

That’s not true.

You know what you want to do, and now you know you’re not alone in that. Most importantly, you know that acting on any of it will cost you several days of sneezing your brains out.

The groan you let out is twice as loud as Yunho’s was and three times’ as frustrated. It erupts out of you, and when you’ve expelled it fully, you crumple into a heap at the foot of his bed, thoroughly defeated. You curse him through the hands that now cover your face, “You rat bastard.”

Yunho snorts. “Excuse me?”

“What even is this timing?” You tear one hand away from your face and land a light smack on his knee. “You really waited to tell me any of this until you were contagious? Be fucking for real.”

His laugh shakes his shoulders, leaves him in the form of squeaks.

“The nerve of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The mattress dips when he drops himself into the space in front of you. Propped up on his elbow, he looks at you with one eyebrow raised.

“You bought out a pharmacy and made me soup,” he counters. “You brought this on yourself.”

You roll your eyes, although it does nothing to distract from the way you’re giggling.

“Did you not wanna get kissed?” Yunho challenges, “Because that’s how you get kissed.”

With a grin, his knuckles nudge yours, returning your earlier knock far more affectionately than you sent it. “Babo.”

“You’re the babo,” you sniff.

Despite your childish rebuttal, you take the opportunity to slip your hand fully into his. It’s not the first time, by any means, but the difference is clear; and when you squeeze gently, you feel it come right back.

With your laughter faded out, you sigh, “Yunho?”

He hums in acknowledgement, likely too exhausted by your ill-timed antics to power up a proper response.

“Can you please eat your stupid soup and get better already?”

#ateez #ateez fic #yunho #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho fic #yunho imagines #yunho scenarios #yunho fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #atz #jade writes #re: sudden + (a)cute #kvanity #if i have to repost this again i'm going to give up. WHY WON'T YOU GO IN THE TAGS?

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

Text

No Regrets - Part One

Content Warning: mentions of main character deaths but these are temporary because this is a time travel two-to-four-shot and so, they start dead but then get better :3 Also maybe a whiplash warning? In that it starts off kind of dark for a story that's pretty light-hearted in the end.

Here's the first part of the threatened season 4 AU time travel fic where Steve gets thrown back to the moment in family video when Dustin and Max show up demanding the phones. Previously he was 5 years into a grueling apocalypse.

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Steve has lived his life in regret. Replaying scenarios in his head over and over late at night when sleep eludes him. And sleep is always eluding him these days, weeks, past five years. Steve hasn't known a day without regret since the day they failed to kill Vecna, the day Max almost died. The day Eddie did.

It's five years to the day today.

Steve spends endless nights thinking about how he'd change that spring break. It was the start of the end of everything. Eddie's death wasn't world ending for Steve. It was the end of a what-if. A maybe. But for Dustin. Oh God, Dustin. Who had blamed himself for Eddie's death, who was broken and then never able to get time to recover. To grieve.

Dustin, who pulled away from everyone, from Steve, because of it.

He's not dead, Steve knows, because he still hears his voice on the radio. Separated from the group but vital to their survival. He spread intel on Demo-creature movements, where safe spaces are, news from across the broken and destroyed America, and how to survive the hellscape.

There have been losses. Terrible, tragic losses.

Murray Baughman. Lucas Sinclair. Karen and Holly Wheeler. Will Byers. And those are just the ones he knows. A lot of people scattered to the wind when Hawkins became overran with the Upside Down and its creatures.

He's still two days out on this supply run. Two more days and he'll get to know who is still around. Who they lost this time. It's not always someone they know, but the horrors never cease, and Steve's been gone a total of three weeks.

"Hey," Robin breaks him from his thoughts as she leans over to whisper in his ear, "since you're gonna daydream, you might as well actually dream. Scouts say it'll be a while before we can continue moving."

"I'm not daydreaming, I'm thinking."

"Well, be sleeping instead. You'll be more useful with some rest," Robin pats her shoulder, inviting him to lean his head against it.

"Don't use my weakness against me. You know I love being useful," Steve sighs as he drops his head onto her shoulder.

"I know. It makes you easy to manipulate," Robin teases. He can hear the smile in her voice. "Now, shut up and sleep."

Steve grumbles under his breath. No real words, just grumpy noises as he does shift and get as comfortable as he can leaned against Robin. He is tired, and with nothing else he can be doing, he won't feel too guilty about it.

He closes his eyes.

He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness of the sun shining through the glass storefront of Family Video. Usually when he dreams of the past, the sun's never this bright. It's been years since he's seen the sun at all, with the red-black sky of the Upside Down looming above them constantly.

He takes a deep breath, basking in the fresh(ish) air of Family Video. How long has it been since he's taken a breath without his mouth covered by a mask, bandana, some cloth or another? Well, he's not really breathing without a mask on, his conscious self has one on, but it still feels good to fill his lungs and release. He has half a mind to jump the counter and go outside to repeat that; see if his unconscious mind will provide a difference in the air, if it remembers enough to do so.

"Hey Steve," Dustin says as he is stepping through the doors with Max at his side. It's then that Steve takes in where the dream has started. The doors have just opened, and Steve's looking partially over his shoulder, towards the doors instead of the TV as it plays the news of Chrissy's death on the screen. The world fades back into motion, instead of the slowness the beginning of his dream started as Dustin finishes his question, "how many phones do you have?"

"Are you seeing this?" Steve asks on autopilot, playing out the scene he knows, but he holds off from stating the someone was murdered part. He's tired of saying it.

"How many phones do you have?" Dustin asks with more urgency.

Steve takes in Dustin and Max while Robin explains the phone situation. It's been so fucking long since he's seen Dustin. Since Max was able to see him. God. He can't let this play out like normal. It's not going to fix reality, he knows that logically, but what would it hurt to live out his fantasy of getting a re-do while he dreams? Wasn't that what he was thinking about while awake?

He tunes back into the conversation when Dustin shoves his backpack across the counter, and then himself. Instead of whining about the tapes, he reaches for the pen and notepad they keep close to the till. "Hey, what's this about?"

"Max, fill them in while I do this," Dustin replies.

Max turns to him and Robin, who is eyeing both Steve and Max but listening. Max explains what Steve already knows. The lights going crazy, Eddie fleeing his own home, and that it might be Upside Down related.

There's a script here. Responses he has memorized because of how often he dreams this moment over and over. An answer Steve usually gives, but this time he finds he can hold his tongue. He doesn't have to speak. Doesn't have to follow the script.

"Okay," Steve says instead. "Dustin, what's the number for the Byers now?

Surprisingly, that actually pulls Dustin from the computer. He spins on the stool to give Steve a confused look. "What? Why?"

If he's being honest with himself, he's never really had this much control over his dreams before. Having this control makes him want to do all the things he's daydreamed about. To change the choices that fill him with regret and guilt. "I want to leave a message for Jonathan," Steve lies, "or talk to him if he's home. Give him a heads up that Upside Down shit might be going on again."

Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, suspicious, "Jonathan?"

"Yeah. Jonathan," Steve says in his bitchiest voice. "Number, dude."

He can tell Dustin doesn't fully believe the lie, but he recites the number anyway.

"Thanks," Steve says as he scoots around Robin and heads to Keith's office to use the phone there. The first thing he does is call the police station and let them know that he saw Eddie Munson at Rick Lipton's place, up by Lover's Lake on Holland Road. The lady who answered starts to ask questions, Steve just says he recognized the trailer on TV as the Munson's and hangs up. He'll swing by later once everyone else has pieced together the Rick Lipton part of this all themselves. If Eddie's still there, he'll drag him to the station himself.

'Cause the thing is, Steve has thought of many scenarios. So many. And even if nothing else changes, this is the bit that will. Eddie cannot be killed in the Upside Down if he is in a jail cell instead. And if the police do follow up on his tip, then they'll take Eddie in for questioning before Fred dies. And that's.

Well.

Steve's living through the end of the world and that changes people. It's changed Steve. Once there would have been a time when allowing someone to die, knowing it was going to happen and not stopping it, would have filled Steve with guilt, regret, maybe even some self-loathing. But Steve's made enough sacrifices for this town. Lost enough of the people he loves to be jaded. Maybe even cruel. If Fred has to die to prove that Eddie didn't do it, then that's what will happen.

His next step is to call the Byers. It surprises him that Joyce actually answers with a hesitant hello. That never happens in the dreams.

"Joyce. I mean, Ms. Byers. It's Steve. Uhh, Steve Harrington," he says.

"Oh. Hello Steve. What, uh, what can I do for you?" Joyce's voice is still hesitant.

"Listen, the Upside Down is back. Or, like, it was never gone? I don't know. But I needed to tell you."

"Oh my God," Joyce sounds horrified, and Steve can hear Murray in the background asking questions. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Vec- sorry, it has already killed a girl. Max was a witness. Well, of the aftermath. But that's not important. What I need is for you to tell El that she's never been a monster and never will be. That everything has been the fault of One. And I think you should tell her Hopper is alive and you're going to rescue him."

There's not an immediate answer. A rustling sound and then faint voices he can't make out. She must be covering the phone with her hand as she and Murray talk. Or argue, knowing Murray. After a moment, Murray's voice comes through the line, "How do we know you are who you say you are?"

It's followed by Joyce shouting, "How do you know about Hopper?" and Murray quickly shushing her and some shuffling noises before Joyce says, "Okay. We're both listening."

"Look, I know you have no reason to believe me so I'll give you something that might serve as proof that I know things I shouldn't. When everyone gets back from the roller rink, be there for El. She's going to- to have a bad night, because of a girl that's been, like, bullying her at school. Then, I need you to get them headed this way tomorrow morning, because you gotta be gone then, too, but like. Be there for El tonight. There will be an incident involving a roller skate. So, if you believe me, call me back after that."

"How do we know you're who you claim to be, Steve?" Murray questions again, while Joyce says, horrified, "El's been being bullied?"

"I can't exactly prove I'm me. But call my house tonight after you've spoken to El and I'll answer. That's the best I can do. I... I don't know if Jonathan or Mike have my number, but Mike can call home and get my number from Nancy. That'll be proof, right? Or Will can get it from Dustin. Whichever."

"And how do you know about something happening tonight at the roller rink?" Joyce demands.

"I know more than I should. So, if the roller rink thing holds up, and you decide to at least hear me all the way out, call my house," Steve hangs up then, not wanting to get into a loop of explanation.

"Steve! Hurry up and come help people while I help Thing One and Thing Two!" Robin calls through the door and Steve takes a step towards the closed door to comply but he stops, hand hanging just above the doorknob. That's how the dream goes. That's what 19-year-old Steve would have done.

But that's a Steve that died five years ago, when the world ended, when the apocalypse started. Steve's not 19 anymore, though he must look it, a master of his own puppet. He's never sought himself out in a mirror when he dreams; he's too busy taking in everyone who has been lost to him in his waking life to bother with himself.

What does he want to do this time?

What does he want to do right now?

He leaves Keith's office to beeline to Dustin, pausing only to pat Robin on the shoulder. He slides around Max and comes to a stop beside Dustin.

"I already told you, I need this for-" Dustin starts to speak but cuts off with a squawk that sounds like a mixture of indignation and confusion as Steve just reaching out and bodily turns Dustin towards him. "Steve, this is important!"

"I know," Steve says and then hugs Dustin. Dustin doesn't hug back, but neither does he pull away. Steve knows he's missed Dustin, felt his loss for many years now, but holding Dustin now, feeling him solid and here feels Steve what he can only equate to grief.

Dustin lets himself be hugged for what is, undoubtedly, an awkward amount of time for him before he thumps Steve's back twice and says, "okay... You can stop now."

Steve lets go and turns to Max, who immediately puts her hands up, "No. Absolutely not."

He chuckles and steps around her. He won't force his affection on her.

Then he takes off the family video vest and sets it on the counter.

"Steve?" Robin asks.

"Sorry, Robs, I can't stay and help customers. I have some things I got to do."

"Steve, you cannot abandon me on a Saturday!"

He can't quite bring himself to feel bad for abandoning her. It is a shit thing to do but right now saving Eddie and Max from Vecna is more important. He's already wasting daylight, so instead of answering his gives her his best 'I'm so sorry' face and bolts out the door. All three of them shout after him but he doesn't slow.

He's got a list of regrets to change.

Tagging the besties and all the people that expressed interest when I posted the lil blurb about this. Sorry if I missed you!

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @music9009 @apomaro-mellow @soaringornithopter @reighnofdreams @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @sirsnacksalot @livelifeliketheresnotomorow @sageclipse @schnukiputz @mbloggotdeletedsothisismybackup @lumoschildextra @vampirestevie @alex-axolotl @juleswashere3 @yet-still-more-banched

#steddie #my fic #it's a late birthday fic to myself #not at light-hearted as I wanted #but I'm in a less light-hearted place now than when I first wanted to write this. So my mood has changed the story a bit

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perlelune · 3 months

Note

could we get an update on coryo and reader in no body, no crime? like maybe during her pregnancy or after she gives birth?

Another painful smile is nudged onto your lips as you unwrap Clemensia’s gift. It’s all you’ve done the entire morning. Sit in the living room like a dutiful wife while pretending you don’t feel sick every time someone compliments you on how well pregnancy suits you or what a gorgeous couple the two of you are.

The baby shower is just another well-crafted punishment by him. Yet another way to flaunt his victory in your face. Remind you that you’re to be a prisoner and him the jailor for the rest of your life.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Clemmie,” you chime wryly as you consider the music box. It portrays two lovers entwined, twirling whenever the golden key on the side is turned.

She beams at you.

“You’re welcome. I saw it and thought of you two and your beautiful love story.”

“Our beautiful love story…” you mumble, your fingers tightening to the point of pain around the woodens edges of the box. You grow dizzy. Clemensia continues cheerfully, unaware of your shift in mood, “You know Liv is boiling with rage right now. That’s why she didn’t come.” She giggles and bends over your shoulder to share, “She’s had her eye on Coriolanus since he came back walking and behaving all differently.”

“You’re the luckiest girl in all of Panem,” she elates, squeezing your hands in hers.

A wave of queasiness overtakes you, even worse than your bouts of morning nausea.

You bolt to your feet, the well of pretense running dry within you.

“If you’ll excuse me. I’m not feeling too well…”

“But we haven’t cut the cake yet,” Clemensia pouts.

“You can do it without me,” you answer evasively as you waddle away from her. It’s all you can manage these days. Waddle around the penthouse like a duck with how swollen your belly is.

“Sweetie…” your mother hails you as you make your way up the stairs.

“I need to pee, Ma,” you icily reply.

The smile dies on your mother’s face as you brush past her. Six months ago, this would have stirred your guilt. Not any longer. Your life is ruined and Ma welcomed the monster responsible into her arms like a son.

Your isolation to the bedroom upstairs is soon interrupted by your husband sneaking up behind you.

“Pregnancy looks good on you, princess,” he purrs as he wraps his arms around your midriff. His mouth grazes against your temple. “Everyone’s missing you at the party.”

“Well, I can only pretend this marriage isn’t a total farce for so long,” you reply, making no effort to conceal the visceral hate sizzling through you.

“Only because you’re being difficult,” Coriolanus points out softly, his large hands sweeping over your baby bump. “You don’t have to fight me at every step.”

You whirl abruptly.

“You took everything from me,” you hiss, irate tears welling up in your eyes. “My future-”

He gives a derisive snort. “I gave you a future. You really thought you had one with this pathetic wastrel?”

Your head grows hot with the insult. He has no right to mention him.

Your gaze narrows. “Even lying in the ground, he is more man than you’ll ever be, Coriolanus Snow.”

His blue eyes flare dangerously. His fingers cinch around your wrists, a wicked grin breaking out on his face. Your bones grind against one another as pain pulses through your wrists.

“Is he now? Do you want me to show you how much of a man I am?”

Your heart bounces as your husband drags you against your will and shoves you on the bed.

“Don’t,” you say squirming underneath him. There’s a disquieting emptiness in his blue gaze as he removes his belt and loops it around your hands to bind you to the headboard. A tragically familiar chill settles in your bones when he pulls his pants down and frees his hard cock.

“Since you’re so concerned about it…” your husband grunts, piercing your dry folds with his thick tip. His hand over your mouth stifles the scream building in your throat. He sinks inside you and your entire body comes alight with pain. Coriolanus plants tender kisses alongside your neck as he begins to move. The mattress squeaks with each of his sharp, brutal thrusts. “I’ll show you exactly how man I am, princess.”

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ahmeduxui · 2 months

Text

Rescue the Zourob family in Gaza, bring hope.

In the heart of this destructive war in Gaza, lives Ahmed Zourob, whose life has witnessed a tragic downturn. It occurred on one of the early days of the war when they believed it wouldn't last long. However, harsh reality shocked Ahmed and his family in unimaginable ways. During an online work meeting, a massive explosion shattered their home and dreams, claiming the lives of their innocent loved ones.

Fear and death became their companions as they fled several times to relatives, seeking shelter. Disasters continued as their uncle's house collapsed in another explosion, resulting in the loss of 30 of their relatives. They managed to rescue only their aunt from under the rubble, in need of urgent medical care. They returned to displacement, searching for a safe place.

Their tragedy persisted, and as they tried to rebuild, disasters recurred. Bombardment struck their displacement location again, causing the death of nearly 90 people from their family. The dream of a normal life seemed elusive, and hardship dominated their lives – no safe haven, no electricity, no water, and none of life's essentials.

Now, with only six people left, Ahmed and his family face the daunting challenge of survival. The responsibility for their well-being falls solely on Ahmed's shoulders.

The situation didn't stop there, as the occupation approached their displacement site, threatening more misfortune. Ahmed, the young man with dreams and aspirations, now faces losses in every aspect of his life. He needs your support to travel to Egypt, where donations can serve as a lifeline for him and his family.

Despite Ahmed's hard and efficient work, life surprised him with harsh turns. Now, he must confront the challenges of dark nights and despair. With your support, Ahmed and his family can rise from the ruins of war and the harsh ordeal they are going through. Every donation represents a glimmer of light in the darkness of their lives, an opportunity to rebuild their shattered hopes.

If you would like to contribute and support Ahmed and his family, please consider donating through this link. Your generosity can make a meaningful difference in their lives.

This is my story

Eng Ahmed Zourob

Your support means the world to us! Sending heartfelt love from the core of Palestine.

#human rights #palestine #i stand with palestine #rafah #gaza #gaza genocide #gaza strip #free gaza #gazaunderattack #free palestine #ui ux design

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taggedmemes · 4 months

Text

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART SIX

leave us in peace and we shall leave you in kind.

cut the crap.

we just want to go home.

enough of this charade.

i'll not play pretend anymore.

you'll soon learn what it means to ally yourself with the likes of this garbage.

i'm free now, and i'm never going back.

fuck them.

felt good letting off a little steam.

if i burn any hotter, i might explode.

don't get too close until i've found a way to calm down.

it's a bit early to be getting into tragic backstories.

let's save the scar-show for later after we've worked up an appetite for tragedy.

in the grand scheme of things, i'm inconsequential [to her].

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

it had the makings of a good stage show, but i did not want to be one of the players.

torture, bloodsport? or perhaps just a good old-fashioned walloping?

you owe me nothing.

i could extort you, if that's what you want.

you're teasing me now.

ignorance is alive and well it seems.

don't make me get the wooden spoon.

you'd best have one hells of an apology for me.

if you think your precious little god holds any power here, you're in for a surprise.

do you treat all your guests so poorly?

i don't like busybodies.

you are as thick as they come.

are you telling me you made love to a goddess?

i shared a bed with a goddess and yet i wasn't satisfied.

shall i share the story behind it or would you rather head straight to its sordid finale?

how are you still alive?

we've come this far together and we'll continue on together.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i'll rip your spine out of your asshole.

i'll use your blood to spice my stew.

i'll keep you alive until i've sucked the marrow from your bones.

killing me is a waste of time.

you bastard, you ruined everything.

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

a slap is all you deserve.

a hag was never going to help you.

they don't help anyone but themselves.

that double-crossing, filthy, lying hag.

focus on the positive.

forgive the aroma.

perhaps that is why i have survived so long where more fearsome peers have not.

your loyalty is admirable but misplaced.

his kind have charm beyond our mortal means to resist.

who'd keep a secret like that from his friends?

you can't trust anyone these days.

even in the middle of nowhere, he can reach me.

why do you insist on exhuming the past?

people think the biggest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stake.

they're scheming, paranoid, power-hungry beasts.

i am what i must be, says what i must be.

how does it feel to be a devil?

i can't tell if you're being silly or serious.

you have to admire the man's ambition.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

you kept me by your side despite the menace i am.

i learned quick how to stay alive.

to feel invincible again.

this isn't where i thought i'd end up.

maybe when this is all done, you can show me where you came from.

i'm not normally one to begrudge someone their secrets, but..

i'm already blessed to have you at my side.

don't you cut a fine figure.

i am not some lower city coinlad offering you a tumble.

there is nothing so depressing as learning one's true value.

i could use someone with your skills.

they're ravenous predators with fangs like daggers.

it's hardly an irrational fear to harbor.

you've been decent to me, so far.

everyone's got their own fears.

maybe that's what i like about you.

all of this was for nothing.

if you're here to help, get to the fight quickly.

gods, i thought you were one of those beasts.

i'm not chasing after it, if that's what you're thinking.

the little beast's charming once you get accustomed to the smell of rotting flesh.

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #roleplay meme #starter sentences #rp starters #rpc #starter meme #sentence prompts #sentence prompt #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #writing prompt #bg3 meme

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rxmqnova · 6 months

Text

The youngest Maximoff

Y/N: 6 years old Wanda: 18 years old Story: Wanda and her little sister move to the compound, though Wanda has to tell her little sister about their brother's death… ——————————————————

WANDA'S POV Y/N was only a newborn when the tragic accident happened and our parents died. Six years later we're moving to the Avengers compound… without another member of our family, my twin brother Pietro. It's been two weeks since he died and I still haven't told Y/N about it. I just don't know how. How do I tell a 6 year old that her brother will never come back?

"We'll be living here now?" Y/N asks with sparks in her eyes, watching the huge building in front of us.

"It's cool right?" I chuckle when I see her staring at the building with her mouth opened.

"It's so cool!" She squeals excitedly. "Pietro is there?" She asks, pointing at the building. I sigh, trying to stay strong for her and lift her up, sitting her on my hip. She's been in hiding the entire time, she has no idea what happened.

"I have to tell you something, sweetheart. We'll take our stuff in and then we'll have a little talk, okay?" I ask carefully, receiving a nod from my little sister. I take the one bag we have as we don't really have much stuff and walk towards the front door.

Y/N cuddles up to me as I carry her and the bag inside. We're greeted by Stark and Steve who are discussing something.

"There you are" Steve gives me a smile. I told him and Stark about Y/N. I'm not sure if they told the others or not, but I told these two as I need to take care of Y/N. "This is her?"

"Yeah" I nod. "This is my sister Y/N" I smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Honey, this is Steve and Tony" I tell her, pointing at the boys.

"Hi" Y/N mumbles shyly before hiding her head into the crock of my neck. She's always very shy when it comes to meeting new people.

"I'll show you your room" Steve smiles. I follow him through the compound with Y/N in my arms, playing with my hair. "I wasn't sure if you'd like to keep her with you or not, so that room is free to become Y/N's room" Steve says, pointing at the room next to mine.

"Thanks" I smile back at him.

"Okay. We're having dinner in an hour, so you two are welcomed to join" He smiles. I thank him again before walking into my new room.

Y/N looks around, mumbling about how cool and big the room is. I place our bag on the ground and sit Y/N on the bed.

"Where's Pietro's room? Can we go and say hi to him?" Y/N asks sweetly on which I sigh and sit on the bed next to her.

"Honey, I need to tell you something about Pietro" I start. I have to be gentle with her, but I just have no idea how. Y/N looks at me with her big green eyes, waiting for me to speak. "Y/N/N… Pietro won't be living here with us"

"Why?" She tilts her head in confusion. I take a deep breath before continuing.

"Because… he's not here with us anymore, sweetheart" I sigh, pushing back my tears.

"Call him to come" She says, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes filling with tears.

"I can't, honey" I whisper, a few tears escaping my eyes. "He's with mama and papa now… up there" I point up with my finger on which Y/N bursts into tears immediately. "I know, honey. I'm so sorry" I sigh, also letting my tears run. I take Y/N into my arms, rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth while placing kisses on her forehead as an attempt to calm her down.

"I want him to be here" She cries out into my neck.

"I know, my little monkey. Me too" I tell her, kissing her cheek. "Bring him back, Wanda" She cries out.

"Honey, I can't do that" I almost whisper, my response making her cry even more.

Y/N continues to cry for a long time, but I eventually get her to calm down. Now she's just sobbing in my arms, twirling her fingers around my hair which she always does when she's tired.

"Wanda?" Y/N mumbles. I hum, waiting for her to speak. She lifts her head up, looking at me with her tired puffy eyes. "You will never leave me, right?" She asks, her voice breaking.

"… I'll never leave you, sweetheart" I kiss her forehead and give her a smile on which she buries her head back into my neck, snuggling up to me.

"I love you, Wanda" I hear her mumble.

"I love you too, Y/N/N" I smile and kiss her head a few more times. "Are you hungry?" I ask, earning a quiet nod from her. "Let's change and go for dinner then"

I sit Y/N on the bed and take some shirt and sweatpants from the bag to change her into. I help her to change before quickly changing myself. I sit her onto my hip and carry her to the kitchen while she's just cuddled up to me.

We come to the kitchen and the team is already there, besides the ones who are on missions. My attempt to sit Y/N on the chair is immediately unsuccessful as Y/N's holding me for her dear life. I sigh, carrying her with me. I manage to prepare food for us and then sit her on my lap as she's refusing to sit anywhere else.

"And done" I smile, kissing Y/N's forehead as she just finished her dinner. "What would my Y/N/N like to do now?" I boop her nose with a smile, making her smile a little bit.

"Play with you" Y/N says, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Okay. But only for a little bit, because it's almost bedtime" I smile.

Y/N nods, already running away. I swear the girl is quicker than most of the Avengers and she doesn't even have powers, so I sigh and start walking after her.

NATASHA'S POV I just stepped into the compound after a mission. I let out a sigh of relief as I'm getting closer to my room. But before I actually reach the handle of the door of my room, something crashes into my legs from behind. I turn around, finding a little girl on the ground surrounded by 3 teddy bears.

"Are you okay, little one?" I kneel to her, offering her a smile. The girl only nods, but I can see the tears in her eyes as she lets out a little sob. Why do we even have a child here? "What's your name, sweetheart?" I ask with a smile, trying not to scare her.

"Y/N" She mumbles, wiping away the tear that has fallen from her eye.

"That's a really pretty name, sweetheart. I'm Natasha" I smile. "What are you doing here alone?"

"I went for my toys, so Wanda and I could play" She explains… That must be Wanda's little sister. I've heard she had one, but never asked Wanda about her or saw her, so I suppose this is her.

"You need to be careful next time, детка" I give her a smile. (baby)

"But my teddy bears are so big and I can't see when I carry them" Y/N sighs, dropping her hands on her thighs dramatically.

"Would you like me to help you?" I offer, seeing her smile and nod her head. She lifts her arms up, so I stand her on the ground, but she pouts and keeps her arms up. I sigh with a smile and sit her on my hip, handing her one of the teddy bears and taking the rest of them myself. "Where are we going?" I ask the girl in my arms.

"Kitchen!" She orders, pointing at the direction the kitchen is.

"Kitchen it is then" I smile back and start walking to the kitchen.

"Natty, where have you been the whole time?" Y/N asks, kicking her legs.

"I had a mission, sweetheart. I had to kick some bad guys' butts" I tell her, making her giggle.

"Y/N/N, are you okay? I was worried something happened to you. You can't run away like that" Wanda sighs, immediately taking Y/N into her arms.

"I met Natty" Y/N says, pointing at me with her little finger.

"Nat, I'm sorry. You must be tired from the mission. Didn't she bother you much?" Wanda asks, a hint of worry in her eyes.

"It's fine. She's adorable" I smile at Y/N, giving her tummy a little tickle which makes her laugh. Honestly, Y/N's laugh is my favorite sound now. "I'm gonna head to bed now though, I'll see you guys later" I smile, handing Wanda the teddy bears.

"Bye bye, Natty" Y/N waves me, so I wave her back, telling her 'bye bye' too.

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

Part 2

Series masterlist

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #natasha romanoff #black widow #fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x sister!reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader

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david-talks-sw · 1 year

Text

At some point when talking about the Jedi and the Prequels and Star Wars, I feel like there's distinctions that need to be made.

There's George Lucas' Star Wars.

And then there's Star Wars the transmedia franchise.

They are not one and the same.

They have similar messages. Depending on which continuity you go for, the message is more or less alike (Disney canon's treatment of the Jedi Order is slightly more aligned with GL's vision than the Legends canon was).

But they are not the same.

George Lucas' Star Wars is just the six films and the first six seasons of TCW which serve as an addendum to the six films, and the values and messages that derive from them.

The transmedia franchise has those values, but they've been diluted through comics and novels and games and authors who don't agree with GL's vision and authors who tweaked it a bit and retcons until it's no longer the same thing.

Which takes us to "did the Jedi deserve to fall" and the answers:

"no, but the institution needed to go"

There is NOTHING to indicate that read in George Lucas' Star Wars.

If you go by the movies ONLY, then the Jedi are in the right, and what happens to them is tragic, and I don't just mean Order 66.

The movies' narrative literally frames them - as a people, a religion and an institution - (and Bail Organa) as objectively good and the only ones trying to do what's right.

However, some of the marketing and storylines and comics and books presented in the EU and in new canon do support this POV.

If you count those as "just as valid and canon as the films and shows" then you'll have a very different view of the Jedi Order.

"yes, for what they did to Ahsoka".

Ahsoka is part of TCW.

If your Star Wars is the same as Lucas', then TCW is meant to be an asterisk in the larger story, nothing more than a footnote.

As such, Ahsoka's part is NOT that big, her being on Mandalore or being expelled from the Jedi Order is NOT a contributing factor for Anakin's turn to the Dark Side.

Ahsoka is NOT a part of the Prequels, which represent KEY moments in Anakin's life and the Republic's downfall.

But for many, Star Wars is the transmedia franchise. And TCW and the Prequel films are one and the same. So Ahsoka's treatment factors into the judgment.

If you add TCW's stories to the mix, welp, the show certainly questions them here and there, showing the war corrupted their values (because it was designed to do so) but in the first six seasons it does so in a fair manner showing both sides of the argument.

They're framed as caught between a rock and a hard place. They HAVE to do the very thing they didn't wanna do or people get enslaved and get killed.

Under Lucas, TCW does what it was meant to do: it adds footnotes, it shows unfortunate downsides. It's not meant to define what is seen in the films.

Whereas by the time we're in Season 7 and Lucas is no longer involved, we get this:

"They could do better but choose not to because they're playing politics." That's it.

Which is what I mean when I'm talking about the franchise: it has grown past George Lucas' vision, for better or for worse.

For some, TCW redefines what is seen in the films.

#worth pointing out #star wars #jedi order

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the-great-british-blorbo-off · 6 months

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Bracket 2: Round 1, Match 1

Propaganda under the cut! Please be aware that some may contain spoilers.

Jonathan Sims:

They are the perfect tragic protagonist, pretty much doomed from the beginning but with a story so gripping you can't help but route for him and feel for him. No spoilers but his gradually developing powers are really cool and his descent is really interesting. Bonus points: he's canonically ace and has dated men and women.

He's asexual. He's biromantic. He's friends with his ex from university who runs a podcast talking about ghosts. He uses skepticism to cope with trauma and the horrors. He was framed for brutal pipe murder by his boss. When it was explained to Melanie, his ex's current girlfriend, she thought he had burnt someone to death with a smoking pipe because it seemed more in character for him. He got stabbed by the manifestation of losing your mind and successfully lied to his coworker about it. Said coworker, Martin, also had a crush on him, and he A) didn't know, and B) hated him, one reason being Martin had accidentally let a dog into the archives. He has severe arachnophobia. Martin doesn't know this for the first couple seasons, and continually tells him why spiders are important for the ecosystem. In season 2, after a woman filled with murderous worms invades the archives and Martin finds the murdered corpse of the Archivist before Jon in the tunnels below the institute, Jon gets incredibly paranoid that one of his assistants killed her. He makes a deal with Basira, a detective, that she'll get him as many of the recorded tapes found by her body to him as she can, and when he explains to Tim that the reason she was looking for him was he's "helping her with the investigation", Tim takes this to mean he and Basira are hooking up. When he first encounters the evil mannequin ringmaster, his first question is why she doesn't sound Russian. His second question is whether she's going to kill him. He was kidnapped by a circus for at least several weeks and forcibly moisturized. He was in a coma for six months after blowing up a wax museum filled with evil clowns, and only woke up because a random end avatar told him to. When he wakes up, he realizes he loves Martin, and finds that Martin has devoted himself to the concept of being lonely to protect the rest of the Archives employees. He was manipulated into starting the apocalypse. He went to America for a while, got kidnapped by a pair of monster hunters, and met a dead goth trapped in a book. He made a deal with a guy who steals people's bones to remove 2 of his ribs so he could use one of them to get a werewolf detective out of the coffin dimension of being buried alive. His solution before this was to cut off his finger and use that as his anchor, but it didn't work because he physically could not cut through his finger (it kept healing). He realized a shape shifter had killed and replaced his coworker, and immediately bought an axe to destroy the table it was bound in, which he didn't realize would set it free. He's the Ceaseless Watcher's special little boy. He's the antichrist. During and just before the apocalypse, he repeatedly eviscerates the horrors and villains with his mind. Martin finds this hot. During the apocalypse, when they come across the end avatar who woke him up from his coma, Martin asks Jon to kill him because he's jealous that he got Jon to wake up and Martin didn't. He's been kidnapped at least three times. He accidentally manifests tape recorders everywhere.

he got an archiving job and accidentally became the antichrist and i love him SO MUCH!!

Tormented by The Horrors, is a big grump with an even bigger heart, an asexual icon, what else can I say fhdjdhdj

Sopping wet beast

Laszlo Cravensworth:

An extremely British wife guy who is also a vampire. So British that he hates Britain (average British trait). He claimed once that he was Jack the Ripper. He is a very talented musician and composer, having written many popular songs (although not with the same lyrics). Has a passion for science and experiments on people for fun. Ultimate blorbo because he's mostly silly but has a fascination with humanity that drives lots of his actions (music, science, the friends he makes, etc.) which is very special to me.

Feel free to add your own in the tags!

#britpoll #poll #tournament #uk #jonathan sims #the magnus archives #laszlo cravensworth #what we do in the shadows #bracket 2

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lottiecrabie · 4 months

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this is like the 75blr’s easter

what the hell have i been up to you might ask? well i bought plane tickets to england and am planning a trip during february. yes i will be at a 75 concert. yes i will meet some bffs. (me and wrongendofurcigarette in a bunk bed in manc we love to see it!!) i quit my job after two years and a half of being at the bakery. it will Hopefully stick and i won’t be so horrendously broke after my trip that i’ll need to crawl back to them. on a tragic note, my grandpa died and kind of threw our whole lives upside down as my grandma is very sick and it’s kind of impossible to have access to the money to take care of her. i said goodbye to my best friend who is taking a semester abroad, i won’t see her for five months. i updated my instagram after having the same update since 2019. i held a funeral for it today<3 my galatea matty also broke up with his gf today, though has left a door open to go back to her if i say no. if i’m drunk enough i might see him today. i deleted tumblr. i’ve abandoned pfms.

i assume this is why you’re really reading this update. yes, unfortunately, i have been so incredibly unmotivated to write pfms5 for the past six months that i couldn’t bring myself to even dream of continuing it. i have opened the google doc a never ending amount of times, and each of them i would stare at the blank document and exit, or write a few words and hate them and delete. it started bringing such unhappiness that i just didn’t feel like finishing it, and once i realized the thought of having it incomplete didn’t make me want to die, even my usual completist mindset couldn’t force me to finish anything.

i still hope that i’ll one day finish pfms because it’s genuinely a story that i love and want to tell and that i know exactly how it’ll go, but it’s in the way people dream of becoming billionaires. that’s probably not gonna happen, jerry, so start dreaming a back-up plan. until some miracle happens, pfms5 is abandoned and i am Officialy Retired.

i love you all. i originally planned to quiet quit tumblr but then i realized i wanted to still have access to this account when i felt like it😭

#The Crabsurrection #crabie

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zablife · 1 year

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Tachipen (Part 5)

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a young gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he takes pity on her and employs her as a nanny for John’s children instead. The arrangement soon sours when Tommy believes his horse has been cursed and demands her help stealing from the Lees. When she seeks solace in John’s company, an innocent romance blossoms, but a war with the Lees and Polly’s poorly-timed advice drive them apart in a way that will change their history forever. As the scenes from the present reveal, Y/n must watch the Shelby men go on to love others while she is shut out. However, the events of one tragic afternoon could change everything.

Author’s Note: After a 5 month hiatus, this story is back! I'll be updating more regularly now that I've outlined more of the fic. The story is told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925.

Warnings: language, ethnic slur, implied smut, mention of pregnancy, mention of arranged marriage

Part 4

1924

The frosted glass shook as Polly forcefully closed John’s office door, her eyes darting from you to her nephew. “What is this I hear about the two of you sniping at one another like bloody children?”

You and John both started speaking at once and Polly shouted over you to assert authority. “That’s enough! John, perhaps you could explain why you’re even in the office today?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Y/n is perfectly capable of supervising the other girls.”

John opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock, giving the appearance of a fish out of water before you interjected. “He’s been hovering over me for weeks, Pol. Won’t let me finish one fucking job without trying to find a mistake!”

John pointed a finger in your direction as he retorted, “If she could keep her mind on her work instead of her love life for a change--”

“Would you stop?!" you screamed, interrupting him mid-sentence. You felt the emotion welling in your chest and did your best to keep from crying. Running a shaky hand through your hair, you took a deep breath to regain control before continuing your plea to Polly. "I did as I was told. I broke up with Angel and I apologized…” you stopped before you broke down, then continued with the part that stung most, “for the inconvenience.” Those had been the words Arthur insisted you use. He’d probably consulted Linda about it at the first sign of trouble, you thought bitterly.

Polly softened at your show of emotion, reaching across the table for your hand. “Alright, I think I understand. John, would you leave us, please?” John nodded with clenched jaw, pushing out of his chair with more force than necessary. He looked back at you as he crossed to the door and you swore you saw a brief shadow of remorse cross his handsome features though you couldn’t be sure with the lingering tension between you.

When you were finally alone, Polly began, “Y/n, I’m sorry about this. I know you’re upset about the Changretta boy and I don’t blame you, but what’s done is done. And you must understand that John is under a lot of stress at home. I’m not sure if you know this, but there's another little one on the way,” she said hesitantly.

“Again?” you nearly shrieked. It was the third time in the nearly four years he'd been married.

Polly nodded slowly. “You see why he’s so on edge lately?”

You swallowed thickly, thinking of how chaotic the household must be with six children, soon to be seven. Although you attempted a shred of compassion for his new wife, you couldn’t manage it. “Yes, I understand,” you said in a quiet monotone. “He has a lot of people depending on him.” It was what Polly wanted to hear so you spoke the words, turning your head away so she couldn’t read your expression.

“Exactly. I know it doesn’t excuse his behavior here, but we all have to learn to get along,” she advised, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before leaving you alone in the room. A bitter laugh escaped your throat at the thought of any of you living peacefully after all you’d inflicted upon one another.

—————————————————-

1919

As the first rays of dawn broke, you sat up in bed, face aching from the bruise across your cheek and your mind reeling from the events of the previous day. If Tommy hadn’t trusted you before, there was no hope for you now with so much cash missing from the betting shop, especially when he learned the Lees were to blame. How could he not think you were involved?

Panic setting into your bones, you decided to make a hasty retreat from Polly’s house while you still could. Despite the throbbing in your wrist, you slipped your dress over your head and silently turned the bedroom doorknob, giving the hallway a quick glance for occupants. With no signs of activity, you slipped quietly down the steps and right to the front door, knowing this would be the most difficult part of your escape. The rusty hinges creaked loudly and you cringed at the noise, well aware of how it carried throughout the house. Rightfully so as Tommy’s voice beckoned to you at the sound. “Where are you off to so early?” his husky voice called out.

You spun around to face him, heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his wrath to rain down upon you. You calculated the distance to the street, wondering if you might still be able to outrun him, when he suddenly closed the distance between you, shutting the door with a gentle push.

As he stared into your eyes, he spoke again in a much softer voice. “I misjudged you."

You held your breath realizing how close he stood, the heat radiating off his body into yours. Transfixed by the intensity of his bright, blue eyes, you couldn’t help but stare back at him. The anxious flutter you felt in your stomach intensified as you waited to hear what he thought he knew about you.

“What you did for Ada last night was…” he looked away for a moment as he tried to find the words to express the gratitude he felt upon hearing of Ada’s difficult labor and delivery. “Well, my sister and nephew are alive because of you. You could have gone with the Lees, but you stayed here,” he said, emphasizing the last part. You realized he was recognizing the loyalty in your decision, though for you it had been a matter of common decency.

“Thank you,” he added hesitantly and you could tell from the way he said it, he didn’t make a habit of ingratiating himself to others.

“I only did what I thought was right,” you said, averting your eyes to the floorboards.

One look at your tense posture and Tommy took a step back to give you air. He gestured toward the table as he asked, “Will you sit with me?” You nodded slowly, crossing to join him at the kitchen table. Tommy took a seat and lit a cigarette, leaning back and tilting his head as he searched the ceiling through the rings of smoke. Then the words tumbled forth, breaking the awkward silence unexpectedly.

“About that night in the stable… I brought you here to look after my family and I had to know I could trust you. Charlie thought you might have put a spell on the horse and for a moment I believed him.” Sitting up and looking you in the eye he added, “But when I asked you for the truth, I could tell by your reaction that it wasn’t your doing.”

Your eyes grew wide at his confession. You hadn’t expected him to speak of it ever again and the thought of him bringing it up now made you shudder. With a dismissive air and bitter tone you pushed it away saying, “M used to it. No one trusts gypsies.” You hugged your arms around your body to still your trembling limbs, hoping Tommy would’t recognize weakness in you.

“It’s not right though,” he said looking you in the eye. “I should never have…”

“No, you shouldn’t, you bastard” you interjected, jaw firmly set at the mention of his cruel treatment.

Tommy sucked his teeth as he flicked ash into a mug, giving your jab a moment to wash over him before responding. “I suppose I deserve that, but I want to make amends. Can we start fresh?” Tommy asked, blue eyes searching yours intently.

“Yes, I think so,” you agreed reluctantly, unsure how this turn of events had happened.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Because I’d like to invite you to have a seat at the next family meeting.”

Your head was still swimming with Tommy’s apology so you weren’t quite sure you heard correctly. “What? When?” you sputtered.

“Today, we have to go on the offensive now that the Lees have struck a blow and you’re our best hope of understanding their way of thinking,” Tommy explained.

You touched the bruise on the right side of your face that was turning to a dark shade of purple, thinking of how your sister was one of them by now. What would your scheming do to her, you wondered?

While you were lost in thought, Tommy leaned forward to examine your swollen wrist and you cried out at his touch. He lifted your hand and moved it carefully to see if there were any broken bones, a skill he’d learned during the war while attending to his men. Nodding thoughtfully he replied, “You’ve got a sprain. You should let me wrap it.”

“Alright,” you agreed, watching as Tommy fetched a bandage and efficiently went about his work, a fresh cigarette hanging from his lower lip. His touch was surprisingly gentle and your mind wandered to the times you’d watched him with the horses. You recalled how they’d responded to him without the use of a whip, only the sound of his voice over the noise of the scrap metal yard. You couldn’t deny that there was something about his presence in this moment that you found calming.

The roughness of his voice cut the silence as he spoke for the first time since he began tending to you. “I’ll be off to John’s now,” he said with a nod as he stamped out his smoke and before you could ask anything more he was gone, leaving you in quiet contemplation of your new role within the family and everything you thought you knew about Tommy.

————————————-

“Open up!” A voice bellowed out before John’s front door swung open, footsteps falling hard and fast on the stairs leading to the bedroom.

John sat up quickly, pulling the duvet over his naked body before reaching for his revolver on the nightstand. Tommy burst in with John cursing, “Fuck, Tommy! When will you learn to knock?”

“When will you learn to lock your bloody door? The Lees could still be in town for all we know,” Tommy scolded.

As the brothers argued, the woman beside John began to stir at the sound of their shouting. As she rolled over to face John, Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he caught sight of the woman’s familiar dark curls. John covered her quickly though he knew Tommy had already spied his secretary.

John tossed his gun onto the bedside table as he waved his brother off. “Alright, that’s enough! Get out!”

“Fine, but get dressed quickly. There’s business to discuss,” Tommy said, turning to leave. Then hesitating for a moment he called over his shoulder, “Lizzie, I want you at work by nine!”

She inhaled a sharp breath beneath the covers, embarrassed at being caught in bed with the boss’s younger brother. She’d gone to the Garrison to celebrate the new baby with everyone else from the office, but it was Tommy she’d been after. John just happened to be the brother who stumbled into the snug first.

After donning her dress and shoes, Lizzie leaned over with a warm smile and gave John a tender goodbye kiss. His head pounding from the hangover, he gave her only a sliver of affection in return, the reality of what he’d done hitting him full force. When he closed his eyes the only person he could see was you.

“I’ll be going, but I’d like to do this again. You never call me anymore,” she said biting her lip. Pulling back to study him she noticed John’s baby blue eyes didn’t dance with light as they had the night before.

“Listen, Lizzie…” he began, but Tommy interrupted, calling to him from downstairs. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” he said and she nodded cheerfully before pulling on her heels and clicking down the hall.

By the time John joined Tommy in the kitchen, Tommy was pacing like a wild animal. “Where the fuck were you yesterday, eh?” he asked, pointing a finger at his brother.

John rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head slightly. He couldn’t think clearly. What had happened? Before he had time to reply, Tommy was stalking toward him angrily. “The betting shop was robbed by the Lees. Y/n and Ada could have been killed because you left your post, John!”

“Oh, fuck off, Tommy!” John replied. “This is not my fault! How was I meant to do collections for Arthur and run the shop? Scudboat was there anyhow,” he asserted, pulling his suspenders up with an annoyed roll of his neck.

“Except he wasn’t. He went to Charlie’s yard for the arrival of the new shipment which is why you were supposed to have been back by four!” Tommy said, slamming the kitchen table with his palm for emphasis. Running a hand through his hair he shook his head muttering, “You never fucking listen.”

John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, another vision of you suddenly dancing across his eyelids. He’d noticed a deep red mark on your cheek and how you winced when Ada put too much pressure on your hand, but you’d both been so consumed with Ada’s labor. You’d been steadfast delivering the baby, but that was how you were when you were scared, carrying on despite the fear. John’s head shot up as he asked, “Y/n? How is she?”

Tommy let out a heavy sigh as he realized he was finally getting through to his brother, plopping down in a chair he replied, “She has some bruises and a sprained wrist. She was lucky this time, brother, but the danger will increase. The Lees know she gave us information about their operation. They took their money, but now they want blood,” Tommy said ominously.

John nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t let his concentration lapse again. You were too important and he was determined to do everything in his power to protect you this time. He only needed to bring you home.

———————————————-

The family assembled in the betting shop without noticing you hovering in the corner, feeling woefully out of place. Polly and Arthur were already seated, talking quietly as Polly smoked her clove cigarettes. Lizzie sat with pencil and paper in hand to take notes if necessary, but she didn’t appear nearly as concerned as the others. In fact, she was positively radiant, as though she couldn't stop smiling. You wondered what she had to be so cheerful about, when Isaiah appeared in the doorway, remarking to her, “Looks as though someone had a good night.”

“You know, John,” Lizzie replied with a giggle. Your heart stopped as you watched her bite her lip seductively, wondering what she meant by that.

Moving to the kitchen to help yourself to a cup of tea, Isaiah sauntered in behind you, clearing his throat to announce his presence. “Why didn’t you come to the Garrison last night?” he asked, leaning against the cupboards with a casual charm he directed at most ladies.

“I was tired. Delivering a baby will do that,” you replied with a smile.

“Of course. John said you were brilliant,” Isaiah complimented you as he removed his cap and smoothed his hair.

“Isaiah, was Lizzie with you and John last night?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

A wide grin spread across Isaiah’s face as he accepted the mug of tea you offered exclaiming, “Yeah, for a bit. Then they told me to piss off. I mean, you know how they are.”

“N-no, I don’t,” you stuttered, hands beginning to tremble around your cup.

“Those two can’t keep their hands off each other! It’s been that way since the war ended. John used to blind her other customers just so he could see her more often,” he said with a laugh. When Isaiah observed your blank expression he continued saying, “You know what Lizzie used to do, don’t you?”

Shaking your head, you felt your stomach drop and your mouth go dry as he explained their arrangement. Apparently John had been paying her for sex for years. The words stabbed into you as you held yourself up against the cupboards, willing your face not to betray your tender heart in front of a blinder.

But the terrible feeling of betrayal was overwhelming as you remembered Katie’s words about her father and his whores. You thought John had feelings for you, but clearly you’d been wrong. The pit in your stomach grew as you relived the kiss you shared the night before outside Polly’s house. He must have sensed your hesitation and gone back to someone more experienced and familiar. You felt another twist of the knife as you wondered if he ever wanted you. His brother had forced him to take you in after all and suddenly you felt terribly foolish. Worried your legs might give out at any moment, you excused yourself to take a seat at the table.

The pain only worsened as Lizzie turned to address you with an air of worldly sophistication. “Y/n, it was kind of you to leave John and me last night. One day you’ll see how important it is that a man and a woman have their privacy. I know John appreciates it,” she said with a wink and a knowing smile. As heat seeped into your cheeks with the overwhelming feeling of humiliation, it was almost more than you could bare. Did everyone know John saw you as a child who wasn’t worthy of his attention?

Soon Tommy and John arrived, taking their seats at the table and you found yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you tried to avoid John’s gaze.

As Tommy called the meeting to order you noticed all eyes on you, making you painfully aware that as a non blood relative nor a blinder, you shouldn’t be there. Tommy quickly put everyone’s fears to rest, making it known that he had asked you to be his adviser and no one dared go against Tommy.

The meeting progressed quickly after that with John proposing an all out war against the Lees. He wanted to see them all cut to ribbons and you could tell by the dangerous gleam in his eye he was more than capable. Lizzie gave him a nod of approval from across the table and your blood boiled at the thought of them discussing strategy together, plotting and scheming as they lay tangled between the sheets. You were past the point of tears by now, coiling your hands into fists below the table.

While no one else came forward with a different thought right away, Arthur quickly agreed to John’s plan. Not one for ideas himself, he went along with the quickest method of handling enemies.

However, Polly was next to speak and interjected reason before the men could become too blood hungry. “This all began because of greed, Thomas. If we propose to share our contacts with Erasmus and thus the earnings, it might convince them to stop trying to kill us.” You could see Polly favored peace above all else, but you knew Tommy would never settle for half his take.

Then the idea came to you, born of resentment and retaliation, but an age old solution that would work nonetheless. You knew how to achieve peace if only you could convince your aunt and Tommy.

“There’s another way, but it requires discussion with an elder, my aunt, Zilpha,” you proposed, glancing up at Tommy.

“She’ll see me after everything that’s happened?” Tommy asked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

“No, but she’ll see me,” you promised him. You could see the wheels in his mind turning as he pondered what you might say to your aunt. If he truly trusted you, he would agree to let you speak on their behalf, however.

With a small nod he agreed. “Alright, I’ll take you tomorrow,” Tommy said. “You’d better get some rest.” And with that, he left everyone in stunned silence, their fate in your hands.

As everyone filed out of the room, John remained, leaning on a desk. When you attempted to walk past, he stopped you, reaching out to capture your arm. “Y/n, wait,” he called out.

Your eyebrows shot up at his request, unsure why he hadn’t dashed out after Lizzie. It seemed her company was what he craved now so why was he here waiting for you? “What is it, John?” you asked, voice tinged with irritation.

“I wanted to see how you are,” he said, looking you over with what appeared to be genuine concern. His opposite hand traced the bandage that covered your wrist, eyes trained on your injury as though he felt the pain concealed beneath it.

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to break away, but John held you to him.

Reaching up to caress your bruised cheek he spoke earnestly, “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I should have been at the shop. If I had been, none of this would have happened.”

“Well you can’t change it now,” you replied, locking eyes with him, wanting to scream at him about Lizzie, but knowing it wouldn’t help.

“Let me at least try to make it up to you,” John pleaded, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “Come home,” he suggested in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

“Why?” you asked, snatching your hand away.

The biting tone had obviously hurt John, a wounded look crossing his face immediately as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. “Because…because the children and I need you,” he reasoned, furrowing his brow. He’d never been good with words, but he hoped you would hear how much he cared for you with that simple phrase.

The words pricked the hairs at the back of your neck, confirming what you already suspected. There was no love there, only a life of convenience. Biting your cheek to keep from crying, you sucked in a quick breath before replying, “I’m sorry, John, but I’m needed elsewhere at the moment.” You turned on your heel and disappeared into the house.

—————————————-

You spent another night at Polly’s, too upset to return to John’s. When you closed the bedroom door before having your dinner, Tommy urged the others not to pry into the cause of your sudden mood change. He explained there was a long drive ahead of you in the morning and reasoned you must be anxious at the thought of returning to a camp full of angry relatives.

As you drove to the Lee camp in comfortable silence, you were relieved that Tommy wasn’t the curious sort. However, you knew he deserved to hear what you intended on proposing to your aunt so you began explaining your plan for ushering in peace between the two families. While you expected him to question it a bit more, he only chain smoked as he kept his eyes trained on the road. When you’d finished, you swore you heard a low hum of approval emanate from his pursed lips, though you weren’t entirely sure from his stoic expression.

There was no time for doubt in any case as the car jerked to a halt. You exited your side cautiously, eyes scanning the horizon to find men with rifles stood at attention above you. “Slowly now,” Tommy advised as he stooped to gather a stick and dug into his pocket for a white handkerchief to tie at the top. As he walked up the dirt road toward the vardos circled on the ridge, he waved the makeshift flag. You allowed him to lead until he leaned toward you to whisper, “You’re sure you still want to do this? What of your future, eh?” It was the first he had mentioned you in any of the plans and you swallowed harshly at his insinuation that your fate mattered either way.

“Let me worry about that,” you replied stubbornly, marching ahead. Tommy wanted to laugh at your determination, but thought better of it considering the circumstances. He shook his head as he followed after you, admiration for your courage swelling in his throat.

Zilpha greeted you with a wary expression upon your approach, face as dark and stormy as the clouds overhead threatening rain. Standing at the doorway of her vardo, she refused to descend until you had both been searched for weapons. Although you understood her hesitation, it stung to be treated as a traitor when you still held love for your family.

When she was satisfied you weren’t there to harm her, she allowed you to ascend the steps and you breathed a sigh of relief when she extended a wrinkled hand to you, pulling you inside.

Despite having convinced her of your own good intentions, Tommy was made to wait outside. You could tell from her knitted brow, he would never gain her full approval and you knew you would have to work hard to sell his good points.

After the preamble of commenting on your thin frame and offering up a hearty stew, Zilpha asked why you had come and you wasted no time with your appeal.

“He’s a smart man, aunt. But he needs strong men,” you explained.

“For what?” she asked harshly, turning to face you with such force, her jewelry crashed together creating a tinny clinking that echoed out like a warning.

“Protection for his growing business. They get the winner in one of every three races before the race even starts. No need for chalks or rafflers. It’s a certainty,” you promised her, believing in Tommy’s operations so that she would have faith as well.

“It sounds like this Shelby man’s got his hooks in ya,” she said, eyeing you suspiciously.

You bristled at her assumptions, holding your head high. “No Shelby has me, aunt. In fact, I have a unique proposal for you to end the war between you and them.”

“And what might that be?” she said, leaning forward elbows on her knees to hear you better.

“Rumors say Erasmus’s cousin Esme has been running wild. If I could promise a good husband for her, would you give Tommy soldiers? If you do, this alliance will make you a rich woman,” you promised.

Zilpha thought for a moment, recalling the trouble she’d had finding a suitable groom to take on the headstrong young woman.

“And what man do you suggest?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Tommy’s younger brother, John Shelby,” you said, hoping she didn’t notice the way your voice wavered as you said his name. She hadn’t, too preoccupied by your talk of fortune. Without hesitation, she extended a hand in agreement.

As you both emerged, Tommy searched your face for a sign that the negotiations had been a success. You gave him a small nod and he turned to Zilpha. “He’ll do then?” Tommy asked.

“Bring him round in a fortnight and it will be done,” Zilpha proclaimed.

The drive back to Small Heath was cloaked in thick silence as you looked out the passenger window. Exhaustion from the long day was beginning to take hold of you, but something wouldn’t let you give in to the need for rest. Although you hoped your plan of revenge might heal your broken heart, the ache only grew stronger. You didn’t yet know it, but regret would soon take hold and there would be nothing you could do to reverse it.

——————————————

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby #John Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby x you #John Shelby x y/n

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dangermousie · 8 months

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Pre-Joseon Sageuks: a Biased and Incomplete List

So, as promised way earlier, a post on pre-Joseon sageuks that I’ve either watched or plan to watch so am aware of them. I am sure there are others but here is what I got. Obviously my takes on them are subjective blah blah blah.

Jumong - arguably the Daddy of all Traditional Sageuks, this one ran for over 80 episodes and had insane ratings. It follows the rise of the mythical founder of Gogureyo tho it takes fantastical elements of his story and changes them for historically plausible ones. It’s very long and very meaty and politics/battle heavy and has a large cast of complex characters (including pretty nifty women and a LGBTQ supporting OTP) but it is anchored by the incredible performance of Song Il Gook as the titular character as he slowly but believably grows from nothing to a hero if at the cost of losing his marriage.

The King of Tears Lee Bang Won - this is basically a half and half beast as (you can tell by the title), it’s set in the last days of Goryeo and early days of Joseon. The time period covered is the same as in My Country and Six Flying Dragons, but this is the most traditional take of them all, even more so than 6FD. Not a single pretty face in the cast (tho Joo Sang Wook is a mighty fine man, emphasis on “man”), this is for the real fans of traditional sageuks. I enjoyed it a lot but if you want to check out pre-Joseon sageuks but have mainly watched youth sageuk stuff before, you should probably start with another drama on this list.

The Great Seer - set in the reign of King Gongmin, the last proper king of Goryeo (his son King U is technically the very last but there are questions as to his status), this is for those of you who want to watch Ji Sang in a sageuk. It’s centered around seers but don’t expect mysticism, this knuckles down to politics.

Shin Don - hi there, another story set in the reign of King Gongmin! From the title, you can tel it centers heavily on the powerful monk who ruled for the King at one point. This has been on my to-watch list forever because this appears to devote a decent chunk of its time to Gongmin X Noguk and I am dying for a proper drama for those two. This is from 2005 so if you do watch, keep that in mind in terms of visuals etc. That cast is lit!

Bicheonmu - this is sort of cheating because it’s pretty much set in China but it involves Koreans so. It’s a drama take on the same story told in a pretty awesome movie. Tragic love, battles, young Joo Jin Moo etc. i am very fond of it. This said, find and watch the Chinese version, Korean one was shredded.

The Iron Empress/Empress Cheon Chu - set in Goryeo, this was another of women ruler centric dramas that had a mini popularity peak in late 00s/early 10s (a trend I wish continued.) it got overshadowed by Queen Seonduk but by all accounts is a solid drama. It’s on my list but I haven’t watched it yet.

The King’s Daughter, Soo Baek Hyang - by the writer of The Rebel and My Dearest. Have I got your attention? Another woman centric ruler tale set in Baekje. Yes, there is a love story. That cast is great, to boot. I have started and liked what I’ve seen but got sidetracked. Need to get back to it. Before you look at the ep number and faint seeing the number 108, keep in mind that the eps are half an hour long so it’s an equivalent of a normal 54 ep sageuk so if you can watch eg Empress Ki, you are good with this.

My Country: The New Age - Lee Bang Won but make it gay. OK, I kid, sort of (not really) but this is smart and passionate and heartbreaking. If you want a wide scope or lots of politics, probably not a take for you (Six Flying Dragons is RIGHT there), but if you want an intense, emotional tale, come right in!

Six Flying Dragons - to me, this is THE drama about Lee Bang Won. It’s smart and emotional, deals with politics and has heart. It has a large cast of characters I got invested in, OTPs that will blow your mind etc etc.

Faith/The Great Doctor - if you are a fan of old school shoujo like Red River, Basara or Fushigi Yuugi, this or Moon Lovers are your best bet on this list. A time traveling tale with other fantasy elements about a modern day plastic surgeon who ends up being kidnapped into Goryeo during the early days of King Gongmin’s (hi!) reign by a tormented, oath bound warrior played by Lee Min Ho at his hottest (and playing historical General Choi Young. Do RPS at your pleasure), this one is one of my all time favorites.

Seodonyo/Ballad of Seo Dong - I am actually currently watching this one tho I haven’t been posting about it. Set in both Baekje and Silla, this is an angsty love story with a side of politics. It’s filmed in 2005 and looks accordingly but if you don’t mind dated visuals, this is pretty great!

Emperor of the Sea - set in Silla and Tang, this was a huge hit and deservedly so. Our protag is a slave and gladiator and a great naval hero. This is grim and smart and epic. It’s from 2004 so once again, if dated visuals are no-go, skip, but if you want a great story and performances, this has your name on it.

The Kingdom of the Winds - an epic cursed prince narrative, our ML (Song Il Gook at his sexiest) rises from abandoned prince and slave and abused assassin to general, royal and king, sparing time for an angsty delicious love story with an enemy princess. This has serious sageuk bits AND the best shoujo tropes in the business, plus enough whump to keep anyone happy.

Gye Baek - Lee Seo Jin, another sageuk stalwart, stars as the title character in this tale of a Baekje commoner, war slave and general. This is grim but glorious.

Soldier/God of War - this is a traditional war-centric sageuk and grim as hell. Another slave to general tale.

King Geun Chu Go - this is on my watch list; it’s about a warrior king of Baekje. Haven’t seen it but heard good things.

Ja Myung Go - smart and unrelentingly tragic, featuring Jang Ryeo Won and Jung Kyung Ho as doomed lovers and Park Min Young in an evil role, this is great and has deeply flawed characters in the very definition of doomed by the narrative tale.

Arthdal Chronicles - this is obviously a fantasy but the tale of prophesied twins, magical priestess, wars and mysticism is clearly set in a pre-Joseon in terms of aesthetics world.

Alchemy of Souls - like Arthdal this is pure fantasy but also like Arthdal, a lot of its styling is pre-Joseon so on this list it goes.

Moon Lovers/Scarlet Heart Ryeo - ok I think if people have heard of only one drama on this very long list, it’s probably this one. Modern time traveling heroine ending up during the reign of Goryeo’s King Taejo, in the middle of his sons’ fight for the throne, having an epic but doomed romance with shoujo catnip tortured bad boy Lee Jun Ki.

Shine or Go Crazy - if you want a more historical take on Moon Lovers succession fight but still with plenty of hotness, angst and doomed romance, come right in. This baby stars Jang Hyuk, so you know it’s bound to be good. I actually started it and enjoyed it but got sidetracked. Need to get back to it. Fun fact: while Moon Lovers was hugely popular internationally, domestically Shine or Go Crazy (they aired around the same time), did much better.

The Legend/The First King’s Four Gods - for a long time this was my favorite kdrama of all time and is still probably in my top 10. Ignore the odd first episode, the rest is perfection. Expensive and wonderfully written, this was Bae Yong Joon’s last drama before he retired to rest on his pile of money (if you are young, you probably don’t remember what a big deal he was, bigger than all the Hallyu stars nowadays put together. He basically was singlehandedly supporting the kdrama industry at one point), but what a worthy way to go out. It’s an epic Goguryeo fantasy tale of a prophesied prince coming into his own, with such amazing characters and relationships and OTPs and battles and points about destiny versus free will. It is everything and I kinda want to rewatch now.

The Blade and The Petal/Sword and Flower - ostensibly a star-crossed Gogureyo love story, this really is more about politics. It’s a mixed bag. The visuals are insane but Uhm Tae Woong, while always solid in modern dramas, is out of place in a sageuk (in QSD Kim Nam Gil stole his thunder; there is nobody to do so here but that doesn’t help him.)

Queen Seon Duk - probably the most famous entrant into female power sageuks, this was a mad hit and centered on the titular character’s rise to power and fight for the same with her female nemesis Mishil. If you want love stories, angsty fighter Bidam propelled Kim Nam Gil to stardom as he stole the leading man mantle from Uhm Tae Woong.

Empress Ki - currently rewatching this. It’s set in the waning days of Goryeo but takes place mainly in Yuan. Still, the FL is Korean and a lot of the story revolves around one of her suitors’, a deposed Korean king, attempts to get his land back. As you can tell by my rabid posts, this is a great drama - politics, romance (I ship FL and the Yuan emperor like mad), murder, dysfunction and everything good.

Hwarang - it’s so brain dead it might as well be a brain-eating amoeba in drama form but it did give us both Park Hyung Sik and Park Seo Joon before they made it big in drama world. It’s terrible tho, stay away.

River where the Moon Rises - I have such a love/hate relationship with this drama - I loved the beginning, with our tormented assassin heroine slowly being warmed by the loyal rustic ML with his own trauma. And then Ji Soo’s bullying scandal happened and he was replaced by Na In Woo, aka the actor I like least from any country in all my close to two decades of watching dramas. I tried but I simply couldn’t and I am still mad. This said, if you don’t share my NIW allergy, it’s probably worth a watch.

The Great King’s Dream - if you liked QSD and can’t get enough of the period but want an even more traditional tale, you can do worse than this drama. I liked what I saw but this baby is 70 eps and lacks Bidam so I peaced out. Maybe I will get back to it sometime, but probably not.

Jeong Do Jeon - as you can tell by the title, centers on JDJ and the last days of Goryeo. Not really my bag (time period been done plenty in other dramas and I don’t have that much interest in JDJ) but supposed to be solid.

My Only Love Song - a short silly mess but still probably better than River (which tells the same story) because it doesn’t have NIW.

King Gwanggaeto the Great - 92 eps. I can’t!

The King Loves - delicious love triangle (that goes ALL ways), angst, prettiness, a side of bodyguard romance. What’s not to love in this Goryeo tale?

ETA: this post was so long that when I tried to tag every drama I mentioned, tumblr told me you hit the tag limit of 30 tags no more tags for you. Oh well, sorry dramas that ended up I tagged!

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likeadevils · 3 months

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is there a specific order you like to listen to the red vault tracks in? i’ve been thinking about this a lot ever since 1989 tv came out because the 1989 vault tracks tell such a cohesive story so i’ve been trying to figure out how to do that with the red vault

YES ITS LIKE. THE ALBUM TO REARRANGE FOR ME I GENUINELY HAVENT LISTENED TO THE ORIGINAL TRACKLIST IN YEARS NOW

i think i’ve run through it before but here’s my thoughts on the mains tracklist

state of grace: perfect opener no notes

22: this is and holy ground can switch for me, i think either makes a fantastic track two, but it’s hard to pass up 22 track 2. also i like how the second song and the second to last song parallel each other

treacherous: building off of 22’s “you look like bad news, i gotta have you”

i knew you were trouble: it’s the obvious mirror of treacherous, and also i think it’s important to establish the emotion->exact opposite emotion flip of the tracklist, and treacherous and ikywt are a really obvious example of that

all too well: i mean what else can you choose. also it’s a good flip of ikywt because it’s all the moments where it DIDN'T feel like trouble

wanegbt: “i remember it all too well 😔” -> “I REMEMBER WHEN WE BROKE UP 😡🙄” is just an insane whiplash. ALSO track sixes are such a hard landing to stick and can easily be overshadowed by the track five, and having a song that’s already been released kinda lets the song simultaneously have its moment beforehand and let you kinda check out on your first listen through while you recover from atw

come back be here: i think cbbh really just deserves a main album slot, mostly cause it deserved to be played on tour, but i also think it’s a great whiplash from wanegbt and a great lead in to…

the last time: it takes the more crush-focused aspects of cbbh and plays them out to the bitter end, just that cycle of always leaving and coming back and leaving again. also it’s the end of the first half of the album

red: it’s a great pick me up in the middle of three mellow songs, also i can’t separate this from run which i can’t separate from sad beautiful tragic and i can’t put sad beautiful tragic right before all too well so it needs to be further down the tracklist

run: “loving him was like driving a new maserati down a dead end street” -> “give me the keys, i’ll bring the car back around” makes me go CRAZY

sad beautiful tragic: THE AMOUNT OF PARALLELS WITH RUN IS INSAAAAAAAANE

holy ground: again this is a bit of a floater like i could see an argument for this being track two. and the argument is it goes hard at the start of the red tour

better man: this just needs to be by the end of the album for me. it feels like the start of the summary, wrapping up what we’ve learned and starting the hard work of moving on that the last few tracks will continue

i bet you think about me: that first verse really stretching out the betterrrrr’s after better man is funny. also, after an album of one sided pining in one way or another, it’s just like hey. fuck you. also, at first it kinda bugged me how the last few tracks starts at 4am, then 3am, then the middle of the night, but then i started seeing them as just slowly losing less and less sleep over it, which i kinda love now

nothing new: here is the damage i am left with. even if i move on from this relationship, here is the mindset that will whisper in the back of my mind forever— that i am valuable because of my youth, that my happiness is mockable and my sadness is quaint. this is the thing that led me to the relationship and this is the thing that i will be left with after it

begin again: and then… begin again. choosing happiness, choosing maturity, choosing childlike joy. like, you all know it’s an amazing closer, but after nothing new it just sings

+ forever winter: i think this does add important context to her general mental state? like 22 mentions how everyone is miserable, but really focuses on the highs of being 22. forever winter adds to it, how your peer group is falling apart and even when you are at your worst, you are being someone else's shoulder to lean on. it's not Needed to tell the story, but it is a good bonus.

+ starlight: more good context, especially in taylor's personal life-- as far as i can tell, this is the first song she wrote for red that Wasn't about crash and burn heartbreak, and it really kicked into high gear an obsession with vintage fashion and mid century celebrities that she ended up building part of her personality around. she's not just trying to find her old self again, she's building a new one

+babe: what am i supposed to do, not end the album with this is the last time i'll ever call you babe?

+ state of grace (acoustic), the red demo, and all too well (ten minute version) to get the tracklist to 22 and also fun bts context!

#asks*#claire's versions*

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russenoire · 9 months

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in response to this post:

ONE-sensei is a bit of a troll, not gonna lie.

but... i actually like this ending, at least for comedy's sake. the stark juxtaposition of

'boy gets hit by a truck and his unexamined jungian shadow self flattens a city before he finally makes peace with it'

with

'and everything was just fine six months later'

is funnier than spelling out exactly how we get from point A to point B, because we KNOW — as the audience — that it wasn't 'just fine'. after everything we saw, how could it be?

subverted expectations underpin a lot of comedy, even dark comedy, especially absurdist comedy. MP100 is practically built on both. this story wrings a lot of humor out of sad, if not tragic, situations: witness shigeo's 'who told you you could pass out?!' after his home has been reduced to kindling. or ritsu's admission that he only recently stopped crying himself to sleep at night over his inability to bend spoons like his big brother. while he's letting shigeo know just how much he supposedly hates him in that alley.

not expanding upon the real-life consequences of said city-flattening is funny precisely because dropping 'i wrecked my hometown after nearly dying in a car accident on the way to ask out my crush when i was a teenager' in a conversation and just... leaving it there? would be fucking horrifying in real life. here, in the elastic magical-realist context of MP100, it's more darkly absurd than anything else...

more to your point, OP: in this particular series, ONE-sensei tells so much of this story by implication. the answers to some of your questions are in the text, only... alluded to.

this might get long. bear with me:

the fact that joseph from the government exists? and that he's an esper working in secret? implies that the knowledge of destructive espers might need to be concealed from the public at large, perhaps to prevent wide-scale panic or ostracism of espers themselves. i doubt the government was forthright with its citizens about the confession arc disaster or the actual cause, for the same reasons.

that suzuki's broadcast-hijacking world domination announcement is met with public disdain and ridicule, especially over social media? outside of our cast, no one actually takes his threat seriously until it happens. reigen's trash-talking claw's seventh division down to earth also shows how little respect espers who don't make themselves useful to society actually get here. he is, after all, just another member of the public.

that reigen agrees to take on haruaki amakusa as a client after the world domination arc in part because he's worried about losing business? people have begun to move away from seasoning city in the aftermath; whatever the threat amakusa's hyakki present, neutralizing them as soon as possible is best for reigen's continued financial health. i can see even more residents deciding they've had enough and leaving after shigeo's last brush with death. would you stay?

how many people know shigeo is connected to reigen, apart from the people they both know? out of his own inflated and fragile ego, reigen presents himself as a sole proprietor on his website; it doesn't seem his business or its reputation would be directly affected at all.

and the injuries caused? possible deaths? we get a taste: early on in chapter 100, several people are trapped and unable to move in a 地盤沈下 (jibánchinka, literally: 'land subsidence', which can apply to a sinkhole, a landslide...) shigeo has left in his wake. we only find out because a cop is being briefed on this and its cause while trying to detain the suspect for questioning.

but like all other bodily harm caused in this story, we aren't treated to the fallout. did the elderly ishiguro survive shou plowing him into the earth? did miyagawa die after teruki flipped his barrier onto him and broiled him in his own flames? did those high school bully boys live after shigeo cracked their heads open on the pavement like eggs? like, these are good questions. (i'm inclined to believe that all these people died, but many would call me harsh for saying that about an otherwise kind story. we never see them again, either way.)

shigeo actually has a healing factor of sorts; his jungian shadow self keeps plucking him from death's arms. we have no way of knowing if this is true for anyone else, because that isn't the story ONE wanted to tell. if nothing else, the mangaka's lack of desire to engage with this question of lethal consequences is at least consistent across MP100.

any questions that aren't answered either directly or that can't be answered by easy extrapolation can foster continued engagement with the material.

for example: we don't know what shigeo's parents think about much of anything in this story, besides how little they expect from him and how ritsu sets a standard they feel shigeo should live up to. this boy goes through hell multiple times and is never shown to confide in either of his parents about it, instead suffering in silence for some time until he finds someone he feels safe enough to talk to. all this gives me the distinct impression that shigeo just isn't that close to his mother or his father. i can understand why. it's actually kind of sad, even as readers' frustrated expectations of real-life parental involvement with — and confusion over — his and his brother's shenanigans also generate some dark humor.

this also establishes a precedent: since we never check in with them, by the time the confession arc rolls around, their opinion hardly matters. (but i'm sure someone has written a fic fleshing that out! i'm somewhat curious myself.)

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