#bereavement is tough

[mimble-sparklepudding]

The poems and platitudes of wiser men. Musings on sadness and loss... Studied and memorised...and meaningless in the moment.

#grief and loss #ffxiv #ain't that the truth #bereavement is tough #endwalker spoilers #kind of #urianger augurelt #ff14 ffxiv

[scoobysnakz]

you are the epitome of kindness, as sweet as sugar and as adorable as newborn kittens playing with a ball of yarn. and he’s cruel, meaner than mean, brass and unloving.

yet when it comes to you, fuck, when it comes to you butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

the moment you appear his entire “tough guy” facade (as you so innocently put it while scolding him for being a brute) immediately fades away.

“¿Que te pasa?” Miguel chides dryly, index finger and thumb pinching his nose bridge. “how hard is it to do your job, hmm? how is it you manage to mess up the simplest things?”

his dark, almost curls fall around his face, framing his chiseled features in an almost angelic way while he angrily scolds the cowering spider-person.

there’s a vein throbbing on the side of his neck, standing out against his golden skin in its deep blue colour. it’s hard to miss and unfortunately for the already terrified recruit- Miguel doesn’t like that.

he clicks his taloned fingers in front of his face while baring his sharp canines. “my face is here!” miguel fumes, voice louder than ever.

“why is it so hard for you to-“ Miguel’s angry rant is cut short by the low creak of the door. his gaze instantly softens as he takes in your silhouette that’s illuminated by faint yellow lights.

it’s as if time stands still. all he can see is you as you shuffle into his office, not even bothering to knock or announce yourself but he doesn’t care. you look as pretty as ever with that sweet smile on your face and lunch in your hands.

his angry snarl transforms into a lovesick grin, his narrowed eyes widen with compassion, his folded arms open up for you to walk into.

“Mi chica dulce,” is the first thing he says to you.

miguel steps away from the recruit and over to you before taking the brown, paper bags from your hands.

you catch a glimpse of the pulsating vein on his neck and your brow automatically furrows. “was he shouting at you?” your tone is full of disappointment as you look between them and Miguel. “Miguel, were you shouting at them?”

“should i go?” the recruit offers awkwardly.

you look over at them, lips falling into a pout that Miguel knows he should interpret as annoyance but he can’t see past how adorable it makes you look.

there’s a deafening silence between the three of you. miguel is just staring at you, love struck and oblivious to your scolding while the recruit’s mouth opens and closes like a goldfish.

“i wouldn’t say shouting, maybe scolding or reprimanding but never shouting,” miguel urges while looking at the recruit for support.

by now, the poor recruit is completely bewildered. they’ve just been getting the berating of a lifetime and now the beast of a man who has been delivering said bereavement is asking for their help so he isn’t caught out.

you shoot miguel a look that automatically shuts him up. “did he shout at you?” you press on, attention diverting to them.

they gulp silently before shaking their head. “i’ll be off then,” they mutter before racing off, leaving you and miguel alone.

“dame un beso,” he coos.

his large arms pull you close to him, your head pushed against his chest. it’s tempting to stay there, safe and warm in his embrace but you pull away anyway, hands firmly placed on his lower abdomen.

Miguel looks down at you, off-white lights shining through the gaps of his dark curls forming a makeshift halo. The apologetic smile on his face is enough to make your stomach form knots.

you know you shouldn't be looking at him like this, practically melting in his gaze, but the way his brow furrows and lips form an almost pout makes it impossible.

“‘m sorry, mi amor,” he apologises, still trying to pull you into a hug. “they were getting on my nerves. you know how i get, chula.”

you reach up a small hand to cup his face, spiky stubble from lack of shaving scratching at your skin. your fingers card with his chocolate locks as you angle his head down to face you.

he feels guilty now. maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so angry at the recruit, not if it made you this disappointed in him.

he mirrors your actions, hand big enough that when it comes down to cup the back of your head he can still softly thumb your full lips simultaneously.

“stop being so mean to everyone you recruit,” you murmur. “you get angry so easily.”

“tienes ojos muy bonitos,” is all he says in return.

you look so sweet right now. arm struggling to reach his head, shoes creasing as you stand on your toes. the concern in your gaze only serves to warm his heart further.

“you aren’t even listening are you?”

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #fluff #drabble #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel fluff #scoobysnakz

[djmurphy]

If Semi-Pop Zombie!Branch were to comfort a bereaved, would he say something like, "I know times are tough for you, but remember that you're not alone: you have your friends and family by your side. You'll get through this. It's gonna be okay."?

Would he say it from the heart, considering he was himself bereaved but had nobody to be there for him? Would he be able to speak in a low, comforting tone at that moment? After all, speaking in an upbeat, bouncy tone doesn't seem appropriate when speaking to someone who is in mourning.

I imagine at first,,Branch wouldn't know how to comfort someone in regards to losing a loved one. But the least he can do is listen to them as they vent. In the end, maybe he does give them encouraging words.

But by the end, his "programing" would kick in and semi-ruin the heartfelt talk, making him say something like "But I'm sure your loved one would've wanted you to stay happy! So remember to always smile!" Some might say they're nice words of encouragement, but Branch knows what those words really mean...

#dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls 2 #trolls au #trolls branch #trolls world tour #trolls #brozone #hypno pop au

[probablyhuntersmom]

Hunter in all his Thanks to Them screentime could remain calm for the most part, but it looked like he had a big emotional Band-Aid over Belos's betrayal from Hollow Mind. His best friend's sacrifice obviously ripped that Band-Aid off in the worst way possible.

In For the Future his main emotion is anger, to shield himself from bereavement, but the care and support of the group (not just from Willow) helped nudge him towards receiving love, which also meant he could connect better with his grief without being overwhelmed or what they call "flooded" (in the sense of trauma).

In Watching and Dreaming he had obviously thawed out a bit, hope pouring back into his life like faint rays of sunshine, and he could ground himself in doing what's right alongside his found family, but I view his drooping smile before the timeskip as a major clue for what his pre-timeskip struggle was gonna be like.

After all the three specials, pre-timeskip, we'd get a depressed Hunter who is the furthest from his overworked, on-the-move Golden Guard self. More so than in For the Future, we'd see greater apathy and greater extremes between the times he is numbed out, breaking down, tantrums, and having a needed cry. The hurdles even before his first palisman-carving lesson would be tough ones.

His grief shows in different ways for all of the above (right-side for the first three comparisons, left-side for the fourth one). He wouldn't be able to connect with it, experience it fully and take a good look at it, without help. As a parallel to the Isles being rebuilt, he was to undergo transformation and change.

#*Will Smith meme* here. the many flavours of Hunter #toh hunter #the owl house #toh s3 #hunter's arc

[kissmxcheek]

recommendations + my favs // 👥

big shout out & thank u to all the talented writers xx

miles morales (spiderman/prowler)

Somethin' Soft for someone Tough. @kombuuuu

lemme try @carpecaelo (THIS ONE IS SO CUTE)

in sickness & in health @fushigur0ll

in every universe @crackedpumpkin

chasing @dorkfilmz

cheesepie @ichorai (okay this one wins. fr)

none would be more art than you @carpecaelo

Miles!42 headcannons @luvjunie

Trust who? @luvjunie

Bereavement @famwhy

For the Soul @kombuuuu

12am lessons @iluvmorales

broken promises @luvjunie

duérmete @juneberrie

Been Away (Part 2) @11vr1 (i love earth 42 miles so much.)

Deflecting @kombuuuu

spider-man // peterparker

jealous!peter & homecoming dance @sacharinee

birthday gifts & lego sets @sacharinee

Worth Saving @fettuccin-e

hobie brown

open window @fabled-fiction

wound too tight @renoed (one of my favs ever) Part 2

My Nuisance @neo-nomatrix

friend to lovers @gay-dorito-dust (part 2)

Without You @hobie-enthusiast

Nowhere Else @hobie-enthusiast (heart melt)

Absence makes the heart grow fonder @fabled-fiction (BEST HOBIE)

opposites attract @mochifilm

+ pls let me know if u want to be taken off this list for any reason!!

#pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spiderman #peter parker x reader #miles morales #fic recs #ani's recs #hobie brown x reader #marvel #peter parker #would reccomend #spiderman recs

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Three Way Script

A Sarge and lil Mama fic

Warnings: rather angsty and with some strong language -but with a load of gentleness and love thrown in as is typical with this universe, please note the subjects covered here relate to infidelity and the death of an infant. Everyone herein is coping and not in a very tidy way but they’re tryin’.

Note: this is written in experimental first person view from Ann-Margret’s perspective. I’ve zero intention to vilify anyone and even had a little bit of qualms regarding using her in this at all. As is, I’m creating more of a character for her in the form of “Thumper” and her dynamic with the fictional Presley’s than any true resemblance to the lady herself. Cheers 💋

Dedicated to sweet @ab4eva who loves her hot tamale

Circa: summer of ‘63 on the set of Viva Las Vegas

It was a dark and deathly quiet quarter to four in the morning. I’d just been decked in the face by a sleepwalking Elvis Presley for trying to wake him up. Face throbbing, nerves strained from our undefined tryst, I clumsily chased him as he wandered outside, strangely stubborn in his unconscious quest for air, or space, or -her.

I didn’t know the etiquette for this, for any of it. I’d told him just that as he, a married man of such notoriety, pressed his lips against mine and told me that we had a connection.

He and I.

As if I couldn't feel it thrumming and seething and tugging between us during every scene and more concerning still, in the lulls between, in the quiet and unpretentious moments of rest when it wasn’t our characters, when it was just us. When he admitted to being gutted by the loss of his child, estranged from his ever-ebullient wife in her own bereavement, envious of his son, not even four years old, who occupied his space in her bed and took comfort from her body while he was obliged to dance and sing his way to another hit as if he wasn’t fragmented by the grief of it all.

“I thought you’d be all tough n’shit, a real firecracker.” he’d breathed with immense relief after uncovering that gooey, soft, vulnerable place inside of me that something about his grief and his hollow smirk and his lonesomeness had almost immediately unleashed in my soul. That urge to comfort, to assure him he wasn’t going out on a limb, it had me spending my days making a fool of myself for him.

Yet it seemed the price for such misplaced loyalty and pleasure was about to be extracted as I trailed him, calling out to him in vain, ignoring my aching jaw in an attempt to stall his sleepwalking, quelling the panic I felt at what must be done.

His guys didn’t know he was here with me and I wasn’t sure if I should tell them anyway, though I would have at this crucial point if I could have found or telephoned any of them. Tell them he was about to wander bare as the Lord made him into the studio lot.

I had to spare her that at least.

I had to call Graceland.

When I had entered my studio apartment earlier that evening Elvis had been sat in the kitchenette chair, twirling the landline cord around his finger, feet propped up on the Formica table, perfectly at home in my space, saying his goodbyes to a child or four. He gave me a dazzling smile as I stepped over my own threshold yet held up his finger for silence in my own space as he finished speaking with his family.

“Your phone ain’t bugged like mine is.” he had said casually by way of explanation for his entitlement to my rented room and then took me in his arms. I’d forgotten to press my point regarding privacy and rumors after that.

Now I fumbled the receiver off its hook and with all the cold, dreading heroism of a soldier launching a nuclear missile, I pushed redial.

One of the Presley cousins answered, I calculated the truth would get me where I needed fastest, so I said outright “Elvis is sleep walking on the lot and no one knows how to wake him”.

I was asked to hold and about twenty seconds later the receiver picks up again and this woman’s soft drawl comes over,

“Thumper? Is that you? Is he with you?”

Elaine was anxious. I could feel the strength of it through the phone, a visceral connection with a total stranger just by the waiver of her voice. So very anxious in that way that people who’ve been in a rash of losing things start to freak over the slightest possibility of another blow. It was the first time we’d ever spoken and yet I told her the situation as it stood, clear and concise. She knew of me -not just of Ann-Margret but of Thumper- and god knows I knew of her.

Elaine gained strength with details, demanded how long he’d been asleep and if he had his eyes open at all. With the first question I thought she was trying to trap me and get me to admit something I was more than ready to own up to. But then I realized she was just trying to triage. I gave her all the details I could tell and she gave me some suggestions.

“Make sure you duck away when you touch him or he’ll wallop you in the face, Thumper.” she warned with the surety of a veteran and her tone was so kind it took me ten whole minutes later to process the fact she had anticipated everything that had occurred and would occur. Despite that she was kind.

She was still kind after she suggested I let the dream run its course and maybe try to steer him from the gates or keep the outer door locked, and I had to tell her sheepishly he wasn’t wearing anything. Again, instead of what I was expecting she just let out a little huff and said

“Why didn’t you say? That makes things easier, you’ve got an ice pail, don’t you?”

So I ended up tossing ice at Elvis Presley’s chilled skin till he woke up and startled. Then led him back inside and when he saw the phone off the hook he got spooked and yelled at me that it wasn’t something to call the police for.

I said it was his wife instead. It was like he turned into a little boy then, he just yanked a sheet off the bed and curled into a chair at the kitchenette table and picked up the receiver.

I heard him whisper,

“Tink?”

before he waved me away and off as if this wasn’t my place that he had crashed in. But they were still softly chattin’ in a foreign sort of gibberish on the line by the time I gave up and fell asleep with the lamp on and him mumbling to his wife about his dream and asking to talk to a kid if one was awake.

He was gone when I woke up, so were his clothes.

Next I saw him, he was on set looking chipper, full face of pancake makeup disguising his exhaustion, playing cards with the boys waiting for the director to show. A quart’s worth of makeup was lathered to my own face, meticulously plastered on my left cheek five layers deep to disguise the purpling bruise he’d given me.

He acted like nothing, and I do mean nothing of any sort, had happened the night before. It was puzzling and I began to realize just how well he could compartmentalize everything. Lines and paces and dances and duets, he moved through them all that day with ease, belying the man who told me the night before he didn’t think he could keep going on like this.

‘This’ being the continuing of the smiling and dancing and grinding for all the nation to applaud, anything to market his resilience, once again having to rebound from his unsellable grief. But a child buried comes back in a man’s dreams.

“They made me choose, Annie,” he’d wept to me, “came out in their coats and said ‘which would ya like us to save, Mr. Presley?’ What was I s’posed to say to that, Thumper?” he begged me for an answer like I had an opinion on such a horrific conundrum. It’s times like these when a twenty three year old starlet isn’t sure what to say. “I can’t live without her! Can’t keep ‘em all well and happy without her, chose her. Now my baby girl’s dead.”

Her was always Elaine. And baby girl had been named Joe.

Josephine Belleaza, though her daddy couldn’t say her name, the name he’d lovingly chosen in happier times, couldn’t say it aloud without sounding strangled.

“It wouldn’t have changed a thing.” I kept insisting, I didn’t know what else to say except the truth of it, “They just ask those things to put it back on the -the- the patient.” The victim, the father, the parents. Putting those sleepless nights about choices back on his shoulders. As if a child drowned in the amniotic fluid that had once been its home and haven could be revived if the mother was cut apart to take it out. It was cruel, there never was a choice that god hadn't already made. “Wouldn’t have changed a thing. She doesn’t blame you, does she?”

“No, no never.” he’d sighed bitterly.

We talked a lot about her for a young co-star and her married leading man, laying in those twisted sheets he laid me out on, reveling in the fact I had no old memories etched on my skin, yet was soft and giving in all the ways to mimic the familiar one. It was an unfair usage, but when you’re in love you take a married man happily even if he seems as if he’s looking for more and less than your unstoried body could ever give him. A respite from things associated with dreams gone wrong, turned dark and twisted. He made me feel like a lifeline, he made me feel indispensable for him getting up each new day, he made my body rejoice and thrum from even the smallest of child play beneath the sheets, he made me fall in love with him.

And then he railed at me for calling her. I was the lifeline to get him back to her alive, sane and somewhat devoted. I was never his wife and according to him I should never have made his wife listen to his passing dalliance recount our tryst. It was unfair, I had done it to protect him but the minute the cameras stopped rolling he had cornered me and cut me down for the night before.

“You told her about us!” I accused him right back, righteous and misled all at once.

“There ain’t no us!” and he said it so easily.

That was true, I’d never met a fully grown man with such drive who found a way to make love in every possible way except the typical insertion method. I had not pressed it before, thinking it connected to his fear of pregnancy. “You told her about me being Thumper!” I clarified my complaint.

“Course I did!” he acted like I’d cracked up, “I tell her ‘bout all of ‘em, she’s accommodatin’ like that. Don’t mean she should have to have salt rubbed in the wound by talkin’ to ya. Ain’t fittin. She’s my wife!”

That stung, the categorization. There was little ole me, one of an apparent host of good time girls, and then there was her. And the fact she was his wife, that he really had his priorities straight despite his wandering eye, was a virtue lost on my love sick heart.

I was just furious and hurt.

“Did she put you up to this?” I seethed and he said no, no she hadn’t but this was just the way of things. He told Elaine about all his friends, which he considered me one, and on the flip side he kept them separated from his family life. It was traditional and tidy and archaic and we fought bitterly over it and made up in my bed.

He was gone again when I woke the next morning. But across the room in his stead was a large spray of roses he must’ve allowed in, shaped in a heart like a valentine, though the month was July. I anticipated conciliatory words in his childish scribble on the note. Instead, there in a delicate cursive was a quote, from Anna Karenina, I recognized,

“There are as many kinds of loves as there are hearts”

and down below in tiny, achingly gentle words was the sentiment:

“to a very tender young lady, for her pains and kindness to us, hope the cheek heals by the time I come and kiss it, all my thanks, -Elaine.”

———————————————————

I so hope I can crank out another of these or one for Gigi before too long, and a happier one at that, but for now I hope y’all enjoyed and thanks for all the love and questions flooding into my inbox for this make-believe family, it makes me so soft 🥹

Hope y’all enjoyed xoxo, lemme know below if you’d like to added to the taglist

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@whatstruthgottadowithit

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

#elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #sarge and lil mama #elvis fanfic #Elvis one shot #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis angst #elvis au #elvis photos #elvis fans #Elvis x Elaine #austin!elvis #elvis austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler elvis #viva Las Vegas #ann margret #thumper #thumper/naughty/tink

[writerpey]

Regressor Carmy Berzatto

I haven’t seen ANY agere content for the bear! and you know what they say… if you want a thing done, do it yourself. so… here’s an incredibly long post all about carmy as a regressor! side note: this is probably my favourite agere piece I’ve ever written. I just love the show so so much and understand carmy’s character very deeply (TW for bereavement, anxiety, typical carmy things etc etc)

Carm regresses for blatantly obvious reasons. His tumultuous family structure both before and after Mikey’s death, his time spent in New York under a verbally abusive head chef, and his overall inability to cope with it all. There’s a deep longing in him to go back to a time before he knew something was terribly wrong with both his family and himself.

He started regressing for the first time when he moved away from home to New York. Carm started paying more attention to the haze that would cover his eyes and grip his heart tightly when he felt so anxious it’d make him sick, his confusion from the familiar sensation of panic fading interchangeably into an odd feeling of comfort that he simply didn’t have the strength to hold off. As he spent more time working in NY, the feeling grew and grew, until one night he found himself coming out of his haze and realizing (as if a lightbulb appeared above his head) that feeling like a kid again, feeling small, helped the hurt in his heart go away, if even for a moment.

Carm started regressing in small ways. He’d make a comfort meal that reminded him of good times spent with his mom, or he would have the TV playing cartoons in the background as he perfected a veal consommé. He lied to himself about it in the beginning, convincing himself he needed the noise of the television to replicate what being in the kitchen was like, or that he wanted to see if he could perfect his mother’s recipes.

He didn’t truly understand how deep his regression went until Mikey passed. The child inside him cried out for his big brother, in desperate heaving sobs that left Carmy in a ball on his living room floor and his fingers in his mouth. Carm spent many nights battling horrid panic attacks by curling up on the cold floor in this manner.

And so while The Beef was sinking and Carmy was in charge of it all, he stayed afloat amongst his nightmares and reality which was the nightmare by regressing.

Carmy is a sweet, quiet and stuttering little. Always a shy boy, from his childhood onwards, he’s the least likely person to tell anyone about his regression, let alone his anxiety and trauma. So he spends most of his time regressing alone. Carm loves to draw and colour and make art when he’s regressed, usually sketching his favourite cartoon characters or funky dish ideas that come to mind even when he’s small. Most of his works of art end up crumpled and thrown in the trash because of his self-conscious nature, but occasionally he’ll be very happy with his work and he’ll put it away at the bottom of a drawer somewhere to look at when he’s little again.

He’s also keen on cooking when he’s little, but doesn’t do a very good job at it. His patience is even shorter than when he’s big, and his attempts at cookies have ended up in frustrated tears and an empty stomach. Carm has a tough time getting enough to eat when he’s regressed, and so he ended up freezing portion-sized meals that are simple for him to warm up when he’s feeling small.

Because Carmy is naturally shy, he has a difficult time accepting some of his traits and desires when he’s regressed. He doesn’t have anything child-like aside from a plush puppy that he keeps stuffed away in his dresser under a thousand white t-shirts, and it only comes out on nights when he’s feeling significantly smaller than usual. Its ears have been chewed at and its stuffing is lumpy, but Carm would rather set fire to his restaurant than walk into the children’s aisle of a store and buy another plushie.

Carmy is an emotional little. When he’s happy or excited his eyes practically twinkle and sparkle, and when he’s upset or embarrassed he turns red from his ears to his neck and his eyes prickle with hot tears. A tell-tale sign that he’s about to cry is when his bottom lip trembles or he runs to hide somewhere. Being in a small, dark space makes Carm feel safer to cry.

Nat and Richie are the only two people who truly know about Carm’s regression. He told Nat, in a longwinded roundabout way that made half the sense he wanted it to, but Richie found out by coming over uninvited and interacting with a Carmy who was half regressed and half trying to act like his usual self. A screaming match about Richie being an everyday asshole and Carmy being a stubborn asshole ended with embarrassed tears running down Carmy’s face and a rather shocked Richie. Richie drew Carmy into his arms and apologized while Carmy failed in shoving him off and instead quietly accepted the comfort.

Carm’s regressed at work before, a prospect drawn on by a panic attack outside during his break from being overstimulated in the kitchen, alongside the impending feeling of doom that came with the thought that he wasn’t good enough to be at the helm of anything, let alone Mikey’s lost dream.

Upon coming back to the kitchen, he completely shut down, frozen in place with his eyes focused on nothing, his mind somewhere else. Richie’s concerned utterances of ‘cousin’ and the feeling of his hands patting his face and shaking his shoulders brought him back to the surface, his eyes wide and terrified when he looked up at Richie. One glance around the kitchen to see Syd staring at him with a mixture of pity and concern made a garbled, strange sort of whine leave his throat, and Richie immediately led him back outside. The older man knew what was going on when Carmy declined a smoke with a jerky shake of his head, and called Nat to take him home.

Nat doted on Carmy like a mother when she got him settled into his apartment, the younger completely silent and meek as she bustled around his bedroom, fluffing pillows and bringing him hot tea that he accidentally sloshed all over his sheets. She uncovered his plush puppy from under one of his pillows and he had smacked it out of her hand while holding the tea. He practically cowered when she stared him down angrily, and reluctantly accepted the puppy when she picked it up and pushed it into his arms with a resounding, “that wasn’t very nice, Carm.” It’s safe to say Carmy didn’t call her for over a week afterwards, ashamed to have let her see him in that state. Telling her about his regression by no means meant that he would ever feel ready for her to really see it. His puppy was back to being jammed in his dresser in no time. But Nat was more than happy to be able to take care of her brother, content with seeing him deal with his feelings in a way better than fading after a panic attack and cussing out his employees and chain smoking. It did break her heart a little to see him so much like the baby brother she once knew, but it wasn’t as if it was unfamiliar territory to take care of him.

Carmy’s regression took on another layer when he decided to close The Beef and start fresh. Syd seemed to make sure of it, at least. She had no idea he regressed, and the thought of her finding out squeezed Carm’s insides with a vice grip. But her kindness and willingness to forgive him when he slipped up helped him to focus— both on the restaurant and the thought that maybe he could be kinder to himself when he felt small. Syd made him feel small sometimes, and not in a way that was an escape from his own issues, but rather a warm, safe place to come to when he felt comfortable, alive, and strangely contented. Her reaction to his food art did that, for one.

Her praise of his drawings made him less critical of his own when he was regressed at home, and the mere thought of her being impressed put the softest of smiles on Carmy’s face after he drew the latest dish she had been working on. He smacked it on his fridge with a magnet and didn’t take it down even when he was no longer feeling small.

Even just the domesticity of having Syd over to test new dishes and techniques made him more comfortable and willing to embrace his inherent small-ness. He liked being around her outside of the restaurant, her company giving him a sense of family without the sting of Mikey’s memory. Carmy found himself thinking about her more often when regressed, daydreaming about how she would treat him and quietly asking his puppy what it thought of Syd.

With newfound confidence from Syd’s steadying presence in his life, Carmy was willing to throw crayons into his basket while doing a grocery run. On top of the crayons came a head of lettuce, and then beside it his favourite childhood snack. He allowed himself a little more happiness, a little more to make him smile instead of climbing into his closet with his hands over his ears.

Things were far from perfect, but Carmy knew that if any part of his long broken heart wanted to heal, he had to be willing to let his regression — and his loved ones — be a part of that process.

<3

#the bear #the bear agere #sfw agere #sfw agere fic #the bear fic #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanons #carmy berzatto fic #little!carmy berzatto

[whinlatter]

bill weasley, 3, 8, and 37 🌵

(bill) weasley is our king. thank you @evesaintyves! 🌊

3. Obscure headcanon

bill’s coming of age watch is a prewett family heirloom, engraved with a handsome letter P with the family crest, given to molly by muriel for his seventeenth. he’s the only one of his brothers not to receive a new watch (as the eldest child, he didn’t have the same set of resentments about secondhand things as his the younger siblings). muriel is so attached to bill partly because he is the sibling who took most interest in the prewett side of the family, and she was clear she wanted her own father’s watch to go to bill when he turned seventeen. he wears the watch less out of real fondness for muriel than as a symbol of fabian and gideon (see below for more on this!) and of the memory of the last of the prewetts that he carries around with him every day.

8. Unpopular opinion about them

bill let fleur and his family down big time in hbp. dumping his fiancé at his family home and leaving her to fend for herself day in day out while he went to work — unhinged decision making, and kind of selfish imo. it was an arrangement that suited him, and makes sense for bill’s priorities - he sincerely wants his future wife and his family to be really close. but he went about it horribly and these living arrangements made the fleur vs the family beef wildly worse. moving in with your partner’s family - tough! having your son/brother’s girlfriend live with you when she’s blunt and outspoken and rude about your house/life/food/family friends — also tough! bill did nothing to help those tensions, just came home from work, did some weird pda in the kitchen, and washed his hands of the situation. not a good look, king!

37. What they really think of themselves

i think bill thinks of himself consciously as the leader and protector of the family, a role he enjoys and takes really seriously, the most important job in his life that only grows in significance after he becomes a father himself and has children of his own. he thinks about the legacy of fabian and gideon a lot. their deaths were really formative for him: he remembers his uncles quite clearly, and knows how profoundly their deaths changed his mother’s life and her own parenting to his younger siblings (it’s so important that molly is a bereaved person from the moment she enters the canon text! her boggart isn’t irrational or paranoid or wildly hypothetical, after all — she knows the experience of familial loss in war all too well). after the summer of 1995, bill leaves egypt immediately feeling very much like he is answering a call of duty to his family set in motion when his uncles were murdered. i reckon he argues with charlie about his decision to stay in romania and serve the order from afar, and that bill doesn’t get why charlie doesn’t feel the same sense of responsibility to the family as he does. in that way, bill recognises that he himself is more like percy in his solemn sense of duty, though his loyalty is to his family as an institution, rather than the ministry.

#bill weasley #a canonical ten #absolute worldie #headcanons #ask game #weasley family #fabian prewett #gideon prewett

[ethereal-engene]

One Shot | Mingyu

pairing: Mingyu x fem!reader // genre: angst and non-idol!AU

warnings: mentions of cheating from the reader, implied sex, and depictions of a toxic mindset + relationship // word count: ~2k

summary: Mingyu thinks he has a chance at being your boyfriend despite your current relationship with him.

note: fully inspired by prettymuch’s song one shot. I don’t think this needs to be said but just incase: I don’t condone cheating and this is a FICTIONAL story. Nothing represents the idol here.

Mingyu has no clue when his feelings for you started to come about. Perhaps it wasn’t one exact moment but rather the accumulation of small moments between the two of you.

Even though you were someone’s else’s lover, you both couldn’t get enough of each other. He knew it was wrong but your love was intoxicating. Leaving him bereaved every time you left in the middle of the night to return to where you were supposed to be, in another man’s arm.

Not only did you take yourself when you leave but you unknowingly took bits of his heart & whatever was left of his dignity with you. Maybe he’s a little naive to hope you do the same for him. Mingyu really doesn’t know why he stays.

Hearing so often from his friends that he’s better than this and deserves a better girl who would truly cherish him. He knows that they’re right but he can’t just let go of the possibility that one day, he’ll confess to you & you end up finally breaking up with your current boyfriend to be his.

Everything about you and him makes so much sense. Getting along both inside and outside of the bedroom. And the chemistry you guys have is through the roof. Despite this immoral relationship, you two act like a real couple. Going out on dates and buying each other things. As well as being there for each other whenever things are tough and more.

As a result, Mingyu desperately wants you to be officially his. Anyone could see that from miles away.

From the starstruck eyes he gives whenever he looks at you. From the way his hands always find yours to hold firmly at any given moment. From the way his smiles reach his cheeks as you laugh at his jokes. From the way he holds you closely whenever you two are out and about in case someone might try to do something. From the way, you fit so perfectly in his body. From the way, you both are comfortable being naked with your thoughts and feel comfortable in your own skin together.

This glimpse of what reality could be and feels like with you plagues his mind every time you come over. He’s got a bad case of being love sick. So far, no cure has worked on him. Some people might call him crazy but he thinks that he’s just fighting for love. You know it’s bad when he’s still with you even after all that has happened.

Once you were on the phone with some friends while at his place, and he couldn’t help but overhear some parts of it. A friend asking about what you and him were, and anticipating your answer to be a hopeful one. It gets quickly squashed as you reply with “We’re nothing but friendly fuck buddies that are also friends. I think you forgot that I am still in a relationship with my boyfriend.”

He steps away from the bedroom with a frown painted upon his face. This should have been the time to cut off whatever was going on between you two but still he held onto that silly dream of being together. It’s just he can’t imagine being in a relationship with anyone except you. Plus he secretly thinks that he could easily treat you better than your current boyfriend. Actually, it was a fact. Just as he questioned why you stayed with your boyfriend, others questioned why Mingyu was still with you.

Instead of the reality of your words setting in, he decides to forget that it happened. Continuing like nothing has changed. However that doesn’t stay true for that long when the second instance plays in front of him.

One night as y’all were practicing aftercare and talking about random things. He half-heartedly asks you “Are we really nothing?”. Mingyu’s puppy eyes and frown makes an appearance when he looks at you.

You’re taken aback by his question and piece together that he more than likely heard the conversation between you and your friends. You can’t break his little heart like that so you lie. “Of course not, Gyu. We’re something but we don’t gotta put a label on it right? I love the way things are right now and I love you. You got me and I got you! I love you, Mingyu. So much that you don’t even know.”

Holding his cheeks in your hand as you kiss his frown away. Slowly but surely, it turns into the smile that everyone loves. A selfish thought takes over you and wants this precious smile of his to never leave his face. It lights up rooms and makes people happy.

It’s unfortunate that this moment gets cut short when you get a phone call from your boyfriend. Swiftly picking up the call, you place a finger over his lips before getting off his bed to dress yourself. Not even paying attention, you end up wearing his shirt and leaving so quickly to not say goodbye to him.

As he hears the door shut close, his hands find their way combing through his hair. Something about frustration and the tiniest bit of hope. You had mentioned that you two were something instead of nothing! That must count for something right? But he’s also frustrated at how quick you left and wishes you would break up with your boyfriend.

- YOUR POV -

Knocking on your boyfriend’s door, he greets you and thanks you for coming over. You don’t miss the way he glares at the shirt you’re wearing. A shirt he’s never seen before and is clearly not one of his.

Noticing it, you brush it off by telling him it’s Mingyu’s shirt, but he doesn’t need to worry because he’s just a friend. “Mingyu is nothing more or less than a friend, baby. Really don’t worry, there’s nothing going on between us.” Stating firmly and walking to your shared bedroom.

He doesn’t say much and before you know it, the shirt is no longer on you anymore. The night is spent making love to each other. The last time actually unbeknownst to you.

Your boyfriend knew you were lying as he was prepping you and kissing up on you, the shirt was tainted with another man’s cologne that he immediately recognized as Mingyu’s. It wasn’t hard to tell though, he’s actually met Mingyu a few times and his cologne is distinct. It’s a shame that this will be your last night together because you were truly a wonderful lover to have but not enough as you cheated on him.

As you awaken from your sleep, you’re greeted with an empty spot next to you on the bed. Looking at the nightstand for your phone, you spot a piece of paper and see what it says.

‘Hey y/n, please leave my apartment when you wake up and don’t ever come back. Cheaters aren’t welcome at my place. I should have known that you were a cheater with the way you would come in late at odd hours. Not to mention the shirt you were wearing last night, 100% Mingyu’s without a doubt. I hope you two have a splendid time together & don’t bother contacting me again. I already moved all of your stuff back so you don’t have an excuse to come back.

I would say thank you for the past few years but fuck you for ruining it.

Goodbye y/n.’

You leave the apartment and Mingyu’s shirt behind. With no thought in mind, your feet take you to the one place where you know you’ll feel welcome, Mingyu’s place.

He opens the door to see your sad face and brings you into a hug. His hugs feel like home and somehow open the floor gates. Your tears soak his shirt and he rubs your back continuously. Some part of you didn’t even realize that your ex boyfriend meant that much to you. The other part of you is glad you’re no longer in a relationship.

There is no known reason as to why the cheating happened. The first time it just happened and was something that kept recurring. Mingyu’s presence in your life to your dismay was at your disposal. Thinking about it now, you were quite selfish to be cheating on your ex boyfriend and using Mingyu.

Even now crying in his arms made you realize it. It’s not that you didn’t know cheating was wrong but it just never fully settled until you got caught. As you spit out hateful words about yourself, Mingyu is quick to shut you up with kisses and tell you that it’s not true. You wonder why he thinks that you’re not a bad person for cheating.

Anyone with a right and clear mind would say otherwise. Which is again proven to not be Mingyu as he abruptly asks you out and to be his since you’re no longer with your ex boyfriend. His voice pleads as he looks at you waiting for an answer.

“Please just give me one shot, baby. It only takes a second to believe in us and another to believe in love. Don’t you believe in us?”

Breaking out of his arms, you reject him and tell him that he truly deserves better than what you can offer. Only for him to respond with it doesn’t matter because what he really wants is you & no one else. All he needs is one shot to show you just how much better he can treat you and be that person for you. You apologize profusely and repeatedly tell him that you cannot be the person for him, and it’d just be more wrong than our current relationship.

He doesn’t even have a chance to refute your comments and before he knows it, you’ve left his apartment. Mingyu sits in his living room waiting for you to come back. Looking like a sad dog waiting for their owner to come back home. As the tick tock sounds resonate in the air, hearing it as a reminder of how much time has already passed by. So he takes out the battery and waits some more.

It doesn’t seem to phase him how long it’s been until he gets an unexpected call. A call from your ex boyfriend. For some odd reason, he decides to answer it. Followed by a string of cuss words and more, there’s one thing that he tells Mingyu that takes the final straw. “You know, she told me that you guys were nothing and I didn’t need to be worried. She said that all the while she’s wearing your shirt that reeks of your cologne. You two deserve each other.”

Mingyu hangs up after that and doesn’t know what to make with this newfound information. He sits on his couch and returns to staring at the door again. Then he goes back to staring at his phone to see the time. It’s 6:29 PM. Has it really almost been 7 hours since you left? At the back of his head, he knows that you’re really not coming back. Your words of ‘deserve better’ can’t help but ring like crazy in his head.

Does he really deserve better when he knowingly slept with you when you were in a relationship? Does he really deserve better when he enjoyed every single second of it? Does he really deserve better when he was waiting for the moment you were out of your relationship so he could shoot his shot?

The truth is he probably doesn’t. Well at least not now. Maybe in the future when he’s learned how wrong this was. As well as learning to heal and forgive himself. But for now, he’ll mourn the loss of the relationship that could have been despite the circumstances in which your relationship brought you two together.

uhm, all I have to say is that I spun the wheel and it landed on Mingyu. I hope you liked this and if you did, please reblog it with your thoughts in the tag or leave a note or even send me an ask/message!

Thank you for reading this and take care!

signing off,

- ash

#kflixnet #caratwritersclub #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #svt angst #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst #seventeen fic #imagine seventeen #imagines seventeen

[hpowellsmith]

Honor Bound Character Intro: Fiore and Catarina

Here's a more detailed look at two of the major characters of Honor Bound, Fiore and Catarina. As parent and child, they're strongly linked, and their relationship with each other is tracked as well as your relationship with them as individuals. In order to get very close with Fiore, you'll need to have a solid relationship with Catarina too; Fiore won't want to be close with someone who isn't kind to their daughter.

Via military higher-ups, Fiore has arranged for you to guard Catarina while she's living away from home at boarding school. It's your choice how - and if - you'll shape Catarina's school life, and what connections - friendship, romance, or something else - you'll build with Fiore along the way.

INTRO POST | DEV DIARY & FEEDBACK THREAD | PATREON EARLY ACCESS DEMO COMING 6TH JUNE | PUBLIC DEMO COMING 4TH JULY |

-

Fiore:

Full name: Honored Fiore Roldan

Age: 35

Gender: selectable between trans man (he/him), trans woman (she/her) and nonbinary (they/them)

Background: an eminent scientist awarded a title for their contributions to agricultural science, though they haven't done much of note since then. They grew up in the capital of Teran, New Belmir City, and still live there in a luxurious but empty house. They married young, are now widowed, and their only child, Catarina, is fourteen.

Personality: serious, anxious, intelligent, protective

MBTI: INFJ

Appearance: mid-height and heavily built, with dark skin, brown-black eyes, and black tightly coiled hair.

Style: Fiore currently wears their hair in braids reaching to their upper back and carefully tied back. Their clothes are tastefully expensive and not entirely practical: business casual. They like the colour lilac.

At their best: intellectual, measured, caring

At their worst: fussy, indecisive, overcautious

You'll like Fiore if you like… someone quietly smart, who's eager to be liked, who (over)thinks before acting, for whom still waters run deep, who cares fiercely and is a devoted parent but who sometimes finds it hard to connect.

You'll like romancing Fiore if you like… a slow burn, shared support in the face of old regrets and new problems, forming a new family, reconciliation, facing up to mistakes, intense long-repressed emotions, being looked after, and someone who will take charge in a caring way if you're into that.

-

Catarina:

Full name: Catarina Roldan

Age: 14

Gender: cis girl (she/her)

Background: Catarina grew up in New Belmir City with her parents Fiore and Jaime. When she was 8, they divorced, with Fiore taking primary custody; when she was 10, Jaime was killed in a road accident. Catarina has a keen mind and is unafraid to tell people when she thinks they're wrong. Her dearest goal is to go into scientific research related to the young field of computing.

Personality: ambitious, perfectionistic, contrary, enterprising

MBTI: ISTJ

Appearance: plump, going to be taller than Fiore, with dark skin, dark brown eyes, and tightly coiled black hair.

Style: Catarina currently wears her hair in two puffs. When not wearing the golden Ozera school uniform, she likes to wear wide-legged trousers and turtleneck sweaters.

At her best: friendly, determined, eager

At her worst: stubborn, seeing things in black and white, inconsiderate

-

Fiore and Catarina: Fiore truly wants nothing but the best for Catarina but is finding it difficult to let go and allow her to spread her wings. Concerned for her wellbeing, they don't want her ambitions to push her into burnout; they're also anxious for her safety in the light of their fame.

Catarina and Fiore: it's been a tough few years for the two of them. Although they've had support from family and friends through the divorce and bereavement, they have found it difficult to connect and are often at odds. In particular, Catarina finds Fiore's anxiety patronising, and chafes at the idea that "it's the taking part that counts, not the winning". Why would she not want to win?

#choice of games #creme de la creme series #honor bound #honor bound intros #fiore roldan #catarina roldan

[garden-ghoul]

This Gushiwensday Shabbes, do we have a doozy of a poem for you! Here is "The Bitterness of Brief Daylight" by Li He.

Sunlight flies from us, fleeting sunlight--- listen for the space of one cup of wine. I don't know the height of the clear sky or the depth of the yellow earth, but I do know that the moon is cold, and the sun is warm, and they eat away a person's life. Eat bear and grow fat, or eat frog and waste away. Where is the Lady of Everlasting Life? Where the Heavenly Emperor? The immortal tree looms in the eastern sky, casting its shadow over the Sun-Bearing Dragon. I will cut off his feet, eat dragon meat, so he cannot bring back morning or subdue the night. It's natural that old men never die, that the bereaved do not weep. Why take pills of gold and swallow white jade? Who can be the fisherman riding his jade donkey into the clouds? In Emperor Wu's Splendid Tomb are only bones. The First Emperor's beautiful coffin stank so badly that in the end he was just a waste of pickled fish.

Original text and notes under the cut!

苦昼短

飞光飞光，劝尔一杯酒。 吾不识青天高，黄地厚。 唯见月寒日暖，来煎人寿。 食熊则肥，食蛙则瘦。 神君何在？太一安有？ 天东有若木，下置衔烛龙。 吾将斩龙足，嚼龙肉，使之朝不得回，夜不得伏。 自然老者不死，少者不哭。 何为服黄金、吞白玉？ 谁似任公子，云中骑碧驴？ 刘彻茂陵多滞骨，嬴政梓棺费鲍鱼。

This was a tough one. It's full of uncommon word usages and weird allusions that various versions of the notes don't really agree on. My main goal here was to make it flow conceptually and have the allusions make sense without consulting the notes. But here, have some notes as well.

listen for the space of one cup of wine --- I chose the meaning of 劝 that's "advise," but it likely means "console," especially followed by 尔---console yourself. But I was really struck by the anecdote in Baike's notes, in which Sima Yao raises his glass to a passing comet and seems to ask it to explain why even emperors die.

eat away --- the literal is 来煎, "come and fry." I considered "burn away a person's life," but I liked the sound of "eat" more in the end.

Eat bear... waste away --- bear paw is a delicacy for the rich, and frog is idiomatically what poor people eat. Given how deliberately provocative Li He is being in this poem, I think he's commenting that the rich live longer simply because they're rich.

Lady of Everlasting Life --- 神君 Divine Lord is the name of a woman who ascended to godhood after death and is prayed to for longevity.

The immortal tree looms --- there's actually no looming or shadows cast in the original; all it says is that the tree is in the eastern sky and the dragon is under it. I couldn't find an elegant way to word it, so I put in a little light and shadow imagery. Because...

Sun-Bearing Dragon --- aka Zhulong; he may or may not be the god of a mountain, and may or may not swim around holding a light in the land of eternal darkness. He may or may not be known as the Footless Dragon, which would make the poet's intent to eat his feet very interesting, but I think he means to keep the dragon from travelling around; as long as the dragon who holds the sun can't move, time can't go forward.

It's natural --- 自然 in modern vernacular refers to nature in much the same way we use it in English, separating human artifice from ecosystems in the world. The literal is "self correct," and Laurence thinks it might be a Daoist concept of the 'inherent nature of things.'

bereaved --- as far as I can tell 少者 isn't a real binome, but I wanted to share because the construction is cool to me. Literally you might read it as "losers": 者 is a suffix that makes the previous character an occupation or characteristic of a person. In this case, these are people who have lost something.

pills of gold... jade --- because gold and jade don't tarnish or spoil, they're among substances that those seeking immortality ingest to gain their longevity.

the fisherman --- it actually says 任公子 Young Master Ren, who is some kind of apocryphal super-fisherman who rode a donkey to heaven. I decided to use an epithet instead for clarity.

Emperor Wu --- (of Han) It actually gives his personal name 刘彻 Liu Che. Li He has written about his Splendid Tomb before!

The First Emperor --- similarly, it's written with his personal name 嬴政, perhaps to underscore the fact that he was just a man in the end. His beautiful coffin is made of catalpa wood (I'm just assuming that that's a beautiful wood). The story is that at his funeral his body smelled so bad that they had to dump out a bunch of pickled fish to mask the smell. I feel like Li He is being VERY bold to declare this 费 a waste of fish.

#gushiwensday #li he

[sortofanobsession]

To Cry for the Moon Part 15 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader) Complete

Author's Note: This is it everyone. This is the last part of this story. There may be possibilities for these characters to have future stories. I'm glad everyone has enjoyed it. I know that @jupitersmoon167 and I had a lot of fun making this happen. I take prompts and requests, but I don't get to all of them and I do my best. Thanks for sticking with us and for enjoy my first go at not only these characters but at a reader insert. Thank you for all the support and I will be posting the whole thing on Ao3 today or tomorrow.

Please do not take, copy, or translate without talking to me first. Reblogs, likes, and comments are encouraged. But anything else please message me first.

Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV. 

Italic text is the reflected alter talking.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic,  @urlocallsimp  @assassinsasha23, @queenariesofnarnia, @rmoonstoner,  @crypticruler, @animelover18, @philiasoul, @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol, @22carolina08, @preciousbabypeter, @sleepyamaya, @so-done-with-bullshit

Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader

Content Warning: Mental Illness, Mentions of Death, Anxiety, Fear, Ultimatums, Disassociation

Word Count: 2K+

Series Masterlist Complete

Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Part 15: A Cosmic Idea

After Y/N had said goodbye to Kingo and the newly human Sprite. She went to visit Steven at work since she has a few more days off. She had explained that her family had a tragic event that meant she had unexpectedly lost three family members to her bosses. She was been granted bereavement leave. So they both still technically had jobs. 

Steven was just finishing up with a customer when she walked in.

"How'd it go?" He asks once the customer was gone.

"Well considering what Sprite did, it went better than it could have. I mean we all get why she did it, but it still hurts. But if Sersi can forgive her then I guess I can too."

"It's because you are better people than most," Steven says as he comes around the counter and steals a quick kiss. 

"How's it going here?" She asks. 

"Long and boring," he admits. "You see there's this one tour guide that usually stops by in between tours and she's not here today."

"Sounds like a bummer," She chuckles.

"It is," he grins.

"Well, hopefully, she'll be back soon," she smirks.

"Oh, I'm not worried, since she and I have plans after work."

"Ooooh, lucky girl," she says. 

"We're the lucky ones," he says, giving her another kiss. They hear someone clear their throat. Steven jumps slightly. 

Y/N just sighs and without looking up says, "Hello, Donna."

"Aren't you on leave, Y/N?" Donna states, her tone filled with annoyance.

"I had a tough meet-up with my grieving family, and someone wouldn't let my boyfriend out of a shift so he could be there with me."

"It's unprofessional snogging in the shop," Donna says.

Y/N looks around at the empty shop. "Oh my, what will the statues think," she mumbles, causing Steven to have to try very hard not to laugh. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving," the goddess says, steals one last kiss then leaves. 

A bit later Steven notices a commotion in the hall outside the gift shop. People seemed to be hurrying to leave or to find anywhere with windows. Frantic voices spoke of giants. He checks his phone and reports of a giant being appearing in the sky makes him anxious.

"You don't think it's another celestial," Steven says out loud.

"What other giant space beings do you know of, Steven," Marc says from the glass reflection.

Steven tries to call Y/N but doesn't get an answer and it makes him even more on edge. He goes to call her again but his phone rings. It was Dane. He freezes. Marc takes over and answers it.

"What happened?" He asks without even saying hello. 

"They vanished, Sersi and Y/N. The three of us took the dog to park, Sersi and I were talking, and then what I can only assume is Arishem shows up in the sky, and then they’re gone.”

Marc’s world grinds to an abrupt halt. Jake takes over, having heard the whole thing. 

“Dane right?” Jake says. “This is Jake. Here’s the plan. You try and reach anyone else, the kid, the ship, anyone. We’ll see what the bird can find out and then meet at Steven’s flat. Got it?”

“Uh, sure I’ll call Sprite.”

“Good.” Jake hangs up. “Steven, tell that boss of yours, you’re taking a break because you need to make a phone call, either that or your gift shop is going to get real windy.”

Steven takes over and tells Donna that he needs to take a break, and for once does not let her try and stop him. He had bigger issues to deal with. Jake takes back over when they meet Khonshu outside.

“Y/N’s gone,” Jake says.

“How can that be?” Khonshu asks. “Lockley, explain.”

“I would if I could, but that Dane guy says she and Sersi are gone. That celestial shows up and now they’re gone. Not a coincidence.” Jake cusses in every language he knows. “He’s going to call the kid, and I said we’d see if the gods know anything. It’s a long shot but can’t hurt.”

Khonshu vanishes without another word. 

Egyptian Underworld 

Khonshu is let through Osiris' gate into the underworld. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been there, but he shook the thought and focused on why he was there. Before he can even ask, Osiris speaks.

"What happened to Ma'at?" Osiris asks. Taweret waiting silently beside him. Her ears twitch at the tension in the air. 

"The human dating the Eternal Sersi, says the celestial Arishem appeared, as the others may have seen, and the Ma’at and Sersi vanished."

"That explains why the scales failed," Osiris says. "They did not break like when Ma’at died, but they failed. The feather still has its glow, but the connection appears strained. And she is not anywhere that Horus, nor the Eye of Ra can see. Which means she is not in this world or on Earth."

"We must trust that Ma'at will find a way out of whatever she has found herself in," Khonshu states.

"Glad to see you two getting a long again. If only it was under better circumstances. Both of you," Osiris address both Khonshu and Taweret. "Return to your avatars and see what can be done." 

London

Jake and Steven had managed to get through the last few hours of the shift. They didn't even bother with their regular commute. They ducked into an alley and once Jake was sure no one would see he called on the suit and took the easy way back. He met Dane and Sprite in the hallway of Steven's building.

"Marc?" Sprite asks, a bit shocked at the angry expression on his face.

"He's busy," Jake says, "for now you're stuck with me."

"Jake," Dane informs her as Jake let's them in. "What did Khonshu find out?"

"They aren't in either world Osiris or Horus can see. But they seem to be alive."

"How do they know?" Sprite asks.

"Because the scales don't work but they didn't break. They broke when she died. So there's that. What about the others?"

"Ben says Phastos is gone too. Karun says Kingo never made it back to set," Sprite says. "Druig, Thena and Makkari are on the Domo and we have no idea how to reach them without Phastos."

"So we have nothing helpful," Jake curses. It's silent for a moment before Jake let's Steven take over so he can think without being bothered. Steven picking up Bas to scratch her behind the ears. He sets her down, feeds her, and then goes to feed Gus II. "Well, if we have to wait we might as well eat. Can't fight Celestials on an empty stomach and it will at least give us something to do. Even if you aren't hungry, you will need your strength." Layla joins them before they even finish cooking. Taweret had told her what was happening.

"I'll help if I can, even if is only to coax Marc back out," Layla says. 

"Jake thinks it's best to leave him be for now," Steven tells her.

"So he calls the shots now?" Layla asks.

Jake let's out a number of Spanish words from the reflection Marc usually occupies when Steven is in the kitchen. It was odd but still somewhat reassuring.

"Well, you just made him very angry, but Y/N asked him to try to be more of a part of the system. And he is trying." Steven says. "And he is the only one with any sort of a plan, so I am glad he is here."

"As long as Marc comes back soon," Layla says.

"He will," Jake says. "He always does."

"Jake says he always does," Steven tells them. "And he is right, Marc just doesn't like processing things in front of others. You know that."

"Yeah, I do," Layla admits.

Arishem's location

"You don't need them, Arishem, you just need me. You made me to judge humans. You want to see the good vs. bad, you just need me. They didn't get to see into the hearts of humanity like I did. The good and the bad. Let them go and I will stay."

"You would give your life for theirs?" The celestial asks.

"I have once already and I would again in a heartbeat," she tells him.

"No, Y/N, you can't," Sersi says.

"I can, Phastos has a family, Kingo has people that rely on him, and the others need you, Sersi. It makes the most sense."

"You have people too,” Sersi insists. “People who just got you back and that includes us."

"I am already on borrowed time,” Y/N states. “I choose to use that time to save you all. If things go wrong they will understand eventually. You will help them."

"Is this what you choose?" Arishem asks. "Your final decision."

"No!" Kingo, Sersi, and Phastos shout.

"Yes, Arishem,” the winged goddess answers. “This is what I choose."

"So be it," Arishem states.

"No, you can't!" Kingo shouts.

"Y/N," Sersi starts.

"It's okay Sersi, I have a plan." Y/N smiles. "You have to trust me." 

"Then let me stay too," Sersi says. 

"Not part of the deal, just tell them to trust me. Trust that I know what I am doing."

"Dying again?" Kingo asks. "Trust you to die again?!"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Y/N says. 

"Y/N/N…"

"Go home guys, goodbye."

"No!"

The trio disappears and it leaves just Y/N and the looming celestial. 

"Before you take my memories,” she tells him. “I have an offer to make."

"Another one?"

"Yes, I am willing to bet my life on this one, but their lives were not negotiable. If you don't like what I have to say, you lose nothing. If you agree we can change everything. We can all benefit from what I have figured out."

London

Sersi hurries over to Steven's flat. No one had been at home but Noob the dog. She hoped they were there. She knocked and knocked again when the door swung open.

"Sersi?" Steven was surprised. He let her in. 

“Sersi!" Dane says, going over to hug his girlfriend. “What happened? Where were you?"

"Where's Y/N?" Jake asks. Sersi is surprised at the unfamiliar American accent but doesn't dwell on it. She figures it's Jake.

"She convinced Arishem to let Kingo, Phastos, and I go. She told him since her task was to judge the hearts of humanity, and she had done so for thousands of years, she was the only one he needed. We tried to stop her. I tried to get them to let me stay but she said that wasn't the deal. That I needed to trust her."

"They just got her back," Jake says. "They can't lose her again."

"She told me to tell you to trust her," Sersi adds. "Where's Marc?" She asks.

"He didn't take the news well, Steven and Jake said he'd be back," Layla tells her.

"She has a plan," Steven says from the reflection of the tank. 

"We don't know she has a plan," Marc finally replies from his own reflection, but lets Jake keep fronting. 

"Not very helpful, mi amigo," Jake says. "But you are at least here."

"Why else would she say that?" Steven asks.

"To make us feel better," Marc says.

"Who is he talking to?" Dane asks.

"Steven, and sounds like maybe Marc too. They can talk through reflections," Layla tells him.

"I can see how that could be useful," Dane says.

"Well I trust her, if she wasn't coming back then she would have sent a different message," Steven argues.

"Let's hope so or the big guy is going to be very angry," Marc says.

"Which one?" Steven inquires.

"Both," Jake states.

When the trio's conversation seems to end. Sersi says, "We need a plan, Phastos is going to try and reach Thena, Druig, and Makkari on the Domo. Then we can come up with a plan. Kingo is already back on his way here."

"We better start figuring it out," Jake says.

Arishem's Location 

"You have my attention, make it worth my time," Arishem tells her.

Y/N starts to explain, "To create a new celestial you have to build a civilization then continue to expand and build for thousands of years, maybe millions. Then you get to the point the emergence happens. You lose all that advancement and have to start over."

"New galaxies are born from that destruction," Arishem states.

"Sure, but what if you didn't have to destroy the planet that is already cultivated and produces massive amounts of energy? What if you can have a separate seed planet that has minimal life, that the celestial grows inside and put just Eternals on it? Hear me out. Eternals connect with the celestial when it emerges. If the celestial can tap into the power of the planet why not the Eternals? Then much like Phastos and the UniMind, transfer the power from the Eternals on the thriving planets that are continuing past the point they would have been destroyed and transfer it to the seed planet. We can channel it through the Eternals themselves to the ships to allow greater transmission. It can be constant or whatever it needs to be. There is just so much wasted potential and death. If we fail to come up with a system then we can lead the existing people to colonize the seed planet and still don't have to start from scratch. They can use the advanced technology of the planet they left to speed up the process. If all of it fails then you can wipe my memory and we can start over."

"All that work just to save one planet?" Arishem inquires.

"A heavily populated one well on its way to continued advancement. And many more like it that would otherwise be destroyed. We can create a system that both sides get to continue. Everyone wins. Why not let us try?"

"Fine, you have until the next emergence."

"When is that?"

"When we decide it is time," Arishem informs her. 

"And how will we know?"

Arishem produces a new golden communication sphere. "Like all others before you. Betray us again and you will not find yourselves with new memories. You have defied us once. Fail and there will be no future."

With that, he sends her back to Earth.

London

Y/N is almost knocked to the ground as soon as she sets foot in the guys’ flat. "What happened? Are you alright?" Marc says. He had finally taken over.

"What did you say to get him to free you?" Sersi asks. 

"That if we can create a UniMind on a universal scale, then no civilized planet will ever have to be destroyed to bring about the birth of a celestial. If Eternals can tap into the same energy network that Celestials do to develop then why couldn't we tap into that power, funnel it through the Domo, and transfer it to the seed planet ship and then to the celestial. The seed planet can have minimal organisms. So that it can supply the materials to make a new galaxy. If we don't get it right we can still colonize the seed planet, power it, and won't have to start with zero technology. But if it all fails, well, we can't fail, let's just say that."

"How much time do we have?" Sersi asks.

"Until the next emergence and that is whenever they decide it is."

"So we have to design a machine of sorts to do the impossible in who knows how long a time span, or suffer terrible consequences, did I get that right?" Marc asks.

"Well it was that or everyone dies," Y/N says. "I did the best I could, with the only option we had. I guess I'm the middleman now since it was my idea." 

"No," Marc says. 

"You wanted me back, right?"

"Of course but this is too much for you, you died less than a week ago, you need to recover."

"I need to keep this planet alive and the pressure is more on Phastos unless we can reach the Domo. If they can find others like Phastos we might be able to do this. This is the best and only shot we have to not bring the wrath of the celestials down. We can recruit the best of the best, tell them the futures of everyone is at stake and we will not give up.” The others seemed unsure.

“This is our home,” Y/N tells them. “We have to defend it."

#completed fic #To Cry for the Moon Fic #moon knight eternals crossover fic #eternals!reader #eternals x reader #egyptian gods x eternals!reader #marc spector x eternals!reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x female!reader #steven grant x reader #khonshu x reader #tw: mental illness #tw: mentions of death #tw: ultimatums #tw: arguing #tw: anxiety #tw: fear #tw: disassociation

[thewales]

“Following this, the Prince and Princess will officially open a new family room which has been designed by a bereaved family who lost their father in a tragic road accident.”

This is going to be tough for William🥺💔

☹️

[captain-grammar]

hello, and welcome to "grief sucks and I am exhausted". on today's episode, two bereavements have knocked me on my butt and two funerals will be tough to get through.

#bry rambles #tw: death

[roseyturtles]

Yknow oddly enough I prefer grieving as a kid over grieving as an adult because at least then everyone handwaves you crying and getting angry and not wanting to get out of bed as just being a kid and there's adults in your life that'll wipe away the consequences

Grieving as an adult is just like. Here's the sudden unbearable realization that the woman who raised you and cradled you from infancy is gone and never coming back. Here's the realization that the way she died suggests that no one loved her as much as you did and no one was there to catch her as she fell to the floor. Oh also it's the middle of the workday and you already took your bereavement leave so tough luck lmao

#grief #grief tw #death tw

[denimbex1986]

'Should David Tennant die? That is a far more controversial question this week than it was last week. Last Saturday, Doctor Who viewers, who have few certainties to rely on at the best of times, sat down with the unshakeable confidence that, one way or another, they were going to watch Tennant’s take on the Doctor meet a tragic end, again.

Yes, if forced to guess, we would have bet that his ending would be a bit more uplifting than he saw at the end of his last run (“The Doctor doesn’t want to die and thinks that the next version of him is an imposter” is apparently a legacy Davies only likes to leave for other showrunners to pick up). But none of us could have foreseen the regeneration splitting the Doctor in two, like a bacterium, or Captain Kirk when the transporter is having an off day.

“Bigeneration” is a plot choice that has drawn mixed reactions – especially as Russell T Davies has gone on to say that this process has affected all the Doctors, leaving Tom Baker lying on the floor underneath Jodrell Bank while Sylvester McCoy is banging on the inside of his drawer at the morgue. One must imagine Patrick Troughton’s Doctor has pretty mixed feelings about surviving the Time Lord’s enforced regeneration only to discover himself floating in the vacuum of space surrounded by a bunch of dead Cyber Time Lords.

This also leaves us with the frightening prospect of not one, but potentially four David Tennant Doctors wandering around the Whoniverse (The Tenth Doctor, the meta-crisis Doctor, the post-meta-crisis regeneration Tenth Doctor, and the Fourteenth Doctor, for those keeping score at home).

But aside from all the fun to be had watching Doctor Who canon completely explode, again, bigeneration is a game changer, and it doesn’t necessarily change the game for the better. A key part of the Doctor Who mythos is that the Doctor dies. It is important thematically to the show – as Peter Capaldi himself has pointed out.

As Capaldi puts it, “People always ask me what is it about the show that appeals so broadly. The answer I would like to give that I’m discouraged from giving because it’s not useful to the promotion of a brand is that it’s about death, and it has a very, very powerful death motif in it which is that the central character dies.”

Happily Ever After?

There’s no denying the truth of Capaldi’s argument – and Russell T Davies himself made sure to have lots and lots of character deaths in his Doctor Who from the start. But Doctor Who is also a kid’s show (yes it is), and while we all know children’s stories can go to surprisingly dark places, you have to come out the other side eventually. Kids want a happy ending, and that is a difficult ask for a story that has been running continuously across various media for 60 years and looks set to keep going for at least 60 more.

This was a big part of the Fourteenth Doctor’s arc, as the Fifteenth Doctor points out by reeling off all the adventures, tragedies, bereavements, and struggles the Doctor has been through since Ian and Barbara wandered into his TARDIS back in the first episode. Anyone who actually lived through all that would be an emotional wreck.

But whatever happens, the Doctor always resets to zero, the figurative “Mad man (person) in a box”, which means giving them any kind of lasting closure is a tough job. Yet, that is what bigeneration gives the Fourteenth Doctor. Weirdly, his ending is most reminiscent of the end of a The Fast and the Furious movie – a found family of characters sitting around an outdoor table for a celebratory meal, the one character whose actor has passed away ostensibly just off-screen.

The Fourteenth Doctor gets everything the Doctor might want – a chance for quiet, for rest, a family, a home, and a spare TARDIS waiting in the wings if he wants to pop out for a Big Finish box set (or future TV special) when nobody’s looking. It is the happiest ending the Doctor could hope for, and not for the first time.

The Many Endings of the Doctor

In many ways, the Fourteenth Doctor’s ending is a shinier version of the Tenth’s the last time the Doctor and Donna travelled together. In the epic two-part franchise-sized crossover story, “The Stolen Earth”/”Journey’s End,” the Doctor is forced to regenerate, but instead of changing his face the regeneration energy is transferred into the Doctor’s own dismembered hand (it’s a long story) and Donna herself, creating the DoctorDonna (leading to her mindwipe ending) and a new, one-hearted Tenth Doctor clone that his previous companion, Rose, could take back to her universe to grow old with.

The original script even had Davies give the Doctor clone a bit of TARDIS coral to grow his own TARDIS later down the line. But even here, the Doctor clone is all angry and warlike, while the original Doctor is left looking sad and wet and alone in his TARDIS when the credits roll.

Other writers have also taken on the job of trying to give the Doctor a happy ending.

Paul Cornell, the writer of classic NuWho episodes “Father’s Day” and the “Human Nature/Family of Blood” two-parter, also wrote a piece of fan fiction all the way back in 2009, “The Last Doctor” that attempted to give him an ending. Appropriately, it is a Christmas story, which sees a final incarnation of the Doctor warming a community of refugees with the heat of a dying TARDIS at the end of the universe. Either through parallel evolution or, frankly, because Moffat probably read it, the Matt Smith regeneration story “The Time of the Doctor” bears more than a passing similarity to it.

In “The Last Doctor”, the Doctor doesn’t get a happy ending as such. This Doctor’s best ending is to keep fighting against the dying of the universe until the last possible moment (as River Song says, nobody knows that everything must die better than the Doctor, but he’ll never accept it), and then to be present when the new universe is born. When your character’s defining trait is a need to fight injustice at any place or time in the universe, going down fighting might be the best happy ending they can hope for.

Steven Moffat has had a go as well. With his own anniversary special, he gifted the Doctor three happy endings. First, he gave the Doctor his home planet back. Secondly, he hid it in a pocket dimension so that the Doctor still had adventures to come and also didn’t need to deal with all those pain-in-the-arse Time Lords. But finally, he introduced the Curator, who closely resembled Tom Baker and suggested the Doctor might revisit some old faces in his future (You don’t say?!). This character was all but said to be a future incarnation of the Doctor, a Doctor who had retired from saving the universe to look after an art gallery. Fans are already suggesting this is the Fourteenth Doctor’s post-bigeneration fate.

But this is not even the first future Doctor that Steven Moffat has introduced! In the story that gave us the Doctor’s non-linear love interest River Song, “Silence in the Library/The Forest of the Dead”, the child whose brain runs the Library supercomputer is cared for by an AI called “Doctor Moon”, played by Colin Salmon.

Moffat envisioned the “last scene of Doctor Who” while creating that two-parter, deciding that the River we meet in those episodes is not only his wife but his widow. Moffat explained in Doctor Who Magazine (via Radio Times) that “Somewhere in the terrible future, on a battlefield, the 45th Doctor dies in her arms and makes her the same promise she once made him – it’s not over for you, you’ll see me again. So River buries her husband and off she goes to have lots of adventures with his younger selves and confuse the hell out of them.

“Until, of course, she ends up in the data core of the Library Planet, and realises she’ll never see him again. And then she starts to wonder why anyone would call a moon ‘Doctor.’ Ahhh…”

Later Moffat would write that even before the 45th Doctor and River Song ended up happily ever after in the Library computer, River Song and the Doctor had another happy ending. At the end of the Christmas special, “The Husbands of River Song”, Peter Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor and River Song are given one last night together, before River must go and meet her “death” in “Silence in the Library” and complete their timey wimey bootstrap paradox.

But at the end of the episode, the Doctor reveals that on this planet one night lasts 24 years. For all the Fifteenth Doctor says about the Doctor never stopping, he stopped here for a while – as he did on the planet of Christmas in “The Time of the Doctor”, growing old and protecting children.

That is what all these endings have in common. The Doctor stops travelling. He stops, he settles down. The Ninth Doctor proudly proclaims, “I don’t do domestic”, but all of these “endings” imply a bit of domesticity is just what the Doctor is missing.

The End…Until It’s Not

While the Fifteenth Doctor can happily fly off into space because the Fourteenth Doctor “did the rehab”, and is next seen dancing in a nightclub in the upcoming “The Church on Ruby Road” Christmas special, we’ve got to ask, how long before this Doctor’s trauma meter is so filled up that they need to go and find another domestic happy ending somewhere?

Because the idea that the Doctor needs to “settle down” is, frankly, at odds with the entire nature of the character. The Russell T Davies version in particular is an escape from a certain preconceived notion of domesticity – frankly, straight domesticity. Rose, Donna, and Torchwood’s Gwen, they all start out trapped in dull lives with useless boyfriends, yearning for something more (Steven Moffat’s take on Who is, obviously, a good deal more sympathetic to useless boyfriends).

The Doctor is about freedom and adventure, and doing what’s right even when it’s dangerous or painful or socially awkward, and the happiest endings, the ones that leave you punching the air when the credits roll, are the ones where the TARDIS is already flying off to its next adventure as Ncuti Gatwa does at the end of “The Giggle”.

If one day Doctor Who does actually need an ending, an actual, proper, canon ending that brooks no return, the fact is they will have a hard time topping Sylvester McCoy’s speech at the end of “Survival”, the last story broadcast before the classic series of Who was unceremoniously cancelled:

“There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, and the sea’s asleep, and the rivers dream; people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there’s danger, somewhere there’s injustice, and somewhere else the tea’s getting cold. Come on, Ace. We’ve got work to do!”'

#David Tennant #Ncuti Gatwa #Bi-generation #Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #Peter Capaldi #Sylvester McCoy #Ace #TARDIS #The Giggle #Tom Baker #Patrick Troughton #Meta-Crisis Doctor #The Stolen Earth #Journey's End #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #River Song #Paul Cornell #Father's Day #Human Nature #The Family of Blood #Matt Smith #The Time of the Doctor #The Last Doctor #Silence in the Library #Forest of the Dead