#not just because of how iconic the bathtub moment is but because you know they had to scrap off so much gore first. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silentsockfeet · 1 year

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tlou hbo s1 ep3 thoughts (spoilers)

honestly i don’t have much, this episode changed so much from the game that i don’t really have any thoughts to share in terms of their relation

don’t attack me for this but a small part of me is a little disappointed by how much this ep deviated from the game. there were so many iconic moments from bill’s town (the snare trap scene, bill and ellie’s banter, the bloater) that i would’ve loved to see translated to the screen, so a part of me is sad to have missed out on it

that being said, this episode really was beautiful. i’m so glad that of all the couples they could’ve shown, they chose a gay couple to get to grow old and live a life together as happily and peacefully as they could’ve. i knew going in that they were going to expand more on bill and frank’s relationship so my main worry was that they would still have frank turn on bill in some way, so i’m glad that’s not the route they went with. we very rarely get to see older gays in media, and in general practically never get to see them be happy in love, and growing older with each other, so it was beautiful to finally get that sort of story, especially in a show that’s otherwise so dark and grim.

in a weird way, i’m also glad they specifically chose to have bill and frank choose to end their lives rather than have one of them die violently or something. tlou (both the game and the show) doesn’t shy away from the more ugly or taboo parts of humanity so it’s cool to get to explore this kind of decision and why some people might come to it.

it reminds me of the scene in the game where joel and ellie find a dead body in a bathtub with someone clearly having killed themself, and ellie asked why some people would do that, and joel responded “for some people it wasn’t a choice.” in the same sort of sense, there wasn’t really much of a choice for bill and frank either. it was either watch someone you’ve grown old with choose to die (and also be the one to have to kill them, in a way) or choose to go with them and embrace death together. all in all a really beautiful way to bring up that kind of dark and difficult conversation

the strawberry scene is what really got me, what always drew me to tlou was its ability to show the beauty of the simple moments in life, ones that we often overlook. i can’t imagine how emotional i would be getting to taste strawberries again after living ten years in an apocalypse, and bill getting to share that moment with frank was so goddamn sweet

playing vanishing grace during the dinner scene 😭😭 like i said, i think the best moments in tlou are the ones that show how beautiful life can be when we stop and let ourselves experience the smaller, simpler moments, and imo vanishing grace has always been the motif for that. it plays in the giraffe scene in the game, so to play it during the dinner scene was heart wrenching. it really hammered home the point of appreciating the time we get with the world and our loved ones, and also starts setting up the running motif of ‘you keep finding something to fight for’

which brings me to bill’s note, i love that bill wrote it to joel specifically and not tess, they were the two that understood each other the most because they were of similar mindsets. i also liked how much it really highlights the fact that joel did love tess back but just in his own way, and bill knew that more than anyone else could’ve

i’m so excited by the way the note is setting up the relationship between joel and ellie too. right now joel is still on this mission because it’s what tess would’ve wanted but it’s fun to know that bill’s words in the note are going to shift into ellie being the person that joel seeks to protect. i also sort of love the juxtaposition of bill using the verb “protect your loved ones” versus joel saying “fight for your loved ones” by the end of the game, it’s the same concept with different connotations. i like the idea that bill starts off as a fight person but by the end becomes a protect person, and joel is now on roughly the same kind of journey.

one thing i kind of wish we’d seen is a scene were we explicitly see ellie realize the kind of relationship bill and frank had. it would have been nice to see her have that sort of Gay Recognition moment in them, the realization that there were people like her in this world. i think it also would’ve been helpful to set up the themes for pt2 down the line, ellie could have this sort of life to look up to where her and dina could grow old and live a life together.

i also find it really intriguing the subtle changes they’re making to ellie’s character. both the game and tv versions have their moments of innocence but i feel like in the game ellie’s moments centered around her naivety about the world, the fact that she hasn’t really been exposed to certain levels of violence before. meanwhile i feel like in the show her moments are more about not understanding how the world used to be, and she’s much more accepting of violence because that’s what the world she lives in now is founded on. she’s so much more comfortable and even open and intrigued by it now, as shown by that scene with the infected and with how keen she is to get a gun. i still feel like it’s in a bit of an aggrandizing way, like she wants to be the sort of gunfire cowboy type character, and that once the proper reality of violence hits her she’ll reach a sort of breaking point. but it also really helping fill in the gaps of how she becomes who she is in the second game, so i’m glad we’re seeing these moments.

also like. is it just me or are the parallels between bill/frank and ellie/dina kind of strong here? there’s the garden, the little homestead all on their own land, the fact that frank takes up painting, the serenading your lover scene,, it feels so stark to me. and ellie has always had slight parallels to bill (and by extension joel), she has the same sort of mindset of “i’d rather isolate than have to face losing the people i love” and dina has the more brighter outlook of life that frank has, the idea that by surrounding ourselves with people we love we become our best, strongest self. and don’t even get me started on the final shot with the window,, looking at joel and ellie leaving through the window was so reminiscent of the final shot in pt2 i can’t even put into words what exactly it means to me

in summary: sad to be missing some scenes from the game but the changes they made are so beautiful i really can’t be mad. glad we got to see a happy ending for bill and frank and i’m excited for all the ways they’re setting up the next steps

#tlou hbo #tlou spoilers #the last of us #my posts #tlou hbo notes #tlou 1x03

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lust-ofasmodeus · 2 years

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What if MCs candle got blown out by accident?

Angst

GN!MC

TW/CW: death, gambling

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After achieving your goal in the reapers cave everyone was ready to leave when it suddenly happened. Someone had accidentally turned around too quickly blowing out your candle with their movements. The moment it happened you started to feel dizzy as the corners of your vision darkened. Your ears were ringing blocking out words the brothers were saying in panic.

The moment itself didn’t feel bad it was quite peaceful, the only thing that hurt was realising that you were never going to see the brothers again.

Before you hit the ground you reached towards him…

Lucifer

Fear covered his face and the usually rational and calm Lucifer panicked. Your body felt so limp in his arms and there was nothing he could do. His throat closed up not being able to say a single word

You looked so peaceful but not in a way he wanted. He swore he wouldn’t let anything hurt you but there you were. Laying dead in his arms with no chance of waking up

He didn’t cry. At least not in front of his brothers, his pride wouldn’t let him. Everyone said he was cold and that he didn’t care. But he did, he cared so much. After your death he was even colder than before, but the moment he was alone in his room he would break down crying

He blamed himself for not being able to protect you. From that day on he buried himself with work not stopping until it was time to sleep because if he didn’t occupy his brain with work, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than you

Every day he would bring your favourite flowers to your grave wanting to show how much he was sorry

Mammon

It was happening again. Your limp body in his arms made him relive the worst day in his life. The only thing he knew was different was that this time you weren’t coming back no matter how much he wanted you to

“H-hey MC come on.. d-don’t play with me..” tears fell from his eyes as he held your body close to him. Tears stained your shirt and he could feel the warmth leaving your body

His heart hurt so much and he tried everything to forget about that day. He would still visit your room everyday and wouldn’t let anyone else inside it, tricking his brain that you were still with him

Most of the days were spent gambling and looking for you. He kept asking everyone where you were and when you were coming back

He couldn’t let go of you, you’re coming back after all… right?

If or when the day came where he made peace with your death he would visit your grave, crying or talking to you about everything and nothing at the same time

Levi

No no no you’re fine right? You can just respawn like you always do.. right?

He cried so much not letting anyone else near you. It took a long time to calm him down and for others to take MCs body away from him

For days he couldn’t play and just stayed in his room curled up in his bathtub. He took your stuff into his room not letting anyone get something that belonged to you as it was the only thing that still had your scent

When he began to play games again it hurt more as “Player 2” was always displayed on the screen with your picture as the icon

He looked at the icon for days not caring if he lost anymore he just wanted to see your smiling face again

The day you died was the day he lost the only person who understood him and didn’t judge him for who he was. His Henry was gone

Satan

Oh his wrath took over the second he felt your limp body hit his arms. If the brothers weren’t there he would blow out every stupid candle in the cave

The second they got home he trashed his whole room breaking every piece of furniture in it. It took a long while before he calmed down but when he finally did he looked everywhere for a way to bring you back to him

After weeks of searching he finally found something but he knew you wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be you it would just be a version of you and it would never be the same

He had to make peace with you being gone, but every time he saw himself in the mirror he got angry. Not being able to save you that day ate him from the inside

If someone ever said something about you his wrath would make sure they never mention you again. It made him feel bad but he couldn’t control it as much as he wanted to

Asmo

His eyes widened as soon as your body hit his arms. “D-darling?” Tears filled his eyes as he felt your heart stop. The face that used to smile at him and the cheeks that were always a rosy red colour around him weren’t there anymore

Your pale body laid in his arms while he was trying to lightly shake you awake without success. He cried not caring if his makeup was ruined, he just lost the person who cares for more than just his looks

On the day of the funeral he made sure to make you look as beautiful as you always were even if you couldn’t appreciate it with him this time

He let go of himself for a while not caring about his outfits or makeup. People started talking but he couldn’t care, you weren’t here anymore and you’re never coming back

His eyes were always puffy from crying but every day ,even if it hurt, he would visit your grave and tell you all the new gossip and trends that were in at the time

Beel

No no no you just gave him your life essence you can’t die he swore to protect you. He can’t loose another part of his family again

His arms grabbed you with ease and he tried to shake you awake. “Come on MC! Don’t die on me! Please!” His voice was cracking with every word he managed to get out

He was the one who ended up carrying your body out of the cave and back to the house

The blame he felt from everything that happened was killing him. Pain and guilt of loosing you overwrote the feeling of hunger that was always with him

As much as Belphie tried to calm him down and tell him it’s not his fault he couldn’t believe a word he was saying. He failed the family again

The guilt ate at him from the inside hurting more than the constant feeling of emptiness in his stomach

Belphie

What was happening? No you can’t die again! Please! The moment you collapsed his world went dark remembering the same moment a long time ago

Was it his fault again? How could he let it happen. Your body was so cold, nothing like the warmth he used to feel when you were snuggling together

All of the blame he once felt came back and he couldn’t shake it off. He finally realised what everyone felt the night he made that mistake

Weeks past and he still had nightmares. To others it might seem like a dream but your smiling face haunted him. What he once saw as a dream was now his biggest nightmare. He couldn’t see your face again when he woke up the next morning, no one to comfort him after this nightmare

It took him months if not years to finally get a good nights rest

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

smut alphabet - fatgum

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex, Taishiro enjoys a nice, warm bubble bath to unwind and clean up. As you relax, preferably with you resting against his stomach, he’ll run soap all over your sweaty skin then gently massage your lower back. When you’re bent over the bed, your back takes a lot of the stress with him pounding you from behind.

Following your bath, he’ll take as much skin-to-skin contact as he can get. It doesn’t matter if you’re lounging on the couch or laying in bed. He just wants to enjoy you. Feeling your body safe in his arms puts him at ease. And he’s super warm, so he’s the best to cuddle with during chilly nights.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Oh, he adores your tummy. All of it. Any surface, from your collar bones to your hips, he’ll kiss and lick and tickle and worship. Anything you consider a flaw or ugly, he commends. It’s not an exaggeration. You’re an icon. He’d kneel before you, honoring each stretch mark, revering every scar, bumps, or ‘defect,’ whispering into your skin as he kisses the whole of your stomach. If you’re ticklish, be prepared for him to blow raspberries.

On himself, he’s fond of his hands and smile. His smile attracts people. It’s big, friendly, and bright. His hands, though often used for maiming, are delicate and graceful whenever they glide over you. They’re strong, broad, heavy, and thick. Those apply to his fingers as well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s flavorful, to say the least: rather bitter with salty undertones. Most of the time, he uses condoms as he enjoys cumming inside you, but he also doesn’t want to risk pregnancy when you’re not planning for it.

It’s thick, and he loves watching it ooze out of you. Once his orgasm builds, he withdraws so only his head remains inside and pumps himself, cumming near your entrance. He’ll stroke your lower tummy, whispering how beautiful you are, singing praise after praise when you push his cum out. He’ll probably lick it up too.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t really have a dirty secret. He’s quite open about what he likes and wants, and what he’s done. Regardless, he fantasizes watching you play and suck on a lollipop, occasionally using it to pleasure yourself, then lick your wetness off of it. But he knows that isn’t healthy. Food, as good as it is to eat, shouldn’t be going inside.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While Tai may not be a Casanova, he knows how to pleasure someone. Oral is where his confidence lies. He can easily move your body around, sucking soft skin, dragging his tongue over wherever you need. He also has enough experience to know how much he needs to prepare you for penetrative sex. Making sure you’re stretched, lubricated, and ready is one thing he does without fail.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He isn’t picky. If he’s having fun and you’re having fun, it’s a splendid position. In doggy-style positions, he fancies the view of your hips wriggling and ass bouncing. And in missionary/right angle positions, your moaning face is a delight to see. Your legs will be held against his stomach as he’s thrusting into you, watching your breasts and mouth. He’ll occasionally open them to fondle more of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite his normal, feel-good, cheerful mood, he becomes a bit serious once in the moment. That doesn’t mean he won’t laugh, joke, or smile. Because he absolutely does! But his general feel is more acute, focusing on your body, praising your mouth and skill to hell and back.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

There’s a tuft of hair down there with a little trail leading up to his belly button. It’s a sandy blond that darkens to dirty blond around his base. He doesn’t shave: it makes him feel weirdly naked. He may trim after a while, but he typically keeps it at a manageable semi-long.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You won’t have to ask for flowers, a candlelit dinner, and soft music. One random day, you’ll open the door to all of that and more, and your smiling boyfriend holding a present. It’s a cute, new teddy he wants you to wear. After dinner, he whisks you away to the bedroom, continuing the romance for the rest of the night.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It happens more than Tai cares to admit. A Hero’s job isn’t easy. Masturbating works excess stress off. And he gets more adrenaline boners than others. He doesn’t know why. He’s been that way since he was a teenager. In the wake of a fight, he hurries home, jumps in the shower, and relieves himself. It’s over pretty quickly. However, if you’re home, he’s very willing to receive a blowjob. You know… if you want.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s very vocal. Not in the constantly moaning way. He just talks a lot, worshiping and praising your body and everything you do. It’s natural to him. He only wants you to know how good you are at sucking him and how beautiful you look gasping at the sheets and how stunning your slightly teary eyes are each and every thrust.

Going off that, it may not be a kink per se, but it arouses him seeing your eyes water. It’s not sadistic. He’d hate to bring you genuine pain. It’s about seeing you so horny, captivated, passionate, and immersed in all the pleasure to the point you can’t contain it, so it comes out as tears, floods his heart in love and warmth. He’ll do anything to see you like that every time.

Some softer kinks are anal and toys. He enjoys exploring your body and finding fresh ways to have fun. Anal isn’t one he partakes in a lot because of his size. It’d take much more preparation, and he worries about hurting you.

Being a Daddy is another thing he enjoys. It’s not his primary interest, and he can certainly live without it. He just likes being a protector, a comforter, keeping you safe from the world as you cuddle on the couch. He’s open to having rules, punishments, and willing to explore the overall lifestyle.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Not only is Taishiro incredibly tall, but he’s also strong and heavy. He’s broken more than his fair share of furniture. And yes, some of that was because he was screwing his partner over a table, putting his entire weight behind each thrust. Considering this issue, he tends to stick to the bed, couch, and sometimes the bathtub (really just any place that he won’t break).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you’re licking a popsicle, slurping the drippings, he’s interested. When you’re sucking on a lollipop, twirling your tongue around it, he’s very interested. He simply approves of you using your mouth in domestic-yet-arousing ways.

Overall, it doesn’t take much to work him up. You can just ask for sex, and he’s down. Lingerie is cute, especially if it’s a simple matching bra and panty set with some frills. It’s basic yet endearing. It also lets him appreciate your tummy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s open to trying most things once. He wants to experience something before deciding his stance on it.

Sex in public is the main one. He’s a Pro Hero. Public indecency would ruin his career. And he’s a huge guy. He can’t exactly hide. So even if he wanted to, it’d be incredibly hard to fondle each other while in public.

He won’t ever put your or his health in danger. The extreme side of BDSM (blood, CBT [not the therapy], and whips) and any sort of bodily fluid/waste are off-limits. Those hold no interest to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Tai eats… everything. You’re no exception to his hunger. He’s a firm believer in going down on his partner. His tongue, like his fingers, is broad, thick, and heavy. Because of his size, he’s become quite proficient at giving oral to prepare others.

He starts with feather-light kisses along your thighs, getting you excited before even touching you. When you’re shaking to his liking, he removes your underwear to continue his kisses, gradually increasing in pressure. His first licks are around where you want them. Only when you’re moaning from that does he finally lick along you, pushing his tongue inside, sucking your clit in between his lips. He likes you orgasming at least once before he fingers you.

To treat him, oral cock warming is the best option. While he’s watching Tv, just plop down between his legs and keep him in your mouth, sipping on all his precum. When it’s time to move, lick under his foreskin. It causes the loudest groans.

Unlike some guys, he doesn’t like it when you gag on him. It doesn’t make him feel big. He knows he’s big. Because of that and his size, he never grabs your head. He won’t force you any lower than you choose.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He fluctuates between slow-and-hard and fast-and-flattering. Sometimes he prefers measured thrusts, taking his time pulling out, watching you stretch around him, then intensely sinking inside so hard your whole body shakes. Other times he enjoys holding your hips at the perfect angle, thrusting quick, complimenting how well you’re taking him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies don’t bother him. They happen. And he certainly won’t turn one down if you happen to get all riled up in the kitchen. Just make sure you’re someplace he won’t break.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Again, Tai will try most things at least once. And he’s game for any experimentation. If you have a new trick or toy, he’s open. But risks? He isn’t as interested. He’s a Hero. He doesn’t want to jeopardize his career for an alleyway blowjob.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

One round is his normal. He isn’t some sex god. Since he focuses so much on preparing and stretching you in the beginning, one session usually lasts a good forty to fifty minutes.

If he’s worked up over something, or it’s just a highly horny day, he can go for two rounds. That easily lasts for over an hour. You’ll definitely need some rest after that. Take three ibuprofen and relax in the bath together.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any despite enjoying them. He hasn’t been in a relationship long enough to buy sex toys together. If you have any, he’d love to incorporate them. If you want any, he’ll look for some online and surprise you with the toy one day.

He’s interested in a few BDSM toys to use on you, mostly nipple clamps, furry wrist cuffs, and a paddle with little heart cut-outs so they get imprinted on your ass. Purple is his preferred color, particularly lilac or lavender. No matter your size, skin color, and scars, purple looks downright gorgeous on you. Almost too much so because it gets him riled up and thrusting gasping-bed-creaking-and-toe-curling deep.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tai will tease you to tears. He just loves the sounds you make when you’re desperate: whining for his fingers, fussing for his mouth, begging for him to finally touch you, and, most importantly, how you cry for his dick, how you whimper when he first fills you, then your gasps from his thrusts. He can’t get enough, and he’ll do damn near anything to hear more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His noises are moderate in volume and perfectly handsome. His groans are deep and exciting whenever you suck him just right. Although, if talking counts, he’s on the higher end of the spectrum because his mouth just keeps on moving.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When people are only attracted to him when he’s skinny, he feels weird. He’s not sure if it’s insecurity, uncertainty, or something else. He hardly recognizes himself when he looks in the mirror and sees a six-pack. That’s not his body. His quirk relies on fat. His body’s supposed to be fat. Those stares and giggles he receives because of his abs don’t flatter him like it may other people. He wants his partner to love his body for everything it is.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Just like the rest of him, Taishiro is big. And thick. And heavy. The corona of glans is the widest part. So much so, his foreskin has trouble retracting past it. Don’t worry. It’s not phimosis, and it doesn’t pain him in any way.

When he’s entering, his head pops inside suddenly, stretching you for his near 8-inch length. You’ll undeniably feel its weight inside you. The middle of his shaft is quite wide as well, covered in an array of veins.

Hence why foreplay is always a must. No exception. He needs to stretch you plenty and apply enough lube because it’s a lot. If it’s too painful, or you just don’t want him to push all the way inside, he understands. Halfway is more than enough for him to feel pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It fluctuates. Most of it depends on his quirk and work. If his energy/fat is depleted, so is his sex drive. His body mainly focuses on restocking what it’s lost instead of unnecessary matters. During his good weeks, it’s fairly high, especially at the beginning of your sexual relationship. It wants to get as much of you as possible in the shortest amount of time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

While Tai has built up plenty of endurance from his career, something about sex tires him out. It could be the drained hormones and bliss-filled afterglow. It could be the gentle and loving feeling that floods him after watching you orgasm. It could be seeing you so spent and weak that he wants to do nothing but hold and protect you. It’s probably all three. After cleaning up, he loves laying down, cuddling naked while you both drift off to sleep.

#fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum smut #fatgum headcanons #smut alphabet #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha headcanons #bnha

929 notes · View notes

sheraphic · 3 years

Note

hiii could you do one of these instagram things with eve.frsn and harry, i just love her style xoxo ♥️♥️♥️

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

◃────────────────────────────────▹

author's note; hi there anon, sorry for the waiting but here it is your request, hope you like it.

warnings; there can be a few mistakes with the grammar.

「 REQUESTS ARE OPEN 」

It would be wonderful If you ~reblog it~ that help me a lot, it inspire me for write more.

// masterlist //

◃────────────────────────────────▹

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yourinstagram walked all day and couldn't find the rainbow

View all 32,712 comments

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Liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 8,629,820 others

harrystyles In the middle of a rainy june

View all 52,913 comments

yourinstagram all that green and your eyes are still my favorites

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cazoff model material, naturally

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⤅harryfan782 let the boy get wet

⤅harryfan226 @harryfan782 YOU DIDN'T

⤅ynfan335 @harryfan782 this is my favorite comment ever

troyesivan my life is brighter now

⤅harryfan602 @troyesivan we need a collab

⤅columbiarecords indeed

⤅harryfan602 @columbiarecords wait wtf

Liked by gemmastyles, emmalouisecorrin and 5,290,214 others

yourinstagram contrast 🔹🔻

View all 30,171 comments

florencepugh = 💜

⤅yourinstagram :)

harryfan222 omg i get it now

ynfan889 this is so adorable

yoursisterinstagram this is a lot of chaotic energy for my board

yndaily we love their eclectic little world

zendaya big fan of your hair

ynfan022 how can i not love this two weirdos?

harrystyles you said crazy pose, not dramatic

⤅yourinstagram @harrystyles your smile it's crazy delightful

⤅harryfan700 @yourinstagram can i be you girlfriend too?

⤅harryfan191 @harryfan700 same, i fell in love because she knows exactly what she's doing

⤅ynfan748 this man won the best woman ever

harryandyn god, i see what you do for others

charlotteanneclark a mood

harryfan882 i really love that he feels so comfortable with her and their relationship to let us see this.

⤅harryfan525 @harryfan882 ikr he finallt let us see this side of him and I'm an emotional mess

⤅harryfan106 @harryfan882 i think we finally understand that he has a life and can love whoever he chooses

rosalia.vt happy but confused at the same time

harryfan441 ugh, they are so foolishly in love

t_chalament it's a yes from me

⤅harryfan722 timothee represents me

ynfan831 she matches his personality so perfectly

annetwist lovely pics!

⤅ynfan029 she loves her 🤍

Liked by dualipa, harry_lambert and 8,190,644 others

harrystyles The route was traced, the playlist was ready; and even like that we get lost.

View all 76,882 comments

yourinstagram told you to give the map and you said no

⤅harrystyles @yourinstagram I wanted it to be a surprise!

⤅harrynews i can't bear too much cuteness

⤅ynfan551 these two are the only couple that made me belive that true love exists

⤅yndaily ow, an older couple having a disagreement🥺

⤅ynfan670 @yndaily i have high hopes for them getting married

mitchrowland I explained to you three times how the gps works...

⤅harryandyn harry and technology doesn't mix well

harryfan661 @mitchrowland he's a baby, you know?

⤅ynfan771 I'm from the future, and i came here to tell everyone that mitch doesn't know how a gps works either

⤅harryfan880 @yourfan771 I CAN'T WITH HITCH

pillowpersonpp oh, to get lost with great music in the background because your boyfriend it's too stubborn yo let you be the guide... Yes, it happened to me too

⤅yourinstagram @pillowpersonpp i hope god receives us both in paradise for having dealt with these men

⤅harryfan720 stoooooop mitch and harry twins

⤅ynfan182 @yourinstagram you're just a genius with your comments! 🖤

⤅harryfan788 @mitchrowland you gf exposed you, what are you gonna do about it?

⤅lookitsnyoh @harryfan788 the best thing he can do it's to bake some bread for her

helenepambrun so that pic was while you guys stop for indications or...?

⤅harryfan693 HELPPPPPPP

harryfan this it's so harry you can't tell me otherwise

harryfan ok but her dress, the vintage car and the vibe of being lost with your lover-💗 ugh, please leave alone with my singleness

mrbenwinston "the route was traced"

⤅harrystyles It was.

⤅harryfan837 HAHAHAHAHA STOP

⤅harryfan681 all his friends are roasting him lol

⤅harryfan716 he's upset, someone quick give him a lollipop!

⤅ynfan682 i really love this side of his fans

⤅harryfan346 @ynfan682 it has to be this way, otherwise he'll throw a tantrum

zanelowe harry mate, you better start listen to your girl

harryfan380 i'm laughing more than i should, sorry for them, but this it's golden comedy

Liked by harrystyles, jefeazoff and 3,190,644 others

yourinstagram excuse the sunburn

View all 38,672 comments

harrystyles sorry, didn't know the lipstick would be waterproof

⤅harryfan806 did he just say that he kissed her cheeks while wearing lipstick?!

⤅traceeellisross @yourinstagram your boyfriend burned you sweetie haha

⤅harryfan992 i need the name of that lipstick, no matter if i have to give all my money

⤅harryandyn I can't, i just can't stop thinking about harry pecking kisses all over her face

⤅yndaily @harryandyn just thinking how funny It was the moment she realized that the kiss prints couldn't be wiped away and give harry a look like 😠

⤅harryfan714 @yndaily shut uppp! And he just giggling like the fckin demon that he is

harry_lambert ok guys you need to stop because i can't spend the whole day liking all your comments...

⤅harryfan782 then tell them to not be this iconic 🤧

dovecameron it's like seeing an angel in her own heaven

ynfan602 this queen and her eyes are the only reason i'm still alive

reiflerpaige you and italy are old lovers

harryfan503 i love that her hair it's the exact same color as her eyes! It's insanely accurate!

harryupdates you dind't hear this from me, but someone said that harry made that neacklace for her

⤅ynfan101 please don't do this me, i don't have enough tears to express how happy that makes me

⤅harryfan559 I KNEW IT!

⤅harryfan883 @harrystyles do you ship internationally? I would like to order one piece, pretty please 🤍

Liked by arianagrande, annetwist and 7,380,721 others

harrystyles Malva thoughts.

View all 82,110 comments

gemmastyles I'll never share my favorite color with you again.

⤅harryfan733 this is so funny

⤅harryfan892 yep, that's something aquarius would do

⤅harryfan019 @harryfan892 no proof but i have zero doubts

yourinstagram Isn't that my white tablecloth you're painting on?

⤅ynfan129 someone is in trouble

⤅harryfan899 no in a white tablecloth harry!

⤅harryfan782 i can see a storm coming

⤅harryfan673 @harrystyles hey lad, i think they looking for you

⤅harryfan018 @harrystyles that's it, you'll sleeping on the bathtub tonight

zoeisabellakravitz Try periwinkle.

⤅harrystyles It's already in my notes

⤅harryfan820 most iconic interaction

anthonyturnerhair need to know where i can get those flower pots

⤅harryfan675 omg me too!

⤅harryfan772 i bet he has really cool items all around his place

⤅harryfan099 @harryfan772 i bet he was an interior designer on his past life

⤅ynfan681 @harryfan772 those are yn's flowerpots actually and you can find them on amazon! 🤎

⤅harryfan772 @ynfan681 wait, really?? They're sooo cool omg

⤅harryfan388 @ynfan681 so that means they're living together?!

mollyjane_x Prodigy

⤅harryfan819 he can sit on a rock and we'll say he's a fucking legend

⤅harryfan912 where's the lie?

claraamfo music, reading, painting... Leave some for the rest of us, the mortals.

⤅harryfan891 right? It's like, why he has to be so good at everything?

⤅ynfan723 And he's also @yourinstagram broyfriend 😩

⤅claraamfo @ynfan723 that's what hurt the most

sammywitte I never knew you knew how to paint.

⤅jefeazoff leave the kid explore.

⤅harryfan662 hahahaha i can't with jeff's comment

⤅harryfan982 @harryfan662 it's like they just comment to roasting him

⤅harryfan222 @harryfan982 and we are loving it!

⤅harryfan116 true friendship it's this

flammedepigelle inspired.

⤅harryfan671 oh, well...

⤅harryfan927 now e news it's going to write a ridiculous post about a love triangle between yn, harry and sharon

⤅ynfan813 @harryfab927 don't give them ideas! 🤫

⤅harryfan927 @ynfan814 omg you're right, I'm gonna delete it!

jennynails delivery will be this wednesday!

⤅harryfan712 harry's nails will be malva?

⤅harryfan991 omg that's so cute

Liked by tchalamet, zendaya and 4,375,092 others

yourinstagram I'm Malva.

View all 42,713 comments

harrystyles In fact, you're the whole palette, my darling

⤅yourinstagram 🤍

⤅harryandyn he loves his little rainbow

⤅harryfan881 yep, that's my heart full of happiness to see him be so in love with her

⤅harryfan092 she is perfect for him. I mean it.

⤅harryfan330 she will take him to the moon for us.

⤅harryfan445 @harryfan330 and all we can say is thank you to the wonderful yn.

⤅harryfan672 @harryfan330 you should stop with that because it's ridiculous... She already took him to the whole milky way 🌌

⤅ynfan168 @harryfan672 omg i thought you were about to say something nasty about their relationship

⤅harryupdates @harryfan672 we thought that too, we were ready to reply back

⤅harryfan610 @harryupdates to fight back*

⤅harryfan777 @harryfan672 your comment was genious

⤅harryfan672 @harryupdates omg, didn't expect my comment will attract so much attention.

⤅harryfan672 @ynfan168 the only nasty thing i could say about their relationship it's that i'm deeply jealous

yndaily yeah yeah, so cute. When is the wedding?

massimobottura Undeniable expression of love.

⤅ynfan220 now i picturing them eating massimo bottura's delicious food... leave me alone please

⤅harryfan688 @ynfan220 this warms my heart

selenagomez Oh, he draw you ❤️

⤅harrystyles He indeed did it

⤅harryfan672 I can't with this man referring to himself in the third person

⤅harryfan339 @harryfan672 he's a weirdo

⤅harryfan980 thank god it's yn's problem now

⤅harryfan100 we finally can have some peace

⤅ynfan764 good luck honey @yourinstagram

⤅harryandyn this comment section it's gold

glenne_azoff now is when you decided to post in b&w?

⤅yourinstagram aesthetic

⤅harryfan771 I'm laughing more than i want heeelp

⤅harryfan821 @yourinstagram idol

annetwist I will need a copy of it

⤅harryfan111 guys I'm crying and it's just 8am

⤅harryfan337 if queen anne loves her, y'all need to do it as well. No excuses

⤅ynfan008 @harryfab337 has been decreed

harleyweir Didn't know i needed to see this, but I'm happy

charlotteanneclark You two put my expectations so high

⤅harryfan723 someone finally say it

⤅ynfan092 now i need a harry to my yn

spaceykacey lovers in their little birdhouse

tylersamj I see a stubble :)

⤅mitchrowland don't give him hopes, @tylersamj

⤅jefeazoff don't crash his hopes, @mitchrowland

⤅gemmastyles stop defending him, @jefeazoff

⤅harrystyles I want to grow a lumberjack beard :)

⤅yourinstagram we already talked about this, Harry.

– comments have been limited –

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #my wtiting

187 notes · View notes

kcatta-wodahs · 4 years

Text

OM Demon Brothers react to MC in a Depressive Episode

sometimes even a human wants to sleep for 16 hours in a day no big deal

Lucifer

He can’t help but wonder what has happened. For some reason, your every smile has become fleeting. A flash of gratitude, and then your face returns to the blankness that seems to have become normal.

He saw you staring out the window at noon, and walked by again at three to see that you hadn’t moved an inch.

He notices that you look at the clock more often, and once 7 o’clock hits you immediately retreat to your bedroom. He notices that you don’t talk during breakfast or dinner anymore.

When he decides to learn what has happened, he fully expects to have to kill someone. He isn’t prepared to face off the response of “this just happens sometimes.”

He insists you explain. You’re so tired, but you do the best you can. The joy that is in every day just seems so impossible to reach now. It should get better in a week or two.

Lucifer wants to fight against this unseen enemy, but it seems that there’s nothing he can do. You promise to get your chores and homework done as usual, and he has no reasonable reason to request anything more.

So he makes sure you’re still taking care of yourself. If he catches you staring at the wall for hours on end, he gets you water. He draws a bath for you at the end of the day. He provides you with headphones and music to soothe your mind. His favorite tracks for the end of a long day.

He doesn’t pressure you to return to normal, but you can be damn sure he’s watching carefully to make sure to help pull you up when you need it.

Mammon

You spend all day in your room now. Your responses to him on your D.D.D. consist of one or two words.

Has he done something to spite you? Are you pushing him away? One day, after about five full of worrying and trying to come up with the most exciting plans possible to make you want to hang out with him, he demands answers.

He knocks on your door, puffed up with indignation, ready to let you know that you have no right to ignore your FIRST

But all of the fight drains out of him when you open the door and he sees the exhaustion on your face. The blanket that came with you to open the door, and the puffy eyes,

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were sick, you dumbass?!”

You didn’t want to bother him. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and he wouldn’t have any fun with you in this state anyway. And it’s not like you’re sick sick.

He flicks your forehead with a finger and glares at you. He tells you he doesn’t care about having fun or being bothered. You’re supposed to tell him when you need something. Him before anyone else.

You tell him that you don’t know what you need. You can’t get yourself to talk to anyone.

He decides that’s fine and all, but he’s not leaving your side if you can’t respond to his texts, so you better get used to your new roommate until you get better.

You’re worried about this arrangement, worried that he’s overextending himself or upset with you, but those worries get fainter and fainter the longer he hugs you.

Leviathan

He’s seen you stare at the TV for an hour, the background music of the Devilbox 3 playing on a loop. He’s seen you flip between game icons for ten minutes. Then you click on one, and the second the title screen comes up you change your mind and exit the game. He’s seen you do the same for anime to watch, or even taking that long to decide which app to open on your D.D.D.

He hears the long sighs that you give. The ones you don’t even notice from being so numb.

Levi isn’t a stranger to depression. He starts to figure it out pretty quickly.

He offers things that he wanted on his worst days. He holds you and cuddles you, and tells you that you’re perfect.

Whenever your depression convinces you to refute him, he fights it back with loving words and stubbornness. You are perfect, and your brain is just wrong.

When he gets through to you enough to admit that you just don’t have the energy to invest in any games, even the ones you love, he offers to play them for you.

You think it’s a little silly at first, but eventually find that mindlessly watching him try to navigate a new platformer is far more calming than trying to decide on something to do yourself.

You curl up against him while watching him play, and for the first time in several days, you feel a bit of contentment breathe through the numbness.

Beelzebub

Beel gets worried when he doesn’t see you at breakfast. And then he doesn’t see you at dinner. And then breakfast the next day.

For a moment, he worries that you’re actually lost and injured somewhere, but his brothers assure him that you went to school yesterday for sure, and walked home with them too.

Still, he comes to visit you when you don’t come to lunch the next day - on a weekend.

You force a smile for him when you open the door, and thank him for the meal he brought.

He sees that your room is littered with empty snack bags.

“Is that all you’ve been eating?” he asks, gesturing to them.

You quickly apologize and start cleaning them up, trying to sound fine.

“Why aren’t you coming to meals? Did someone curse you?” he asks, bristling protectively.

You’re just not hungry, you explain. Everything is okay.

But the state of your room, the nest of blankets on your bed, that tells a different story.

Beel doesn’t know how to explain what is so clear to him. Something is wrong, but he can’t find the words.

“Can I stay with you, then?”

You are surprised by his words, but he comes over and hugs you before you can respond.

“I’ll bring you dinner. And breakfast. Okay?”

Your heart melts right into his embrace, along with you. You can’t explain what’s going on, but you know this helps.

Asmodeus

Baby. Oh, honey. Darling. It’ll be okay.

He showers you with love and compliments and snuggles.

He treats you to a spa day, and absolutely refuses to hear any protests about how much he’s doing for you.

He insists that it's for both of you, because he would NEVER pass up on a spa day!

Having clear skin helps have a clear mind, he says.

And taking care of yourself is the best way to prove to the world that you are worth it.

To prove to yourself.

He wants you to know that you are worth it. Every second.

And he ensures that you treat yourself.

If you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed, he will straight up carry you into the bathtub.

The way that he cares for you is so gentle and genuine that you find yourself feeling just the slightest bit better as he massages shampoo into your hair.

He will do anything to cheer you up.

Satan

He notices that you’re distracted. You keep looking at your book, sure, but he hasn’t seen you turn a single page.

You explain that you just can’t focus, but it’s okay. This happens sometimes, because you have depression.

He tries to correct your grammar, saying “You feel depressed. Unless you’re talking like Levi’s cheeseburger cats?”

That forces a laugh out of you, even if it’s short. Then you go searching through the shelves sorted as “unread” until you find a lovely thick DSM edition hiding in the psychology section.

You turn to the page with your symptoms, and point to it. Major Depressive Disorder.

“I have depression.”

He stiffens as he reads the symptoms, and looks at you with concern. “You.. feel this way?”

“Most of it. Sometimes,” you shrug.

“What can I do?”

You really don’t know, though. That’s the hardest thing about this.

He spends the whole day going through the list of symptoms and trying to come up with ways to support you through each one.

The amount of care he takes--, making sure to explain that he’s currently working on improving your anhedonia, for example -- doesn’t make it go away, but it does make you feel safe.

Belphegor

He just Gets It.

He's been there.

He will stay in bed with you as long as you want.

But he'll remind you to take care of yourself. He'll tell you to take a shower, or eat something.

He'll be pushy about it too, because he knows that it helps even when you really really really don't want to

If you start feeling self-conscious or like a burden to him, he will tell you to stop listening to your depression brain.

He fights your every insecurity with stories, memories, and firm reminders. If any of this were true, would he be here with you, now?

He never pushes you to lie about how you're feeling, and is honestly probably one of the best people to have around during this time.

He reminds you that it will pass. It’s okay.

#i.. referenced my age #age old memes #but whatever #obey me #obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #bast babbles #my writing #depression #mental health

544 notes · View notes

rataltouille · 3 years

Text

HOUSE PLANTS, UPDATE 7

[novel intro can be found here]

HEY ACTUALLY I FINISHED THIS BOOK!

i don't want to get too sentimental [watch me proceed to get sentimental] but this book means a lot to me and i really could NOT have done it without the support of the wonderful folks on writeblr. the writing community is kind of the reason i even started this novel so it means a lot to me that i’ve met so many of y’all here. this is my first ever novel and i’m so glad i was able to make it so far! here are the final stats:

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 81,049 words.

STARTED: april 17, 2020

FINISHED: january 28, 2021

AVERAGE CHAPTERWISE WC: 3242

NUMBER OF CHAPTERS: 25

NUMBER OF TIMES LILITH SNAPS: 2

NUMBER OF TIMES LILITH SUFFERS: you know it’s too much to count.

the last month of writing this novel was so mixed. like before i hit the 70k mark i’d just been slogging through the novel, feeling uninspired and bored of the story. and then january hit and i was like. wait a minute. my deadline to finish it was the 31st of january. and so i basically startled myself into drafting again and then hit another wc milestone and that motivated me?? so much??? like i remember that drafting the penultimate chapter took me a pretty long time but it was so enjoyable because i was genuinely liking what i was writing and that hadn't been happening for the past few months. and then i wrote the entirety of the last chapter [it’s a vignette so it’s pretty short] for an hour until 1 am in my bed with the lights off and boom. it was such an experience. what makes it even more fun is that i’d drafted 75% of the book in my bed with the lights off at 1 am so this was such a nice full circle moment.

i’m also a little insane from all that lack of sleep but it’s okay we don't talk about that.

excerpts:

chapter twenty-one

this one’s a mix of the weirdest and most broad emotions. there’s a funeral in town, willow’s acting shadier than usual, lilith and juniper finally kiss, etc. etc. literally a rollercoaster. also it’s important that you guys know they kissed in a graveyard. nothing’s more romantic than that amirite.

Residual— that’s how we all felt. Just shells that wash away right before they touch land. We lingered like sleep at dawn, like medicine rimming the lip of cough syrup bottles, like fingerprints on fresh glass. There wasn't a permanence in the way we persisted, because eventually, one leaves their nest. They untether from the source in pursuit of the world. How would a dead girl do that? She won’t reside on the fringes of life like a bad dream.

god this prose is so depressing. even i’m getting sad over it and i’m literally an emotionless husk of a person. hey but the description slaps so enjoy.

also if you’ve noticed i’ve been sharing excerpts less and less in the updates despite the chapters being longer on length [these chapters average at like. 5k words] and that’s because i’m finding it harder to share stuff that doesn’t need context / isn't spoilery.

chapter twenty-two

ah yes the angstiest chapter, probably. something happens to willow that lilith blames herself for and this kicks off the final cluster of events that lead to the climax. i love this chapter because lilith gets angry [but at the wrong person aka herself] and we get to see this side of her she always tries to hide!! another thing that happens is that her garden withers so that’s a fun trip

My garden could have been a fallen kingdom. The ferns were rotting from under the flap, their spores gone. Gardenia blooms had split with their petals discarded like an evening gown all around the pots. The mint had binary fissioned and lay in shreds, the jasmine wilted and spread. All of them like war dolls, casualties of my ignorance, beyond saving.

poor garden :/

chapter twenty-three

this chapter. exists i guess. ISDNJSDUH i sound so disillusioned but essentially this chapter was supposed to end on a the ✨big reveal✨ that the book has been leading up to but then something. happened. and i had to move that into the next chapter and so nothing actually happens in this one! like it’s all important things and we’re setting up tension but overall it’s the least eventful of the final story arc.

We stepped together into our house; it had been abandoned for a day but was the exact same. Dust hadn't suddenly piled up in the threshold, sticking to our soles. The air hadn't musted over in the house’s grieving for its sole occupants. The bathtub was still filled. The water skimmed the floor, and I’d decided. I’d stay with you for the whole week, the fortnight, the month, the year. I’d stay inside with you, because me leaving the house, me choosing to spend any second of my life without caring for you, was a mistake. I’d always seen you as fragile, quiet like moth wings and just as delicate. Maybe I’d needed to feel I was protector just as much as I thought you needed me.

i really like this excerpt because it’s very simple and light in terms of prose but also the implications and that purposeful telling at the end really stick with me. exposing lilith since 2k20.

As morning rose the next day, like a curtain lifting, the sun picked itself up from the horizon, shattering cloudlines in a bright, orange glow. The skies got clearer by the hour as summer sauntered in again. Already the habits of my grounding were kicking in; my circadian rhythm bounded to my outside, too, as I instinctively scheduled and compartmentalized my daily life. First, wake up, check on you. Finish chores while making sure you’re alright. School, eaten with worry, but you're capable and you’ll call if you need help. Home, count your pulse as you inevitably slumped in plush sleep— at the coffee table, at the bathtub, in Aunt Hailey’s chair (rare), in your bedroom (rarer). You’d wake for dinner and read until the lights begin to dim and your eyesight tripped. You’d doze off for the rest of the night. Your internal clock was more functional, more efficient, than mine.

obligatory rhythmic everyday life excerpt that's reminiscent of 2020.

chapter twenty-four

THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER! THE LONGEST CHAPTER!! THE ONE WHERE SHIT GOES DOWN!!! [can you tell it’s my fave chapter]

this took me two whole weeks to draft [it’s around 7.2k words] but it was so enjoyable the whole time!! there’s something so satisfying about making the quiet character, the one who never express anger, finally snap. so satisfying. lilith is actually pretty feral in this and we all stan. it also has a lot of simpler yet more sharp prose? if you know me you know that repetition is literally my favourite device ever. i overuse repetition it’s actually insane. and this one has a lot of that, but in a way that isn't annoying, and i really enjoyed writing it!!

I’d never been in your bathtub before. You haunted the room and it was always yours; I didn’t consider running the tap for myself. Maybe your going out prompted me this time. The water was so high it sloshed over the lip of the tub. The floor was slick like eels’ skin. My skin was blue with cold; the chill gummed my cheeks and ears and I shivered. My reflection stared at me in hatred, the features warped and pulled like taffy. I half-floated, a ghost in liminal space, and the walls were choked with water lines and flower patterns. With my body invaded by alien frost, with the ceiling low and cruel and ready to crush, I cowered. How did you do this every day? Did the clothes make the difference?

lilith’s going through it again ft. willow’s bathtub.

after this it’s a lot of incredibly spoilery stuff!! like the prose slaps but it’s too many spoilers to share. but have another description of the heaviness of midnight because i’m obsessed with that aesthetic

The lock clicked behind me. Silence descended like birdsong and I was paralysed, stuck at the two half-stairs that led to the outer path, stuck at the threshold of no return. My body shook. All around me was nighttime, gooey and heavy. I was unfurling, like a rose, step after step, pushing past the gate and onto the road. The wind was so cold it frosted my tears.

btw the chapter does not end on lilith crying she kind of has a girlboss moment and snaps massively [i mean after all she’s been through she deserves it] and then the main story aka the fictive past ends.

chapter twenty-five

the final chapter, which also happens to be a vignette chapter and is thus set in the fictive present! it’s very short and is only one tiny scene but it really ends on the perfect tonal quality for the novel. i can't share any excerpts because it really is very short so! have this iconic screenshot i took as soon as i finished the draft instead:

[also if you were wondering yes i did type the entire novel [and basically everything i write] on my ipad because i don't own a laptop]

and that really is it! this was such an incredible journey and i’m so excited to share more of my newer writing and upcoming projects with y’all. it feels so weird that this really is the last time i’ll be making official posts about this novel. truly the end of an era.

house plants taglist: @discreet-writer @mp-golfin @jaydewritesfiction @writer-in-monochrome @magnus-s-writes @firesidefantasy @sugarlessbubblegum @theoldcity @n1ghth4wkz @remi-writes-sometimes @suninks @dreamybellatrixanvm @camusbf @fablemancy @isherwoodj @svpphicwrites @spillme @sunwornpages @bijouxs @asadlitficwriter @bookphobe @sirius-xthem @carlyiswriting @hekat-ie

general taglist: @lovingyou-is @haldimilks @andiwriteunderthemoon @coffeeandcalligraphy @shaelinwrites @tuoyu @charles-joseph-writes @eklavvya @wolf-oak @bitterwitchwrites @laughtracksonata @whatwordsdidnttouch @indeliblewrites @thenataliawrites @illimani-gibberish @sienna-writes @jennawritesstories @chloeswords @aelenko @keira-is-writing @cherylinanika @infinitely-empty-pages @jmtwrites @august-iswriting @sarahkelsiwrites @freedelusionbanana

tumblr is being. really really annoying and wont let me edit on the browser so i’ve got the 50 mentions per post mobile thing to deal with. the rest of the taglist will be tagged in a reblog!

#writeblr #am writing #crabappletracking #wtwcommunity #atlastracking #ofcolourtracking #house plants #house plants update #everybody say “goodbye house plants” as i yeet willow off a good somewhere #just ignore how i’ve actually finished the book and this update is a month late please and thank you <3

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flourgirl · 3 years

Text

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment.

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso.

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them.

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back.

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach.

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief.

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it.

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch.

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys.

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it.

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence.

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.”

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening.

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?”

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @parkerlovebot @alytavzla @yourbiggestspiderfan @silentium-tais-toi @jailcalledlife @orangesodafoam @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @spideydreamers @taciturnspidey @harrisonsoceaneyes

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #marvel #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

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pepsicup · 3 years

Text

Chaotic Commentary: We Have Always Lived In The Castle

Welcome to my thought process when I watch movies!

The arrival of a cousin with ulterior motives threatens the claustrophobic and isolated world of two sisters and their uncle. (Oooof, bitch. I already know Sebastian is gonna look damn fine in this movie.)

Watched: April 22nd, 2021

Opening

Alrighty, right off the bat, the opening music giving me very much throwing it back at summer solstice 1531. Might fuck around and show some ankle, who knows

Um miss girl, first off all, i know damn well you aren't wearing a stark white shirt and capris shorts after labour day. And secondly, you gotta work on your self care babygirl, you are looking rough

Okay, so noted; there is clearly something off about this girl because i know when i personally rummage through family keepsakes, i don't have a hannibal look on my face

I don't know if you guys know this but your house...it needs a little 5 minute crafts, diy, extreme makeover: home edition treatment

Ohhhh baddie alert, baddie alert, baddie alert. That chick’s silhouette already got me acting up. Yes sink low to the ground girl, drop it down for me

Short monologue before being cut in half by that creepy ass stare, gotcha. I literally needed more nightmare fuel, thanks bestie

‘A change is coming, and nobody knows it’ how much more change can you get, your house is literally in shambles girl one battle at a time

First Act

Ah, here we are, title screen. Very cottagecore.

Timeskip: What did happen last tuesday, I must know...the suspense is suffocating

I’m not one to judge, but that record doesn’t sound like a life-coaching audio.

Oh heyyy there's a kitty!

Yes hun, that is a working tap, your telekinesis is redundant. Eleven from stranger things eat your heart out.

Alexandra! Babyyy Daddario! Step on my face or domesticate me into a housewife, i beg of you. The uncle tho, he isn't it.

Chill out Mary, you’re just running errands. Why is she walking in a slow-mo naruto run like that. She is giving me a schizophrenic Napoleon Dynamite vibes.

Wait...is her name Meerkat?

Oh, its Merricat...nah i like mine better lmaooo.

Her inner monologue is making cackle because it sounds like a Gabbie Hanna original piece 💀

Okay what i got from the coffee shop scene was Stella is also a grade A baddie, I want to commit double homicide on those two douches, and i want to invite miss meerkat to my lunch table because awwww. She's just different leave her alone.

Wow, the village folk really know how to talk shit huh? Well, I can eat rats like all of them for every meal of the day, plus snackie snacks. Go fuck yourselves, thoroughly.

God that family needs to smoke some weed or something. Why do I feel like the sisters are about to kiss...and the uncle sounds like he means risky business. Very bad vibes here, back to you in the studio.

Ooooh, miss daddy really knows how to roll her tongue huh? Again, very much cottagecore ‘history says they were just really good friends’ aesthetic. And so many bops in this movie, kinda feel the need to throw it back or do the renegade.

Why do I feel like this next scene is just a posh episode of gossip gorl. Sipping tea and spewing nonsense. Rum cake? No thanks, babygirl. Oh but here comes uncle wanky, whisking away Lucille with his talk of arsenic.

Yes. Speak 8 course meal to me daddy...fuck, now I’m hungry. Okay the uncle isn’t so bad I guess, very poetic and philosophical. Yes, very nice. Sucks that he was roofied and turned to a professor X cosplay for solace, though.

Timeskip: Last Thursday huh? We are in for a rollercoaster folks.

*she glares in rhubarb pie and possibly shelved jam*

OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING, I SAW THE SIDE/BACK OF HIS HEAD AND MY HEART STOPPED. He has a very nice shaped head, yes, pleasing to the eye.

Hi sirrrr, I have a pocket full of horses, trojan and some of them used. Pls let me ride you in the little red corvette. Pick me, Charles, choose me, love me.

Real talk, I feel so bad for Mary Katherine (I literally almost typed Gallagher at the end lmaooo thanks molly shannon) she is obviously struggling with something and Constance looks like she is very traumatized.

But I still think there’s something not right about Mary. Miss girl no one walks like that (thats a lie, it would probably be me after a night with Bucky barnes) and I love me a little witchy goodness. But not enough to start locking up my bedroom like it’s Area 51 and having secret rituals at my super exclusive, diy bohemian temple in the middle of the woods.

OH MY FUCKING GOD PLEASE SPARE ME FROM THE FEELING I JUST FELT IN THIS ROOM ON THIS VERY DAY IN APRIL, MAMA FUCKING MIA

when he stood up—bitch I’m gone, I’m his whore now. Sorry, I am owned by this man. Bye I was literally launched off earth for a moment there, kinda chillin’ in dead space, standby.

Okay I took a break for a moment. I’m cool, I’m collected, play button is a go. NOPE, GIRL MY MOUTH IS FOREVER OPEN, AND I DUNNO IF I WAS MY BODY TELLING ME TO KNEEL IN FRONT OF HIM OR WHAT—SOMEONE HOLD ME

Current state: I am hugging my knees and wasting away under my blankets. I paused and played and paused and played because I cant go more than 2 seconds of looking at him.

Okay, I’m all good.

All I keep saying is no...no ...NO, louder and louder every time he opens his mouth, ‘got a hug for your cousin?’ um not a cousin but yes, right bitch for that job present for attendance. Here ✋🏻

Girl I’d run like the wind, too, this kitty isn’t gonna dry itself, nyuuuooom, double time! Fall in, Rogers. Gotta keep up. 🏃🏻‍♀️

Timeskip: Last Friday night, yeah we dance on table tops and we took too many shots, I think I gave Charles a blo-oh-job, whoops—

Ah, see I knew there was something fruity about Charles, hopefully he kisses a boy in this. Would love to see that.

Uh oh, the way he just pops that fruit into his mouth...I fine, I’m totally fine. Mentally I am... the way he chews if making my oral fixation quake

‘now that’s a handsome cat’ sir if you don’t—he wonders why he is such a fucking meme, this is why Sebastian.

‘Jonassss’ which one of the brothers, tho?

Ah yes, the best of friends; Meerkat, Frankie Jonas and a middle-aged Carter Baizen. Ugh mega sad that this is the closest I will get to see Charles pet a puthycat though.

Why don’t you slap my ass like a flapjack pancake, Charles. You won’t.

OMG so quirky 🤪when you steal his shirts 🥺🤪🥰

Who the is venice, Charles? Who, who, what are you, a fucking owl? WHO’S VENICE AND WHY IS SHE YOUR FAVOURITE?! sorry i had to get that out of my system, iconic cinema shall not be overlooked.

all this commentary is fresh from my chicken breast brain by the way

All i heard out of that little inspirational, facebook-esque speech at the dinner table was was shoes. Also peep Frédéric Chopin banging in the background noise, a little Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 to keep party goin’

Charles...that is your cousin.

It isn't a PHASE, Charles. Let him be emo over his dead brother and great tragedy of losing his legs then gaining the likeness of sir patrick stewart. Therefore, he will not forget.

Oh...i’ll sit down i guess.

I COULD LITERALLY—...I could literally watch him eat for the rest of my life pls sir have murthy

Grocery boy...hmmm reminds me of a yee ole jingle i heard in my youth. What can i say, I’m a connoisseur of the classics my friends.

Sidenote: I’m getting vietnam flashbacks to singing ‘carol of the bells’ at the elementary christmas concert. I am overstimulated. And not in a good way.

Charles...do not add that newspaper clipping of your cousin to your personal spank bank, pls.

Timeskip: Last weekend, alright. What did we do; brewski’s with the boys? Hockey night in canada? one legged race? I’m dying to know...

Very nice form charles, you’ve almost dug right through the wood. A real mans-man here if we are being honest. I’ve never in whole life seen a construction crew do better than Charles Blackwood.

I could watch him do this all day.

Pearl necklace huh? Me too, girl.

‘I’m beginning to think, that my spells no longer work’ 8-year-old me, sitting in a bath full of salt and a charm bracelet of rock candy dissolving in the water after my fifth attempt to transform into a mermaid

Aw, but i would sit out there and eat a sandwich with Meerkat. Hell yeah, we can go halfsies on a BLT no problem 😢

oh...

oh no...Charles.

Here is my first sexual grievance, the way he carried that sack over his shoulder, mmm yes i have been fed most wonderful nutrients. BUT NEXT?! THE TWO FINGERS LINE AND THE FUCKING MOTION HE DID AND SAYING SHE WASN’T GOING DEEP ENOUGH PLS

what is with this man and gold...alright debutante Lance Tucker simmer down.

And the ‘hot’ thing, ‘needing a bath’? miss daddy is working it in for her cousin real hard, sweet home alabama all summer long

HEY LET'S ALL GO SWIMMING IN MY POOOL, AND BY POOL I MEAN BATHTUB, AND BY SWIMMING I MEAN SEXXXX--

Oh, so there’s this ominous whistling, nice, a blade kink, cool, and Charles serving body audi audi audi audi all the damn day. Hi sirrrrr. God i just love his chest, man. Its just so buff. He looks this good for what? And in front of his cousin...ew? um child, anyways so

the way my stomach clenched in the most uncomfortable way just shows that my body doesn't care about my comfort when it comes to thirsting and simping. He didnt have to look at her like that or fucking back her out

oh to be a chair...

esteemed audience member sac is a little tired of hearing cousin charles and cousin mary call each other cousin charles and cousin mary

Charles, eat your fruit and shut the fuck up. But also, hi sirrr.

I see you, Constance, I see you...tig ol’ bitties 👀

Timeskip: It’s Monday without the benefit of a sebastian stan, full frontal nude scene...smh

baby, just give up on the step and go fondle some plants please, i’m begging, stop at once. or, i spoke too soon?

If i have to hear sebastian say constance one more time i am going suck down all the arsenic i can find...he just says it so weird lmaoooo i hate it

Climax (make it happen, Charles 🙄)

Aw i love fruity, coffee shop, car men AU’s

that shot of him looking over his shoulder single handedly sent to into a spiral...what the fuck are you doing to me, Charles.

uh oh...one of the car men is madddd

OH OKAY WELL, WELL, FUCK ME, WELL

why dont you just come up behind her and literally growl in her ear what the fuck, Charles. I swear sebastian plays his characters just to make women go feral sometimes.

Sir! Sir! This IS A WENDY’S, SIR, THAT’S YOUR COUSIN--

NOT THE MILK CARTON

PLEASE I’M LITERALLY KILLING MYSELF LAUGHING, WHY IS HE DRINKING IT LIKE THATTTTT

that little ‘aahh’ at the end when he drank it all got me, oh my fucking jesus. Hold on i need a minute, my stomach hurts from laughing my guts out.

Oooof but the eye-contact and the expressions are computing mega well to my chicken breast brain so fanfics will be written and sin will be committed so help me lord jesus on the cross almighty, amen (sorry i’m ex-catholic, its just my go-to)

pfffft that is so iconic, Mary is literally gathering sticks in the pitch black woods while Charles basically puts down his own wood for her sister to pick up on fjgrebgnuierijiojfd, i’m dying

why does he have to pull that poetic, sensitive stud act...just give us the goods charles, slap someone i’m begging you

This is like star wars all over again, they served head-on into on-coming incest traffic

*holds up finger guns* sir, ma’am i’m gonna need you to put your hands behind your heads and get down on your knees exactly 8.92 feet apart, this is a citizen’s arrest

but, i too would like to slow dance and make plans with him. Maybe we’ll go deep in the garden with two fingers on top of the rhubarb, maybe we will commit arson, who knows...

Meerkat continues to be my every mood, she really said:

Timeskip: Oh shit, its tuesday ya’ll, grab your party hats it’s about to get funky

Charles, if you don’t shut the fuck up and stop yelling out her name i will suffocate you between my thighs, electrocute your arm until it falls limp and shoot you with a grenade launcher, don’t make me do it

And yes, am i currently squirming in my seat because of the way he is smoking the pipe and hollowing his cheeks, what about it?

Second Act

Yes baby girl! you trash that room like ozzy osbourne and tommy lee did to that motel on tour in 1982. Go, Meerkat, go!

Charles holding those sticks in both hands is the equivalent to a 1-year-old holding those little cocktail weenies, it has the same energy and i’m dying over it

Try to tell me it's not the same picture:

You can't.

Oh shit, its getting heated now. Mary’s in trouble.

Everything isn’t making sense at the same time its all coming together, i am confused, frightened, a little bit horny, but mostly just entirly overwhelmed. Mom...can you come pick me up, i’m scared.

Oh my god! knew it! i knew i knew the actor that plays the uncle, he's the creepy thin man from charlie's angels! Wowza, what a world.

Oh no...i’m flashing back to vietnam again, the fucking bells dude i’m tellin’ ya. There is so much going on, i feel everything but nothing at the same time, help...

NOOOO HER ARTSY BOHEMIAN WITCH COTTAGECORE JARS! THE OUTRAGE! SHE CANT CAST SPELLS ANYMORE, HER POWERS ARE LOST!

a CURSH! NOT A CURSH!

What in the criss angel mindfreak is going on in here on this day? Who are they? And why is the broad such a bitch...oh is she the mom? My bad. Pops seems nice though. Yes, indeed.

Awh, hiii frankie jonasss. 🥰

Oh here we go with the eating again. If i have to see him flex his jaw one more time i’m gonna go feral. And on the usual, loud and obnoxious noises like the ones he is making when he takes a bite, or chew or swallow food/a drink like the who fucking milk debacle. But he just makes it okay? Maybe its just my eating disorder bias coming into play but how can someone be sexy while eating, or smug? Like huh???

‘Why dont you like me?’ WHY DO YOU CARE CHARLES, GODDAMN IT

Is he playing the sad boi card reallyyy? You want someone to say thank you? Put yourself to good use then. I can think of a lot of ways you can use that mouth better than going on these strange mini-monolgues like some tortured writer with a kink for control...and breatheee

And she’s back with the Eleven telekinesis, sweet kat that is a meer you have running water! Pfft she is actually dressed like eleven too, like what. Oh wait did i just uncover the plot?

Breaking News: Eleven holds a whole town hostage.

Jesus with Charles eating, Mary getting the sudden urge commit arson, miss daddy looking so fucking fine that i would literally throw myself in front of a bus just to get her attention, and uncle X with his weird theatre act: my blood pressure must be through the roof

Wow hes got a temper, but poor connie, shes a hot mess lmaooo

Oh god...oh god okay this is happening, oh wow, you didn't even get through dinner first charles jesus. Listen, i never give choking up on the first date but if i had the chance...i don't want any sausages other than his, i said what i said

and it keeps going?? ummmmmm i ummmmmm, i don’t have words. I was not warned of this savagery and i don’t know if i’m going to be able to write for anyone other than Charles for a whillllleeee, hun, apologies

Good to know he also uses his super soldier senses in another universe to sense a fire deep in his loins like the dramatic king he is

Now he is driving away and laying on the horn, nice

Oh ho ho, yessssss my coffee shop baddie, my black coffee queeeeeennn Stelllaaaaa. She said, Superhero mode real quick.

ummmm uncle x with the sick mustache...thats certain death? I mean if you are into that sort of thing, have at it.

Okay still driving, people are crying over the bed burning into dust, the heavily disable man is still smoking the good stuff...got it.

Big red truck go Honk, Honk.

Oh here come all the old, white men. Lovely.

‘oh-hooo yeah, thats a fireeeee’ as far as old white men go, that was pretty fucking funny to me

Yeah its gonna be in the arms of the angels real soon if you girls dont get the fuck out????

‘We’re firemen’ and i’m a homo, you want a gingerbread cookie or something? put out the damn fire PLEASE 💀

Ummm you’re too late, i was already wet before you got that camera spray shot, dawg, oh but that poor camera guy lol

AND WEI’RE GOONA LETIT BÜRN BÜRN BÜRN BÜRN, everybody its a singalong

hi, yeah...fuck off, jim

NO YOU DUMB ASSHOLES YOU KNOCKED OVER STELLA MY COFFEE MAMA

charles, you greedy bastard i dont know if should be ashamed when i say that i would still let him top me quite violently even still

Wow this rave got out of hand really fast, i blame marilyn manson

another day, another professor X 😪🔫💀☠️🔥🔪 𝚛𝚒𝚙, 𝕗𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡

i swear to go if anything happens to either my coffee mama or baby miss daddy i will reign hellfire.

Oh so it takes a gunshot for Charles to do a 360 running man but not a jay gatsby meets canadian, hockey riot, emo rave. Gotcha. Hes a man with a code.

That’s what you get for hoeing after your cousin, constance. This is all your fault!

Ending

Timeskip: Ooohhh, yesturrrrdayyyy all my troubles seems so far away--

hunny that ain’t the moon, thats your super secret boho alter

Noooo the kitchennnn, that was my favourite room, other than the bathroom for obvious reasons, I hope the milk cartons are okay...👀

I guess meerkat isn't getting her num-nums, and charles is just going to have to live with charred fruit if he decides to come back

FRANKIE JONAS! THANK GOD!

Oohhere'ss the tea, it's about damn time! I called it! I knew ms variant mongoose was the one who did the fucky things! But i was shocked to find out that Mary was the favourite child over connie, hmm very much bad parenting

ooooh, knock knock, is it charlie-boy? oh, thats disappointing, its just that gossip chick and her husband, boooooo

Never again...never. We get it baby daddy.

oh? another knock? HAHAHAHAHA ITS THE FIRE GUY LMAOOO, what a king. He reminds me of stan lee!

What aare these people doing, they aren't goddess you give offerings to so that your crops will be plentiful, fuck off man. ANOTHER KNOCK..

and i opp-- herreeeees charlie!

‘friends’ sir you were halfway in her pantaloons, stop trying to act all innocent, the fuck. Wow hes really going for it huh?

did he just rip the chain off? Oh charles relax, its door, you don't need to moan like that.

Uhm, i love connie, so fuck you charles you twisted, manipulative burnt cornstalk of a human being. Oh yeah throw a hissy fit, that's real attractive, keep going, she’ll totally say yes.

Oh wait NO DON'T DO THAT, NO THAT'S A DOOR. And another door? NO GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BABY DADDY ALEXANDRA, SHES MINE.

YOU LITTLE BITCH BOY, GET OFF! WTF!

*standing ovation* give it up for meer-to-the-kat, bravo kid! OH NO HES DEAd, YOU CAN STOP NOW

hahahaha guess whos deep in the garden now, Charles.

Ooh and we are back to start, nice. Children, she's a seasoned murder, might wanna chill on the whole bit you got going on.

Good, smile andddd scene!

Final Thoughts

Okie Dokie, I actually liked this movie a lot.

The acting was absolutely phenomenal, especially on Alexandra’s Daddario and Taissa Farmiga’s part, the characters were so well played. They focused in on so different points of view in this story that it captured the chaos that they were living individually and as a group under one roof. It constantly kept you on edge with the strange nuances in their dialogue, unnerving pauses and the progression of the condition of each character.

It was great. The aesthetic was there, the small but necessary breaks with dark humour really kept the story flowing and most of all, the fervour. It was everywhere, in their emotions or outbursts like Charles at the dinner table and on the stairs, or the way the townspeople kept adding fuel to their own personal hell. And I must admit, it's hard to make characters like Jim the firefighter relevant, but every person that this story involves has a distinct purpose and significance to the plot.

The only negative thing I could think of was I just wish there was more, I wanted it to be longer so that the small gaps in the movie could have been powerful. Okay, what else. Yes, Charles Blackwood, despite all of...that, will make a great character for me to touch on and has a lot of interesting qualities that I will be sure to tap into. Oh! And the only reason why no one else is getting the stan award was that my coffee mama was the only character who wasn't off the rails or just a terrible waste of human life! We stan!

Hoped you enjoyed this and my questionable thought process, I’m gonna go now...bye lol

Overall Score: 8.5/10

🏆 Honorary Stan Award: Stella Ella Ola, Clap Clap Clap. Periodt.

#we have always lived in the castle #castle daddy #sac reviews

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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@slythnerd this came through as a submission and I can’t seem to write a little thank you fic to it without it trying to alter your message. You are an absolute sweetheart for sending this in, thank you. I’ll be sure to be passing this sweetness on to others and keep the game going. Meanwhile, I think you’ve been reading and commenting on Crest of the Wave over on AO3 (I really hope it’s you, the name is similar and the icon is the same). So, hopefully, that means you’re enjoying the Eskel/Lambert/Cahir relationship developing there (and don’t worry, Cahir has one more bad chapter then it will be on the up for a little while). Anyway, here’s some idiot boys.

They met at a fancy dress party Jaskier was hosting. Geralt had invited Lambert and Eskel, knowing they’d get a kick out of dressing up. Sure enough, Eskel was there as a domesticated werewolf to Lambert’s cheery vampire. It was fun and silly, they were messing around with Geralt (wrapped in toilet paper and calling himself a mummy) when Eskel’s head whipped to the side as he spotted something.

“Well hello!” His eyes were zeroed in on a dog on a harness who was happily sat by a man talking to Jaskier. “I have to go say hello. That’s a German Shepherd.”

Naturally, Lambert followed too, intrigued. If someone was so fond of his dog he brought him to a party, he couldn’t be a bad person. It was probably exactly what Eskel was thinking too.

“Lambert! Eskel!” Jaskier waved at them. “Come meet Cahir.”

“We just had to, especially as he seems to have such a handsome companion,” Eskel replied and offered his hand to the dog who ignored him.

“Please don’t fuss him,” Cahir asked softly. It seemed a bit rude but Eskel nodded with a small apology.

Despite the odd start, the three of them seemed to really hit it off. To the point that they agreed to meet at Jaskier’s coffee shop for a drink. It was within walking distance for all of them and it was a place they were all familiar with. Plus, Jaskier could act as a chaperone of sorts to keep things going well. Because it wasn’t like Lambert and Eskel were very subtle about their interest in Cahir. But not everyone was keen on the idea of being invited into an existing relationship as a third.

On the day of the coffee date, Lambert and Eskel piled into the coffee shop a little early, keen to make a good impression. It also meant they got to watch as Cahir arrived, a dog in tow. Interestingly, Jaskier didn’t even bat an eyelid at the fact he had a dog in his coffee shop which was something he usually didn’t tolerate. In fact, he seemed to pretend the dog wasn’t even there, scanning Cahir’s bottle of sparkling water without so much as a glance to the dog.

“We were expecting one handsome companion,” Lambert grinned. “You brought a friend.”

“Yes, well-” Cahir shrugged and looked at his dog.

As far as coffee dates went, it was easy and great. Eskel did shoot a few longing looks to Diesel, wishing he could make a fuss. But Diesel was aloof and so well behaved, ignoring everything in the cafe that wasn’t Cahir. Maybe, with time, he would warm up to them. Which was a heady thought, the idea of Eskel wanting more time with Cahir.

That evening, he and Lambert had a lot more talking to do and they were both relieved they still very much wanted the same thing - namely, Cahir. So they made plans for more dates which were dog friendly. So they went to parks, to outdoor exhibitions, wandering around town too. Diesel was there with them, stuck to Cahir’s side. He was so well behaved, he was even allowed in shops which impressed Lambert to no end.

The only odd thing was that Cahir didn’t always call him Diesel, sometimes Dizzy which even sounded like Dezzy. It was weird but neither Lambert or Eskel commented on it, just happy that they were getting along so well. They even invited Cahir back to theirs for dinner from time to time. Even there, Diesel sat by Cahir in his black harness, looking regal but still not giving Lambert or Eskel the time of day. They still had hope that it would change.

They were back at Jaskier’s coffee shop, Geralt sitting by the bistro area and chatting while Lambert, Eskel, Cahir and Diesel were sat in a corner, quietly chatting. Of late, Cahir had looked a little more tired and drawn, more keen to stay local for their dates. Out of the blue, Diesel started whining and barking softly, dragging at Cahir’s arm. He was insistent, tugging until Cahir looked at his dog with a sigh.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said and got up, making his way to the counter, Diesel glued to his side, all attention on Cahir. A quick exchange with Jaskier and Cahir was allowed into the staff room behind the counter, Jaskier following him in. Even more bizarrely, Geralt took up Jaskier’s spot behind the counter to serve customers.

A little while later, Jaskier emerged, giving Geralt’s shoulder a squeeze before approaching Lambert and Eskel.

“Cahir’s not feeling great. I’ve ordered him a taxi. He says he’s really sorry to bail on you like this.”

Which was weird as fuck but there wasn’t much they could do. Cahir’s barely touched water bottle sat on the table, condensation dripping down its side.

“Does he want his drink?” Eskel asked, not know what else to say.

Jaskier picked it up with a tight smile. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

With that, he returned to the staff room, leaving quiet disappointment and confusion in his wake.

The next couple of dates were better, Cahir apologised for the coffee shop incident and assured them he was alright with a “just one of those things” wave of the hand. Then he cancelled another date, saying he wasn’t having a good day. It was worrying, especially when he had been looking a little under the weather before.

“Why don’t you come over?” Cahir had asked them. “I don’t feel like going out but the house is getting too lonely.”

With that, Lambert and Eskel had an address, a date and time. The excitement at seeing Cahir again, especially in the comfort of his own home was great. They knocked on the door in the evening and were surprised when Cahir opened the door looking drawn and greasy.

“Sorry, come on in.” He was in a thick hoodie and comfortable sweatpants, Diesel by his side, looking alert.

“You make Diesel wear a harness at home too?” Lambert asked.

“Denzel.”

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a glance. They had been convinced the dog was called Diesel. Maybe that’s why Cahir shot them odd looks every now and then when they talked about the dog. Stepping in, they gave Cahir a hug and, as much as it pained them, ignored his dog. There was a soft, low bark from within the house and suddenly, there was another German Shepherd bounding in.

“That’s Diesel. You can play with him if you want.”

Jaw dropping, Lambert looked between the two dogs. “You had two all along?”

Now it was Cahir’s turn to stare at them like they didn’t know. “Yes? They need time off too. They can’t work around the clock.”

It seemed there was a whole realm of miscommunication and Eskel sank to his knees to greet Diesel who seemed all too happy at the attention. It was Lambert who finally asked in a small, hesitant voice, “Working?”

Looking between Lambert and Eskel, Cahir looked a little constipated. “You did realise they’re service dogs, right?” The embarrassed silence gave more answers than words could have. “Ah.”

What followed was a rather awkward conversation, including moments of embarrassed giggling.

“Did you not see the bracelet I wear?”

“I thought it was some cool piece of jewelry, was waiting for you to explain its significance.”

And, “What did you think happened at Jaskier’s?”

“My initial thought was an affair. Or that you’d shit yourself.”

The bracelet was pulled off Cahir’s wrist, and passed to Lambert and Eskel to inspect. They read the words on the metal in silence. “Epilepsy?”

That all too familiar shrug was their reply. “I was doing okay then got a new doctor who decided that the meds I take were too strong, given that I’d been coping so well of late. So he changed it. Which is why I’ve not been doing so great.”

Right on cue, Denzel yipped and yowled, nudging Cahir’s hand. With an apologetic glance at the two, Cahir sank down to the floor.

“You might want to go into the kitchen. There’s drinks in the fridge. I’ll come grab you in a minute.”

Not knowing how else to respond, Lambert and Eskel walked into the kitchen. One glance over their shoulder showed Denzel bell crawling closer to Cahir and pressing under his hand until fingers curled into the fur on his neck.

That night, Lambert and Eskel stayed up late when they got back home, reading up all they could. There were a lot of questions they wanted answers to, easily admitting that they knew squat about epilepsy other than what the media at large occasionally depicted it as. It was a steep learning curve, one that wasn’t a one night of research kind of thing.

“You don’t have a bathtub?” Eskel had asked one evening, Cahir lying in his lap.

“Can’t exactly use it. Almost drowned the last time I tried to take a bath.”

The first time they saw Cahir have a fit, it wasn’t as terrifying as anticipated. In fact, Lambert felt quite calm, all things considered, as he sat by Cahir’s back while Diesel was at his front and Eskel had volunteered to get drinks. When he returned, he say quietly with Lambert, shoulders pressed together in silent support. It was the first time they sat with Cahir like this but it most definitely wasn’t going to be the last.

#eskel/lambert/cahir #eskel/lambert #lambskel #Lambert #eskel #Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach #service dogs #tldr: lambert and eskel are dumb while cahir has epilepsy

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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 16

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations, Self-Sacrifice, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi

Summary: The Jiang siblings visit the Burial Mounds. Feels are had.

Warning: Involves bugs as food. For Notes, see end.

AO3 link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

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

Lan Wangji is unsurprised, and somewhat relieved, when Wen Qing takes one look at Wei Ying upon their return to the Burial Mounds and tells him to go take a nap with A-Yuan.

His husband had already been swaying dangerously in the Yiling market when they had bought supplies, and had tried to insist Jiang Yanli ride in the cart while he walk, though he had quickly been overruled when Wen Ning, of all people, pointed out they could both ride comfortably if someone had a qiankun pouch for their purchases. Jiang Wanyin had pulled one from his sleeve, one that seemed oddly full, and Wen Ning helped place their purchases in it.

“Get in the damn cart, moron,” the Jiang sect leader said when Wei Ying hesitated.

“A-Xian, come ride with me,” Jiang Yanli coaxed, taking his arm and steering him to it herself.

Wei Ying was exhausted enough to fall asleep on her shoulder, despite the bumpy ride, on the way back, A-Yuan snuggled in his sister’s arms. He doesn’t look particularly refreshed when they have to wake him.

Despite his exhaustion, Wei Ying still tries to argue against a nap, eying his siblings, clearly considering their visit more important than his health. Lan Wangji finds his disregard for his own well-being concerning, but is well aware it isn’t unusual, just something they need to break him of.

“I told them,” he says. “In town. I bet they have questions, and—”

“I can answer their questions, Wei Wuxian!” she cuts in. “I performed the surgery, after all. You’re delegating the task to me and going to take a nap before I bring out the needles—don’t think I won’t knock you out.”

The mention of her needles clearly cows him, but he still seems hesitant.

“It’s our turn to take care of things,” Jiang Wanyin says, not looking at him. “You’ve done enough, Wei Wuxian.”

“More than enough,” Jiang Yanli murmurs, and reaches forward to pull him into a gentle hug. “Let us take care of our A-Xian, hm?”

Wei Ying seems frozen for a moment in the embrace, but relaxes into it. Lan Wangji can see him tremble as he hugs her back, and he knows, for the moment, they’ve won. It’s a small triumph, but at this point he’ll take it.

“Okay, shijie,” he says finally. “Xianxian will take a nap with Yuanyuan.”

She lets him go and pats his cheek in a way that reminds Lan Wangji of his mother when he was very young.

A-Yuan insists on giving his guma a hug before he lets Wei Ying take his hand and lead him toward the cave.

“Go with him,” Wen Qing insists, to his surprise.

It must show somehow, because she sighs.

“I told you when you came: you take care of him. That’s your job. I’ll take care of this—I wrote Jiang-guniang, after all.”

Lan Wangji nods, privately relieved his presence isn’t required for this conversation. He bows to each of them before leaving, including Wen Qing as a thank you even though it makes her huff in embarrassment.

As he takes longer strides to catch up with Wei Ying, he can hear Jiang Yanli speak to Wen Qing in a sweet voice that is likely terrifying up close in how it utterly fails to hide her ferocious protectiveness of her beloved adoptive brother—he mentally wishes Wen Qing luck.

He picks up A-Yuan and gets a startled glance from Wei Ying, who is not quite to the point of barely standing, but close enough that Lan Wangji wraps his free arm around him to steady him as they make their way to the cave.

A-Yuan babbles sleepily about having a new aunt and uncle, having been largely unaffected by the tension in town, and before long they’re both tucked in. Wei Ying doesn’t bother removing his boots, so Lan Wangji does it for him.

Before he can rise, Wei Ying reaches out for him, his eyes half-lidded as he’s already being pulled toward sleep, in what Lan Wangji recognizes as a plea for him to stay, to sit on the bed and let him be close as he sleeps. After the stress of the afternoon on his husband, he is happy to oblige, happy Wei Ying would ask, even silently, for his support.

“I will stay,” he tells him, settling beside him on the bed, letting Wei Ying tuck close and use his thigh as a pillow.

Not to be left out, A-Yuan clambers over them and settles curled between them against Wei Ying’s stomach, his face pressed into the front of his robe as he falls asleep. Lan Wangji draws the blanket up over both of them.

He has used the table near the bed both as a desk and to play the guqin, so it is no trouble to carefully stack the papers next to the bed and slide the inkstone back so he can pull out Wangji.

Wei Ying lets out a soft sigh, the tension leaving his body, as he starts ‘WuJi.’ The song has been a comfort to his husband, he knows, when he himself failed to be, and he hopes to soon work on a new song, something that will capture the joy he finds in their marriage. The circumstances in which they and the people Wei Ying rescued live are less than ideal, and he wishes he could take him from this place of darkness and the memories of the horror he still cannot speak of, but they are together, and that is much preferable to being alone in the Cloud Recesses.

Before long, Wei Ying is asleep, and he segues into songs of cleansing and healing. Without a golden core, without Wen Qing’s needles, the latter has little impact—but little isn’t none, and he is still recovering. Every little bit helps, and after the stress of the day, he helps the only way he can, aside from serving as Wei Ying’s pillow.

He loses himself in the music, coming close to a meditative state as he plays. Time passes like sand through fingers before he hears hesitant steps enter the cave.

Lan Wangji pauses in his playing, recognizing two sets of footsteps, one the shuffling gait of Wen Ning, and the other softer. He is unsurprised when Jiang Yanli is the second set.

He is also unsurprised to see her face wet with tears.

Wen Ning offers her a short bow, then hefts the bathtub from their alcove as he does daily, kindly bringing fresh water and herbs for Wei Ying to use at night. He nods to him in thanks.

Jiang Yanli returns Wen Ning’s bow, and his esteem of her rises—many failed to give that respect to him in life, and more would likely refuse to now that he is a corpse, spiritual conscious or not. But Wei Ying’s sister recognizes him as he is: family.

Though the reverberation of the strings has ceased, the motion of stilling them is a comfort to Lan Wangji as he waits for her to speak. She watches her brother sleep for a while.

“Wen-guniang… She said he’s in pain,” she finally says.

Lan Wangji nods to confirm.

“That he’s been in pain since— since the war, and we didn’t…”

More tears spill down her cheeks, and he knows if Wei Ying were awake he would spring to comfort her.

“He hid it,” he tells her softly. “You could not have known.”

She makes a sound that is almost pained.

“I raised him. I knew something was wrong, and I didn’t—“

Jiang Yanli presses her fist against her mouth.

“I led him to believe I disdained him and wished for him to be punished,” Lan Wangji says.

His failure to communicate had led to the strain of their relationship, to the point where Wei Ying had questioned whether he was still his zhiji, and he will forever regret letting him walk away into the darkness and rain even after that. He empathizes with her completely.

She is silent for a while before she nods.

“Wen-guniang has an idea,” she says. “She said Zewu-Jun pointed out that there is a life debt among our generation. The six of us, A-Xuan, and Nie Huaisang. An auspicious eight. Swearing brotherhood… It could protect A-Xian, and the people here.”

Xiongzhang had hinted at it, and Lan Wangji is glad Wen Qing is furthering the possibility.

“It would tie together the four sects, and the remnants of the Dafan Wen,” he adds, thinking aloud.

“A-Cheng pointed out that the lotus blossom has eight petals,” she says, smiling wistfully. “He and A-Xian used to talk about being the Twin Prides of Yunmeng. It seems almost like a sign.”

Lan Wangji is struck silent at the idea; the eight auspicious signs are almost sacred, and the imagery would be iconic. The imagery was prevalent at temples—the eternal wheel of life, the endless knot, the conch, the parasol, the lotus…

The noble eightfold path, an expansion of the threefold way.

Almost implying an expansion of the Venerated Triad, and associating Wei Ying with the noble path regardless of his cultivation.

“Apt,” he says when he finally finds his voice.

“I’ll talk to A-Xuan,” she says, her voice distant. “I know he and A-Xian didn’t get off on the right foot, but he knows I love my didi.”

“Xiongzhang is bringing Chifeng-Zun and Nie Huaisang to see the settlement after your wedding,” Lan Wangji tells her. “I am certain Wen Qing will broach the topic of a sworn brotherhood with them then.”

Jiang Yanli sways slightly, and he panics for a moment; if he needs to move to catch her, it will jostle and wake Wei Ying, and he needs the rest. But she steadies herself, and he is able to gesture to a chair instead, and she takes a seat.

“Hanguang-Jun, since you are my brother’s husband, I wondered if I might call you A-Zhan.”

The request to use his birth name surprises him—xiongzhang had only requested to call Wei Ying by his courtesy name—but she seems earnest about wanting to welcome him to the family.

“Of course. May I call you… A-Li?”

A smile blossoms across her face, and she nods, looking pleased.

Then Wei Ying murmurs in his sleep and their attention snaps to him. Lan Wangji strokes his hair gently, letting his fingers brush his scalp in a way he knows soothes him. He settles almost instantly, but he doesn’t stop his ministrations.

Jiang Yanli, when he next looks up, is watching with a bittersweet look on her face.

“I used to do that for him,” she says softly, “when he had nightmares. Until he started hiding them.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say, so only nods. He understands her sense of helplessness, knowing Wei Ying is adept at hiding his pain, would still be hiding it if not for having pulled his wrist away a second too late.

“I wish he was coming to my wedding,” she confesses, her voice breaking. “He belongs there. But they’d try to kill him.”

He cannot disagree with either statement. Wei Ying should be there, as one of her last remaining family members, even if he did not share her blood, but it would never be permitted. Not now. Not until the plan xiongzhang implied to Wen Qing is put into motion.

But by then she will be married, the wedding over, and Wei Ying will not have been permitted to attend.

“You have done what you can to include him,” he tells her, hoping to soothe her. “He did not expect this much.”

It seems to have the opposite effect, tears lining her cheeks again.

“He never expects anything of us,” she whispers. “Mother made him feel undeserving, like he should feel grateful for any scrap. I try not to hate her for it, but…”

Lan Wangji can understand how she feels, has seen the marks from Zidian on Wei Ying, still healing when he gave his core to his brother, something he has probably hidden from his sister even through everything. And he knows Wei Ying feels he deserves those marks, believing the fall of Lotus Pier to be of his doing. The emotional damage goes far deeper.

“We can only assure him he deserves more,” he says after a moment. “And be sure to give it to him.”

He has been trying to do so, but it never feels like enough to make up for abandoning him at Qiongqi Path, for failing to join him on the righteous path, even if it is the single-plank one, for making his zhiji believe he reviled him. He understands how Jiang Yanli feels—though perhaps she feels it more deeply, or at least differently, as the person who basically raised him.��

Footsteps approach from the cave entrance, Wen Ning with the tub filled with fresh water, something he has insisted upon doing since it was purchased. At some point during each day, he cleans and fills it, even preparing a fresh sachet of herbs to help Wei Ying recover. Truthfully, even with Lan Wangji’s arm strength he doubts he could lift it as easily as the fierce corpse is able, and he is grateful for his thoughtfulness.

“Than—thank you for waiting, Jiang-guniang,” he says after setting it down. “Popo is waiting to help us in the k-kitchen with preparing dinner.”

Jiang Yanli favors him with a smile.

“Thank you, Wen-gongzi.”

“Ah, you c-can just call me Wen Ning,” he says, looking flustered as he often does when people offer respect to him.

“Then you must call me Jiang Yanli.”

Wen Ning looks like he might protest, but she turns to Lan Wangji before he can, dipping into a proper and respectful bow.

“A-Zhan, thank you for taking care of A-Xian. It is…”

Her voice cracks, emotions nearly overcoming her again. It takes her a moment to recover.

“It is a relief to know someone else is here for him when I cannot be. I entrust him to your care.”

The formality, Lan Wangji realizes, is her approval of their union. Warmth spreads through him at her acceptance.

“However,” she says, a slight smile on her face that is also somehow fierce. “I think you will agree with me that A-Xian deserves a real wedding, at Lotus Pier, as soon as it is possible.”

The image of Wei Ying sitting on a bed in Nightless City in his red underrobes, the joy of his waking mixing with the wish they were wedding robes… that Jiang Yanli wants to ensure they receive that, that their union can be celebrated, if belatedly, in the way Wei Ying deserves to be honored.

“Yes,” he says softly. “I agree.”

She nods, clearly pleased.

“It will happen, A-Zhan; I’ll make sure of it.”

Lan Wangji has absolutely no doubt she will.

She leaves with Wen Ning, and he remembers her intention to cool the soup Wei Ying so loves for the settlement. It will be a welcome meal for them all.

Though he could resume playing, Lan Wangji opts to sink into a meditative state instead, waiting. He doesn’t need to wait long, as footsteps that are almost stomps approach and enter the cave.

He is ready to stare at Jiang Wanyin disapprovingly, but the steps hesitate, becoming uncertain, on the way to the alcove.

“He’s still resting,” Lan Wangji says before he can speak.

Jiang Wanyin’s face does something strange, going soft for a moment as he gazes at his brother and nephew, the top of A-Yuan’s head just visible poking out from beneath the blanket. Then his expression shutters.

“He needs the rest, then?” he asks.

“Mn. He is recovering. He also was giving most of his food to A-Yuan before I arrived. He is finally eating properly.”

The muscles in the Jiang sect leader’s jaw clench, working as though he’s stopping himself from saying something—or, more likely, yelling.

“He always gives too much,” Jiang Wanyin says finally.

Lan Wangji nods; he agrees with that assessment.

“I want to bring him back to Lotus Pier.”

The announcement is unexpected, and he reconsiders his assessment of the man.

“He will not leave these people.”

“I know that. The Wens too, of course.”

“They do not wish to be known as Wens,” Lan Wangji tells him, and watches Wei Ying sleep for a moment to be certain he won’t hear before continuing. “I believe they hope to take on Wei as a family name. They have not broached the subject with Wei Ying yet.”

Jiang Wanyin sits heavily in the chair his sister vacated, sighing.

“He’ll do that thing. Where he belittles himself,” he says, his voice rough. “It’s like he believes all the awful things a-niang said about him.”

Because he does believe them, Lan Wangji is well aware. His anger at a dead woman is unbecoming, but it will likely never fade. She trained Wei Ying to see himself as worthless, as a charity case, when he was one of the best cultivators of their generation. Even without his core, he was still inventing tools to help the cultivation world that slanders and wishes him dead.

“Not that I’m much better. He’s my brother and I fucking abandoned him,” Jiang Wanyin mutters. “And I accused him of abandoning me, on top of it. When—when he left a big piece of himself with me to protect me.”

It occurs to Lan Wangji that perhaps both Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli suffered their own childhood traumas associated with bad parenting, that this is perhaps just a variation of that which has led Wei Ying down his path of self-destruction through giving too much, through not valuing himself. His own troubled upbringing led him to value his clan and the Lan rules over his zhiji, to believe his identity must be tied up in being a perceived paragon of Lan virtue above all else. Theirs led to Wei Ying’s isolation as well.

“You had no way of knowing,” he says. “Now that you know, you are trying to help him.”

What they do now does not absolve them of their wrongs, but it is a start.

Jiang Wanyin’s jaw clenches again, then releases when he sighs.

“I can’t undo the shitty stuff I said to him. You’ll come to Lotus Pier with him, right?”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says, surprised that’s in question. “He’s my husband.”

He receives a nod in response.

“He’ll need bigger quarters, then, for you and A-Yuan. I could give him a-niang’s old quarters, but I don’t know if he’d want to live where she did. He deserves them as my head disciple, so maybe if I remodel them…”

Jiang Wanyin seems to be thinking out loud.

“Wei Ying is still your head disciple?” he asks, having not realized.

“Yeah,” Jiang Wanyin says, then grimaces. “I never took him off the register. Kicking him out was for show, because he insisted. He never stopped being head disciple, but he probably doesn’t realize that.”

He likely doesn’t, knowing Wei Ying. Wei Ying, who still believes himself responsible for the fall of Lotus Pier, for the deaths that were a part of it. Even being head disciple, there will be much he cannot do, lacking a golden core.

“I can help with his duties,” Lan Wangji offers impulsively.

Jiang Wanyin blinks at him, startled, then smiles in a way that makes him look painfully young.

“Appreciated. He’ll… Well, he’ll need help with some of it. At least until Wen Qing figures out a way to help him.”

Lan Wangji realizes the Jiang sect leader is still hoping there’s a solution, that Wei Ying will again achieve the impossible.

“She’s going to make a list of things she’ll need to get started,” Jiang Wanyin continues. “And I’ll work to get ahold of them.”

A-Yuan stirs before Lan Wangji can reply.

“Loud,” he murmurs. “A-Die sleeping, shhhh.”

He wriggles his way out from under the blanket, somehow managing not to disturb Wei Ying as he does, then crawls off the bed.

“Jiang-shushu loud.”

His voice is pitched in an almost theatrical whisper, and Jiang Wanyin snorts in amusement.

“Okay,” he whispers back, also theatrical. “Let’s leave your a-die to sleep and go find guma, then.”

A-Yuan glances back at Wei Ying, then at Lan Wangji, who nods encouragingly. Then he turns back to Jiang Wanyin and holds his arms up expectantly.

Jiang Wanyin stands, pulling A-Yuan into his arms as he does.

“I’ll watch the kid. It looks like everyone else is busy right now.”

Lan Wangji simply nods in response. A-Yuan chatters softly to his uncle as they make their way out of the cave, leaving him alone with Wei Ying.

Jiang Wanyin’s absence is a relief. He finds it difficult still not to resent him for his choice to abandon Wei Ying, for the fact that Wei Ying’s core now rests within him, even for his desperate hope that his brother will somehow heal enough to form a new one. In far too many ways, it’s not enough, just as anything Lan Wangji does now cannot make up for his own failures.

He reminds him of Wei Ying’s mortality, as unfair as that may be.

Resentment will help nothing, may even be exacerbated now by the Burial Mounds, so Lan Wangji works to focus instead on the sensation of Wei Ying’s hair against his fingers, the weight of his head on his thigh, his soft breaths, and he is eventually able to fall into a sort of meditation until Wen Qing comes to fetch them.

“Jiang-zongzhu set up the tablets for the adoption rites, so we can start with those,” she tells Wei Ying once he’s awake.

Wei Ying stares at her blearily for a moment.

“Adopting A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji prompts gently.

Wen Qing gives him a disapproving look.

“He’s very excited, and your siblings can serve as witnesses.”

“Right. Sorry. Been a long day,” Wei Ying murmurs, then glances at Lan Wangji. “It’s still today, right?”

Lan Wangji brushes a lock of hair back from his face.

“Mm. You slept only a few hours.”

Wei Ying melts into his touch, and he leans forward to brush his lips against his forehead. Wen Qing clears her throat and drops a bundle on the bed.

“Your sister also made Jiang-zongzhu go back into town and buy nice clothing for you and A-Yuan for the adoption rites.”

She indicates the bundle.

“So hurry up and get changed. She cooked up a feast, and everyone’s hungry. I think she’s determined to give you a proper wedding banquet.”

Wen Qing, ever brusque, turns on her heel and leaves before either of them can respond.

Wei Ying opens the bundle on the bed, blinking at the high quality clothing. The fabric, at a glance, looks black, but has threadwork in a deep blue and purple. It sends a message from Jiang Wanyin: Wei Ying is of the Jiang sect still. A red underrobe, new zhong yi, a red silk hair ribbon embroidered with little pink lotuses, and even new boots complete the package.

“Aiya, Jiang Cheng… How can I wear these?”

“You were not removed from the sect registry. He insists you are still his head disciple.

“Oh,” Wei Ying breathes, taking a heavy seat on the bed, clearly overwhelmed.

Lan Wangji wonders if he should tell Wei Ying the rest—that Jiang Wanyin intends to bring everyone at Burial Mounds to Lotus Pier permanently when it is feasible. But he will leave that to the Jiang sect leader.

Instead he opens his qiankun pouch and pulls out the light blue robes he arrived wearing, which he hasn’t worn in days. If dinner is in part for them, he should dress appropriately, as well.

Changing takes little time, though Lan Wangji has Wei Ying sit for his hair to be combed and put back in its crown, as it came loose as he slept.

The entire settlement is waiting for them in the hall when they enter, and though only Wen Qing has seen an official adoption rite, she demurs from describing it.

“It was Wen Zhuliu’s, so it feels like bad luck to copy it,” she says when pressed.

None of them argue.

“We should have seen an adoption rite,” Jiang Wanyin mutters.

Wei Ying seems not to have heard, focused on A-Yuan. He takes the child’s hand and leads him to the space where someone has set up an altar with his parents’ tablets, complete with sticks of incense and food offerings: three cups holding tea, water, and Jifu’s fruit wine, plates with small stacks of oranges and sweets. A fire burns in a small brazier in front of the altar, a stack of joss paper set nearby.

For a moment, Wei Ying is completely silent, looking at the altar as though struck.

Jiang Yanli breaks the silence.

“You’ve never been able to venerate them,” she murmurs.

Lan Wangji understands suddenly: there was no place set for Wei Ying’s parents’ tablets at Lotus Pier, and so his husband has never been able to properly pay them respects—cruel, given their bodies were never found to begin with.

“Thank you, shijie.”

His voice is heavy with emotion, and he kneels and gestures to A-Yuan to do the same.

Wei Ying keeps it simple, first apologizing for being unable to do his filial duty for them, kowtowing before them. A-Yuan copies him dutifully, and this receives smiles from the others.

“A-Die, a-niang, I want to introduce my son to you, Wei Yuan. He may not share my blood, but he is your sunzi. I ask you to help me protect and guide him, if you are able. This one will do a better job honoring you in the future.”

He murmurs something to A-Yuan, who bows as best he can.

“Wei Yuan greets yeye and nainai. A-Yuan will burn joss and incense and clean your altar. A-Yuan promises to be filial.”

They light the incense using the brazier, then burn joss together, letting the paper fall into the flame piece by piece.

Lan Wangji longs to join them, to thank Wei Ying’s parents for bringing him into the world, and Wei Ying turns to him as though hearing those thoughts. When his husband gestures, he steps forward to take his place kneeling beside him.

“A-Die, a-niang, I also want to introduce you to my husband,” Wei Ying says, blushing as though they’ve not been wed over a week. “We completed our bows, but not before your tablets.”

They bow together, three times again.

“Fuqin, muqin, thank you for Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, bowing one last time alone. “I promise to honor him, and to protect him and Wei Yuan.”

They burn the remaining joss together, as a family, before standing.

Jiang Yanli rushes forward to hug Wei Ying, who pulls Lan Wangji and A-Yuan into it. There’s a warmth to it that he isn’t used to, his own family reserved, and it surprises him as much as xiongzhang’s hug did.

“Ah, I have a new didi and an adorable zizhi!” she says happily, then pulls at their arms as she releases them from the embrace. “We prepared a nice meal to celebrate, come!”

The tables are covered in dishes, the serving bowls and platters clearly heated by talismans to keep the food at an ideal temperature.

“The guests of honor fill their plates first,” popo says insistently, clicking her tongue when Wei Ying gestures for her to go ahead. “A-Xian is still too thin!”

Wei Ying startles at the affectionate address and she smiles and pats his arm.

Lan Wangji steps forward first, recognizing the futility of refusing popo’s demand. There is a bowl with chili sauce on the table, likely Wei Ying’s favorite kind. The dishes range from the familiar—the lotus root and pork rib soup he was introduced to earlier in a huge tureen, braised pork belly with mushrooms and bok choy, tea eggs, fried radish cakes, baozi, cucumber salad, sautéed dock root and millet with Sichuan peppercorns that would make his mouth numb—to the unfamiliar. He recognizes noodles cooked with what looks like water spinach and shaved carrot, mixed with, upon closer look, crisp-fried silkworm pupae.

He doesn’t realize Wei Ying is beside him until he makes an intrigued noise.

“Where did we get those? Shijie, did you bring them?”

“A-Ning found a copse of mulberry a few nights ago,” Wen Qing tells them. “He brought the silkworm cocoons to the aunties to unwind so we can sell the silk. He harvested the berries, too.”

“We—we cooked them with d-dessert,” Wen Ning adds.

Though he is aware that silkworm pupae are commonly sold at market when silk is harvested, Lan Wangji has never had occasion to try them. Despite the fact that silk is harvested by the GusuLan weavers and used in robes for the clan, the production is kept out of the Cloud Recesses because the cocoons are boiled to extract the intact silk, killing the pupae in the process, and killing any creature, even an insect, is prohibited within the bounds of the Cloud Recesses. Presumably the pupae are sold in Caiyi, but meat is not a staple in his home.

But he was raised not to be a picky eater, and insects are a viable source of protein, something sorely needed by the people living here. Wei Ying seems content to serve himself and A-Yuan a large helping, so Lan Wangji does the same, placing a wide variety of dishes on his own plate to sample, but avoiding the chili sauce for the sake of his palate.

“I put in fewer peppercorns than I usually do,” Jiang Yanli murmurs to him. “I know you like milder dishes.”

He nods his thanks, and lets her press a bowl of soup into his free hand.

She follows him with two more to place before Wei Ying and A-Yuan, then pinches her brother’s cheek as though he’s a child.

“Eat the whole plate, Xianxian, and then you’ll get dessert.”

He is quietly pleased when Wei Ying plays along with a bright smile.

“But what if Xianxian wants more?”

She leans forward and kisses his brow like a mother might.

“Xianxian can have as much as he wants. Popo and Wen Ning helped me cook plenty. And dessert is mulberry millet pudding sweetened with honey, so I know you’ll like it.”

Then she turns to A-Yuan and favors him with the same treatment.

“You too. Eat plenty so you can grow big and strong.”

“A-Die plants me with the radishes so I will!” A-Yuan says proudly, and those within earshot laugh.

Jiang Yanli’s laughter is not unlike the gentle ringing of the bells the Jiang sect wears at their belts. She turns to him, patting his shoulder affectionately.

“A-Zhan as well. Your strength is important. More than three bowls if you want.”

The reference to the rules of the Cloud Recesses is nostalgic, but not in a painful way. It is more a reminder that he will now uphold the rules as he sees fit, now that his home is Wei Ying.

They are surrounded by familiar chatter, the smell of food of a more quality fare than any at the Burial Mounds have had in some time, and the warmth of family.

He hopes this can be the sort of happiness that awaits them for some time.

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

In my culture, generally we don’t eat insects/bugs and often find it intrinsically disgusting. I’ve never eaten insects/bugs. However, my biases are not applicable to the culture I am writing into. My understanding from friends is that there are many insects and arachnids commonly eaten in China. A close friend of mine has eaten ant eggs, grasshoppers, and other insects. Another has mentioned tacos that involve insects as a common ingredient in Mexico. In China, markets often have fried scorpions on a stick, grasshoppers, and many other insects as street food for purchase.

Given life on the Burial Mounds involves a lot of scraping by, I’d imagine some of their meals involve insects, which culturally wouldn’t be unusual. Likely if there were insects in the Burial Mounds, eating them helped Wei Wuxian survive them. They’d be an important source of protein.

While silkworm pupae are often fried in peanut oil and eaten on skewers or like nuts, from my research, my friend believed the dish I concocted in here was believable. (I also researched what the taste and texture is, but decided not to include it.) She also said the dessert of mulberry millet pudding is something eaten in southern China, which I didn’t know—I just knew it sounded like it’d be delicious.

In terms of the millet, meta discussions of MDZS have involved the fact that millet was likely more common (and less expensive) than rice at rough time of the setting, so I included that.

My friend was kind enough to read for cultural sensitivity regarding the auspicious eight, adoption rites, and ancestor veneration, so I hope they read well. This is a chapter I was particularly worried about because of the cultural aspects, and I hope it reads well.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling

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J.J. Abrams’ spy drama Alias, which turns 20 this week, was a lot of things: high-octane action-adventure series, twentysomethings relationship drama, occasional National Treasure homage. It was also, surprisingly, a spiritual predecessor to today’s hyper-saturated superhero movie and TV universes: A preternaturally gifted fighter, Sydney Bristow (Jennifer Garner) inhabits comic-book-esque alter egos to infiltrate secret missions related to ancient artifacts and promised immortality, all while ensuring that her nearest and dearest don’t know how many times she’s saved the world—or which side she’s really on.

Like the series’ MacGuffin-generating Nostradamus figure Milo Rambaldi, Alias has proven to be somewhat prophetic itself about what makes for the kinds of superhero stories that land today. With some 20th-anniversary hindsight, let’s look back at what made Sydney’s story so super and what lessons Abrams’ ridiculous(ly fun) series can still impart to the current crop of superhero sagas.

The Secret Identity as Kiss of Death

The highest priority that spies and superheroes share is that they cannot get made—that is, have their identity as a larger-than-life individual linked to their “normal” selves. They must always keep their personal and professional personas separate, lest they risk losing the people who know both sides of them. Alias establishes this difficult lesson in the first half hour of the pilot, when Sydney reveals her true work (she thinks SD-6 is just a covert branch of the CIA) to doctor fiancé Danny, only for him to blab about it later and get bloodily taken out in their bathtub. It’s the first time that SD-6 treats its sweet protégée harshly, making clear the consequences of her actions should she open up to anyone else in her life. And then she defects to the CIA, which will be a death sentence for her if SD-6 ever finds out.

Yet beyond the specter of grisly assassination, what the series really digs into is Syd’s growing ethical dilemma about being a double agent where it concerns the actually good people at SD-6, primarily her longtime partner Dixon (Carl Lumbly) and sweetly awkward Q stand-in Marshall (Kevin Weisman). It would be too easy if the series were only about her getting long-game revenge on SD-6 director Arvin Sloane (Ron Rifkin); the real conflict comes from Sydney lying to Dixon’s face on every stakeout, knowing that he still thinks he’s working for the good guys and she can’t ruin that fantasy for him without potentially turning him into collateral damage.

Similarly, the moments in which Sydney’s two (or three) lives begin to collide have other heartbreaking consequences: While the scene in which her best friend Will (Bradley Cooper cast as the friendzoned buddy, amazing) gets kidnapped and sees Syd saving him, is one of the decade’s best laugh-out-loud moments, it also leads to Will going into the Witness Protection Program. His life ends, in a sense, because Sydney couldn’t keep everything compartmentalized. And we haven’t even gotten to the awful fate that befalls her best friend Francie (Merrin Dungey)…

What Alias Predicted: The beating heart (or arc reactor) of many a superhero story is this tension between selves—which means that the big reveal of a secret identity has to be carefully timed and deliberately presented. It’s as emotional as Peter Parker’s (Tobey Maguire) mask getting ripped away when he saves the subway car of people in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2, as big as Spider-Man: Far From Home doxxing that Peter Parker (Tom Holland) in a commentary on fake news, or as pure and simple as Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) outing himself as Iron Man in the very first installment of the MCU. You cannot unring that bell, so it better be a memorable moment.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Rev the secret identity stakes back up! Captain America: Civil War ably took on the game-changing Marvel Comics arc of the same name by having heroes collectively unmask, and movies like Spider-Man: Far From Home are still playing out those ramifications. But mostly we see the dangerous ramifications of heroes doxxing themselves, without really digging into the strain for heroes to constantly have to lie about the things that truly matter to them.

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Campy Disguises and Clever Aliases

If you’ve watched Alias or were even vaguely aware of it, no doubt the first thing you envision is Sydney in black leather and bright red hair, a.k.a. her iconic look from the pilot. Her non-SD-6-sanctioned, under-the-radar disguise (impersonating Will’s sister) displays her ingenuity and establishes the series’ brand: attention-grabbing hair paired with increasingly ridiculous outfits, from chain mail waitress ensembles to rubber dresses. She’s played punks, rich bimbos, alluring businesswomen, escorts, and all manner of female personas upon which her marks would project their assumptions—all of which belied her true strength and cunning.

Even when future episodes riffed on the color wheel with teal, magenta, purple, and good old-fashioned blonde wigs, it was still within a clear spectrum established on that pivotal mission, when she channels a silly girl who cares more about the color of her hair than her safety, only to pin her torturer with the same chair to which she’s bound.

What Alias Predicted: I would hazard a guess that Natasha Romanoff’s first appearance in 2012’s The Avengers—a seemingly helpless redhead tied to a chair, about to be nastily interrogated—was a nod toward Sydney’s triumphant pilot mission. What’s more, despite the first ten years of the MCU leaning toward sleek costumes, later phases (like WandaVision‘s cheeky Halloween callbacks) have realized that they can embrace the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Better to lean into the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material than to go for more sleek and cool. WandaVision did this, albeit cheekily and using the excuse of Halloween, but the nod toward Scarlet Witch’s original outfit was well received. Because any superhero can look cool in leather, but only the standouts can rock color.

Rambaldi Artifacts, Immortality, and Clones

While replicating the romantic dramas of Felicity, Abrams was also playing with early iterations of his signature “puzzle box” narrative style: The pilot has Sydney chasing after the mysterious Mueller device, which turns out to be… a floating red ball… which bursts into water the moment she tries to remove it. That head-scratcher of a device is only one of many inventions belonging to Milo Rambaldi, a fictional Renaissance-era philosopher whose sketches and writings all pointed toward the ultimate endgame: immortality. You know, just normal spy thriller things.

The series saw Sydney and co. chasing after all manner of Rambaldi MacGuffins, from a clock to a kaleidoscope to a music box to flowers that either demonstrated proof of eternal life (by never wilting) or amped up human aggression. Through all of this, it becomes clear that Sloane helped found SD-6 in order to collect all of Rambaldi’s artifacts and capture immortality for himself—even and especially at the cost of people like his daughter, Sydney’s half-sister Nadia Santos (Mía Maestro).

Before we get more into Rambaldi’s prophecies about the sisters, we can’t forget the parallel fever dream of the series: clones! Or, rather, secret agents genetically modified to look like anyone—which means everyone is a suspect. This constant paranoia quickly got out of hand on the series, but its first reveal was perfect TV drama: There’s not an Alias fan who doesn’t remember “Francie doesn’t like coffee ice cream” and the complete devastation that followed—the knock-down, drag-out fight that destroyed Sydney’s apartment just as badly as Danny’s death, but also Sydney’s heartbreak upon realizing that her best friend was already long dead.

What Alias Predicted: The Infinity Stones themselves are less interesting than in various superheroes’ personal connections to them: Loki (Tom Hiddleston) tempted by the tesseract in Thor: Ragnarok; Star Lord (Chris Pratt) and the Guardians of the Galaxy channeling their friendship to withstand the effects of the Power Stone; Wanda Maximoff’s (Elizabeth Olsen) stages of grief as she copes with trying to keep the memory of Vision (Paul Bettany) alive even without the Mind Stone. In short: grounding the most out-there plotlines in the personal ensures they will always land.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Ground the most bonkers of plotlines in the personal, and they’ll always land.

The Chosen One and the Passenger

This is when the Rambaldi business started getting less National Treasure levels of charming and more outright weird. Turns out the team wasn’t just recovering a treasure trove of artifacts, but also Rambaldi’s prophetic writings—including the mysterious “Page 47,” which featured a drawing of a woman known as the Chosen One… who bears quite the resemblance to Sydney herself. That would be easy enough to dismiss as a strange doppelgänger coincidence, but then comes the reveal of “Project Christmas”: When Syd discovers that she didn’t just stumble into the spy life on her own, but was actually trained as a sleeper agent from childhood, it only amplifies her fears that she has no true agency over her life.

Further Rambaldi writings center Sydney and Nadia into predestined roles as the Chosen One and the Passenger: supposed foes who are fated to clash, with one dying. Nadia getting injected with “Rambaldi fluid” in order to tap directly into the long-dead man’s consciousness (contained within another artifact known as the Sphere of Life) only earns her some nasty apocalyptic visions. But despite their genuine friendship that comes from bonding over their fucked-up childhoods, Sydney and Nadia are forced into that preordained confrontation when the latter is injected with a compound that reduces her to a mindless killing machine… all while a giant red ball is hovering over a city in Russia, because why not. Even after Nadia dies, and is brought back to life, then dies again, with her ghost haunting Sloane as he finally attains immortality, she remains a presence on the series.

There are certainly echoes to Black Widow and how it handles Natasha and adoptive sister Yelena’s (Florence Pugh) strained reconciliation after the older sister got out of the Red Room while the younger was still caught in its web. Their bickering banter about vests and poses, their differing memories of their false childhood, and their respective feelings of abandonment are what elevated Black Widow’s standalone outing—and made it even more tragic, on multiple levels, that this was the only time we would see the two of them in a movie together.

What Alias Predicted: Sister stories are gold! The Rambaldi storylines would mean nothing if they didn’t hinge on a tragically preordained confrontation, just as the MCU’s Red Room depiction seemed overdone until it was presented within the context of multiple generations’ differing experiences with its bloody legacy.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: More stories about sisters! With Nat dead not long after she and Yelena had just started to bond again, it’s vital that Yelena’s future MCU appearances show her still grappling with the little time they got together.

After all, the best superhero stories are the ones that can feel just as fresh now as they did 20 years ago.

Alias is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

The post How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling appeared first on Den of Geek.

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