#“so I did” be so for real right now Fitz

[heyitsrink]

As I lifted the tent flap, he spoke again. "Fitz. I've really missed you. Don't go. Sleep here tonight. Please."

So I did.

my contribution to @roostercrowned 's Fitzloved fanzine. A lot can happen in between chapters - especially in Fool's Fate.

[samuelsdean]

If you won't do it, I will.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 3.7k

author's notes: another tooth-rotting spencer reid fluff because i said so! you can listen to watch you sleep by girl in red & out of my league by fitz and the tantrums while reading this because those were the songs i listened to while writing this and i think they fit really well with this fic.

THAT DARN SUNLIGHT, YOU SHOULD GET YOUR BLINDS FIXED WHEN YOU’RE FREE—THEN IT HITS YOU. You just got it fixed about two weeks ago. You are definitely not in your room.

Scrambling to get up, you were about to jump off whichever bed you ended up in last night when you felt a warm, lithe arm tucked underneath yours, clasping you in a soft embrace like a lover. Now that you think about it, you could feel this person’s hair tickling your chin and their warm breath against your neck.

This is seriously freaking you out. You have no idea who you are cuddling with. Jesus Christ, how many shots did you drink last night? Why would the team let you go home drunk with some guy? 

Gently, you removed the arm wrapped around your waist and slowly pushed away the brunette positioned snugly between your head and shoulder. No way.

The person you are cuddling with is none other than your genius coworker.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

Like any other normal person would do—no person in their right mind would sleep with their coworkers, literally and figuratively—you checked yourself for any presence of clothing. Thank God, you did not completely lose your mind last night and slept with Reid. But it still doesn’t explain why you were wearing his faded Star Trek shirt and one of his pajama pants.

Fucking hell, did he change your clothes for you? You were ready to catch the next plane and disappear at this point.

You were about to start berating yourself for getting into this mess when you noticed how the sunlight made the man beside you look more angelic than usual.

The sun seemed to caress every freckle on his face, the slight pink tinge from the cold morning air, and his hair—although unruly from the tossing and turning during the night—could pass for that of a shampoo model. Pretty.

And his lips.

They looked even more inviting right now, pink and full and parted slightly, as he breathed in and out small puffs of air, finally sleeping soundly following a week of sleepless nights tracking down an unsub. You roamed your eyes once more on his face, starting from his hair and down to where his upper body was covered by an old shirt and the blanket you shared—forgetting your initial dilemma as to how you ended up in bed with your coworker (whom you have a big crush on).

Thank goodness you did not have sex with the one guy you were practically in love with for years. It would be nice to remember every detail of that rendezvous—if that ever happens. You groaned inwardly. This is not the time to fantasize about your coworker, Y/N! You need to get out of bed and out of his house.

But a part of you longs to keep pretending that this is real. That sleeping next to—cuddling, let us be honest—Reid is a usual occurrence. Pursing your lips, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to go back to sleep. Let the future version of you worry about how you will handle waking next to your coworker. Except you could not.

You wished you could tattoo what Reid looked like in the early morning light when he was asleep and without that crease between his brows that seemed to be etched permanently from all the stress of chasing unsubs around the country.

You gotta admit, some days, you yearned for Reid’s eidetic memory. You wished you could have memories of him engraved in your brain that no matter what you do, you could not help it. He would be there. A persistent thought. But then again, you were in too deep with your feelings for the man that you think, even without an eidetic memory, you could definitely recount all your favorite memories with him in a heartbeat.

So, you chose to stay awake.

This is not looking good for you. How else would you explain to someone—your coworker, of all people—who just woke up why you were staring at them while they slept. God, you are down horrendously.

He looked so peaceful like this. Pink cheeks, freckles, and messy hair. He looked so adorable you wished you could pepper his face with kisses and bury your face in his chest. And he is snoring lightly. He is endearing.

You are never getting another chance like this. This will not hurt anyone, right?

Hence, you took in every tiny detail, every freckle, every mole, and every scar you could see. You committed to memory every inch of skin your eyes could reach before the man beside you woke up. You tried to learn by heart what this man looks like when he is untroubled and at peace—what he looks like in the eyes of his future lover when they wake up next to him because that would never be you.

It would never be you.

And that could happen any day now. Reid was bound to find someone who would love him. He was the easiest person to love. He was not a prince charming nor the male lead of a romance novel kind of guy, But he has this boyish charm.

Let us be real. Reid was probably the most uncoordinated guy alive and the most socially awkward person ever. But you were taken by him. The moment he started spewing facts and statistics about anything and everything under the sun, you were done for.

He could talk to you about why worms were called worms and the probability of people dying on their birthdays. And you would listen to him willingly. You were that taken by him. Not to mention, it does not help your case that Reid was probably the prettiest person alive. Well, not literally, but he was that close to being the prettiest person—in your opinion of course.

He had messy, brown curls that looked like they barely experienced the touch of a comb, but you knew they were soft. You knew because every time Reid did something endearing—everything he did was endearing, for you—you always ruffled his hair. This would make him grumble about how he had to fix it again and to which you would reply with a cheeky, You know what a comb is? And Reid would roll his eyes at you.

He had hazel eyes that reminded you of a puppy dog. They were mostly brown with a tinge of green. Most days, it reminded you of being cozy, drinking hot chocolate by the fire. They looked like you were coming home. They always looked like they were pleading for you to stare at them. And you admit you have lost count of the many times Reid had to flick his fingers in front of you with a matching Earth to Y/N and a mini history lesson starting with a Did you know that the history behind that phrase comes from science fiction movies showing people on earth sending messages to people in space?

And Reid always wore the fluffiest cardigans and sweater vests, reminding you of your teddy bear collection at your childhood home. It was crazy how if you saw anyone else in the law enforcement track having the same fashion sense as Reid, you would probably think of them as ridiculous. He wore a pair of black converse sneakers, among other things. For heaven’s sake! Come on! You have to go after seasoned criminals—you at least have to look the part. Right? You have to look imposing and menacing to intimidate them in interrogation rooms. However, the teddy bear look—as you’d like to call it—works so well for Reid. 

What is more, is that Reid fits your ideal type. He is probably the poster boy for it. Ever since you were never into the macho guys and their big muscles. No offense to them because those are their bodies. They look good, but you like your men a little scrawny. You liked lean and really tall men. And Reid is definitely that. He may have failed his fitness test a gazillion times, but the man was in no way, shape, or form, unhealthy. He had the right muscles at the right places and besides, he literally goes after serial killers. He is fit alright.

Lost in your thoughts, you were damn near ogling the man beside you and ended up looking fixedly at his lips. You always thought he had kissable lips, minus the fact that it is probably because you were practically in love with the guy.

You wanted to kiss him so bad it is killing you right now. But in your good conscience, you couldn’t and you wouldn’t. You were completely aware of Reid being a germaphobe, and he has mentioned countless times, kissing is more hygienic than shaking another person’s hand, kissing a sleeping person was out of the books for you. One, the person couldn’t consent because they were unconscious. Two, you were not his lover. Kissing him while he was asleep would be a violation to him. Not to mention, unwelcomed and creepy as hell. Imagine waking up and someone has their lips slobbering your face. Icky!

You were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing.

And he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

“If you won’t do it, I will.”

You froze in place.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, you rushed to leap out of Reid’s bed—almost toppling over on the floor in an unladylike fashion. You probably would look worse than Reid when he was huffing and puffing during his last fitness test mandated by the bureau.

But before you could jump out and run away from the man beside you, Reid had all but effortlessly pulled you towards him. You ended up burying yourself into his chest face first as you clutched his shirt to break the fall. It is not even 8 am in the morning yet, and you have managed to embarrass yourself enough for your parents to cut off all ties with you. You would rather dig yourself a hole to die in than be here.

Knowing you have nowhere else to escape, you believe it was time to lie on the bed you made. Sluggishly, you pulled your face away from the lean chest you descended on and peeped up at the angelic face you’d been staring at for the past hour with a sheepish smile.

“H-hi, Reid!”

This is just pure torture. Reid probably knew why you looked like an actual tomato with how red you are, at this moment. He is smiling at you like a cat who ate the canary as he suppressed a laugh.

“I didn’t know you had a clumsy side to you, Y/L/N,” Reid snickered.

What?

“What?” You frowned, which made Reid chuckle some more, shaking his head.

“Nothing,” you scrunch your brows as you tilt your head in confusion, “You just seem so formidable on the field and interrogation room. I’d hate to be the one you’re tracking down,” Reid responded.

“Oh, um,” you grinned as you thought of the perfect rib for the man in front of you, “Just because I’m an FBI agent doesn’t mean I can’t be uncoordinated every now and then. I mean, I know plenty of agents who are quite the klutz on the daily,” you peered at him while he gawps in protest.

“Hey!” He argued, scowling at you.

God, he’s endearing.

“I didn’t mention any names,” you chortled, raising your hand in defense, which made him roll his eyes.

You cracked up at his juvenile actions. In turn, Reid smiled in amusement.

God, you can’t believe that you’re laying on a bed beside Reid. With Reid—like it’s an everyday thing. The smiles. The banter. The laughter. This is crazy. You could get used to this. Sleeping next to him and not just next to him—like the ones you have during your cases where you get to be roommates. No, sleeping on one bed, next to each other. Waking up next to each other. Hearing his gruff morning voice.

You could get used to this.

You can’t.

You shouldn’t.

Reid is your friend. A coworker. You shouldn’t be fantasizing about sleeping and waking up next to him, that is unprofessional. Not to mention, you would be breaking one of the golden rules of the bureau. Never fraternize with a fellow agent on the same unit. 

Seemingly lost in thought, you retreated from the man beside you, as you grimaced.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Reid,” you smiled glumly, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you patted his cheek gently.

“Is this about you waking up in my bed? I swear no—”

“I know, Reid,” you sighed, “You would never hurt me. I was drunk last night. I’m sure you brought me here because you were too tired to take me home. We just got back from a case and I shouldn’t have drank a lot of shots after all the sleepless nights,” you were slowly sitting up now, “But thank you, Reid. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always, Y/N.”

This made you smile.

Trust Reid to always make your heart flutter at the tiniest gestures. He’s probably the most genuine and compassionate person you know. It breaks your heart every time you remember that his actions might make you feel butterflies in your stomach, but he does them not because he sees you romantically—he just does them because that is just how he is—caring.

“I’m gonna get up now,” you muttered.

“So, that’s it?”

This made you pause.

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, to which he scoffed.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“No, I really don’t, Reid,” you scowled, growing irritated at this whole situation, his riddles, and him, for being so perfect, “So, you better tell me because you scoffing at me is slowly infuriating me.”

“You spent an hour, eighteen minutes, and thirty-eight seconds watching me sleep,” Reid shared as matter-of-factly, as if to say "You aren’t slick, Y/N, " which made you sputter in indignation. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Reid would be considered by the Guinness World Records as the first omniscient person on earth with his brilliant mind. The man has an IQ of 187 for Pete’s sake!

“If that doesn’t tell you anything, then I don’t know what will,” he finished.

“First of all,” you started, “I did not watch you sleep.”

This made the man raise one brow at you. Liar.

“Second of all, if I did watch you sleep and you felt it,” you continued pointedly as if to tell Reid you weren’t watching him sleep. “Shouldn’t you have called me out on it? Why did you let me be then?” 

“I don’t know. Okay?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You pushed, crossing your arms.

“I woke up just a few minutes after I felt your stare,” Reid began rambling, “Did you know the reason why we feel someone is looking directly at us is that we have this system called the gaze detection system? I woke up a few minutes after I felt you staring.”

You smiled fondly at the man prattling facts from the back of his brain. This was your favorite version of Reid. The one who knows anything and everything under the sun and can probably talk about them if you asked him to. But right now, you have had enough of that. You won’t allow him to distract his adorable babbling from knowing why he let you stare at him.

Maybe he shares the same feelings with you.

“Reid,” you exhaled, “that still doesn’t explain why you let me watch you sleep.”

This made the man’s cheeks start dusting with pink. You were aware of the fact that it should have been the questioning done the other way around. You literally breached his privacy in his own home but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to know if he feels the same way as you. You wanted to know everything now rather than later. You know you’d probably get rejected but you wanted to get it over with.

“I wanted you to kiss me.”

This made you gasp, eyes widening—you think they were about to come out of their sockets. Reid blushed some more with your shocked expression. 

“I didn’t know what to do,” he continued explaining, “so I pretended to be asleep but I wanted you to kiss me. I thought that you would kiss me but you didn’t. So, I waited.” He looked down at his lap and bit his lip.

With your initial shock wearing off, you practically looked like a wild animal pouncing on the bed. Reid yelped at how quick you moved from where you originally stayed put. Without further ado, you reached for him. Thumbs caressing his rosy cheeks, you stared at his hazel irises.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked gently, wanting to be sure that he wants this just as much as you do. Before you could say anything else, Reid pressed his lips against yours.

As soon as you felt his lips against yours, your eyes closed. His lips were warm and soft—a little chapped but you didn’t mind. It feels perfect against yours. You didn’t want this to end but you want to see him—feel more of him. So, you did. You buried one of your hands in his curls as you caressed his chiseled jaw. Warmth blossomed in your chest as you realized you were kissing the guy you’d been pining for years and he is kissing you back.

You could taste your shared breath and feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks. He tilted his head slightly in the opposite direction and nudged his nose against yours as your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

You wanted to open your eyes. You wanted to see the faint constellations on his face, admire the slight scrunch of his brows when he’s focused—you had a feeling after this kiss is over, being with him won’t be as easy as it was before. You would be ruined knowing what it was like to kiss him. But you were so tired of longing for him. And his mouth was the softest mouth you have ever kissed. And nobody has ever kissed you like this before—loving and warm.

You didn’t stop kissing Reid until you felt like you were running out of air from running. So, you held his shoulders and distanced your face from his. He tried chasing your lips but you dodged him. Instead, you looked down at your lap. You felt your tears and willed them to not fall. Not here, not now, not in front of him. You wouldn’t want him to pity you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Reid placed his warm hand against yours, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” His thumb caressed your hand soothingly.

“That’s the thing, Reid,” you explained, looking up at him right now as he flinched, noting the tears glistening in your eyes, “Nothing’s wrong. The kiss was perfect. You’re perfect.” You could see his shoulders sagging in relief after what you said. “And because of that, I can’t just pretend that what happened was normal because it isn’t. I know it won’t happen again so I can’t get used to it. And you know I’m not the type to kiss someone unless they mean that much to me.”

You were about to explain some more when you felt Reid pull you. You gulped when you felt the tickle of his breath in the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I really like you, Y/N. If it isn’t obvious,” Reid muttered shyly, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now.”

“Oh.”

If this was difficult for you, it was difficult for Reid as well—if not more—to be vulnerable about his feelings. You knew about how difficult it was for him growing up, being the only twelve-year-old prodigy in a public high school. He’s been through so much with his dad leaving and having to take care of his mom. He’s never had a proper experience with just about everything from making friends, being a normal kid, and in this case, harboring romantic feelings for someone—you.

So, you did what you thought could convey that the feeling was mutual. You gently wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his brown locks. He smelled of crisp pages of a book with a hint of pine. If you thought your favorite version of Reid was him rambling about facts and statistics, you’re probably going to give that version a run for his money. Because this version of Spencer Reid right here—the one who chose to be vulnerable, the one who chose to open up to you not knowing if the feeling was mutual—is probably your new favorite version of him.

“If it isn’t obvious to you, Dr. Reid,” you began, “I’ve liked you for quite some time now too.”

With that, you pulled him away from being tucked into your neck and kissed him again. You felt him grin widely, as you showered his pretty face with pecks, and you could not be happier. Before you could shower him with more kisses, Reid started spouting statistics about office romances.

“One in ten heterosexual couples in the United States meet at work.”

“Lucky for us,” you said as you tried to bury your nose in Reid’s neck, which made him giggle. "We are that one couple in the BAU. Now, shut up, so I can kiss you some more.”

This made Reid guffaw.

You couldn’t be happier waking up next to your coworker.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Full of Green Teaness

Sheridan Le Fanu: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the tale of the new drug scourge that's sweeping the nation, seducing our youth Le Fanu: you know what i'm talking about King: Poe: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Le Fanu: i'm talking about green tea

Barker: wait wait wait Barker: green tea? Le Fanu: yes Barker: and that's the street name for.... what now? Le Fanu: green tea Barker: hahahaha Le Fanu: THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER, CLIVE

Barker: ooo yeah i'm real scared of green tea Le Fanu: THIS IS SERIOUS, CLIVE Barker: hahaha Le Fanu: if you drink too much green tea, you could manifest an evil monkey! Barker: AHAHAHA!!!! Le Fanu: STOP LAUGHING!!

Le Fanu: STOP LAUGHING! Poe: clive Barker: oh come on edgar i know you're scared of monkeys but this is ridiculous Poe: i'm not scared of monkeys Barker: [whispering to King] he's scared of monkeys Poe: I am NOT scared of monkeys

Poe: i am not scared of monkeys, clive stop spreading rumors King: actually clive's right, you did write that story about the scary monkey Poe: that was an ape Barker: [whispering to King] he's scared of apes Poe: I AM NOT SCARED OF APES EITHER

Le Fanu: look, the simple truth with green tea you don't know if you're getting a pure product Le Fanu: they cut it with baking soda, borax, rat poison Le Fanu: here, look at this video of what happens to a cop when he gets green tea on his skin

Le Fanu: you drink green tea and an evil demonic monkey will attack you! Lovecraft: Le Fanu: and drive you to suicide! Lovecraft: Le Fanu: also, it's sold by the chinese Lovecraft: [sweats] THE CH-CH-CHINESE?!?!

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Barker: sheridan was just telling us about the dangers of green tea Le Fanu: [playing piano] Le Fanu here Le Fanu: i want you to learn a song that'll teach you to say no to green tea

Le Fanu: [playing piano] users are losers and losers are users Le Fanu: SO DON'T DRINK GREEN TEA! DON'T DRINK GREEN TEA! Shelley: Shelley: hey how bout you tell that story about the lesbian vampire?

Le Fanu: Don't let green tea make a monkey out of you!™ (paid for by the partnership for a green tea free america) Barker: King: Lovecraft: Poe: Koontz:

Shelley: ffft i'll drink green tea if i fuckin want to Shelley: i'll drink it right now Shelley: who's got green tea? Fitz James O'Brien: i got some right here Shelley: hand it over [drinks green tea without breaking eye contact with Le Fanu]

Le Fanu: noooo! nooo! the monkey!! think of the monkey! Shelley: i ain't scare of no monkey Shelley: i'm not edgar Poe: I'M NOT SCARED OF MONKEYS Barker: [whispering to Shelley] he's scared of monkeys

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 66: Fitz's Fire

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, depression, past abuse

October 1925

Fitz was exactly where he should be, and yet he was still uneasy.

He used to think that time and distance would surely make his need to be near Lex fade, but instead he'd found that a vampire's feelings rarely change, especially when it comes to the things they desire. Despite the fact that he lived an ocean away and had met no shortage of desirable vampires, the remainder of his heart still burned for Lex and Lex alone. Too often, he would lie awake at night, pining uselessly for a beanpole vampire with a mop of messy hair and the smell of books about him.

It probably didn't help that Lex had the ability to pop into his mind whenever he felt like it. It wasn't often, as he clearly didn't want to abuse it, but he was always there in the corner of Fitz's mind, a presence that both gave him comfort and drove him mad.

The only thing that actually eased his desires was to be near the real thing, a sadly infrequent occurrence. Right now, Lex had Fitz tucked into his right side, humming gently, a song that had no real power behind it but filled Fitz with warm contentment. They'd already put the thralls deep asleep and turned off the gas lamps, to have some privacy while enjoying the thralls' warmth and presence.

Roger, the poor man Fitz had saddled with keeping him more or less functional while he provided blood and comfort, was safely nestled into Lex's left side. He looked so peaceful, and he deserved it after that hell of a boat ride. Really, Fitz didn't know what he'd do without his faithful thrall.

And Oliver, delightful Oliver who was as warm and sweet-smelling as a loaf of fresh baked bread, was resting on Fitz's lap, a sleepy smile on his face as Fitz aimlessly played with his hair. He was perfect, and Fitz would find it hard to leave him behind at the end of the week. At least he knew that Lex had something good in his life for a change.

Everything was just how Fitz wanted it to be. He should be happy. But he couldn't be happy knowing how fleeting it all was, knowing the reason why it was so fleeting.

Oliver was part of what made him uneasy. Not the boy himself, of course, but now that Fitz had seen Lex's new thrall for himself, he could clearly see why Lex was so terrified for him, why he'd been fretting in his letters and losing sleep. The Maestro would want this thrall. Oliver wasn't safe. And it was a constant grim reminder of when Fitz had been a thrall, helpless against the Maestro's powers and his training and his discipline and his enthrallment…

The ticking of the metronome that haunted him always seemed to grow louder when he was visiting Lex.

"What's troubling you?" asked Lex.

"Nothing," he said, not wanting to spoil the moment any more than he already had. "What could possibly be troubling me when I'm surrounded by my favorite vampire and my favorite thralls?"

"Fitz. You know that I can tell."

"Yes, yes, no fooling you," Fitz said. "It's this thrall of yours, for one thing. I'm not sure if I'm jealous of you for having Oliver all to yourself, or jealous of Oliver for having you all to himself."

"You could have both him and me to your heart's content, if you stayed."

He always did this. He always tempted Fitz to stay even though he knew very well why he couldn't. He worried that one day his desire would outweigh his slowly fading memories of his torment, and he'd cave to Lex's temptations and stay, and pay for it dearly when he ended up under the thumb of the Maestro once more.

No, never again.

"You know I can't stay this time. My ticket home is in a week."

Lex at least had the grace not to press further. "I know. But it's never enough."

"No, it isn't."

They sat in silence and gloom. Fitz wanted so badly to tear up his ticket home and say yes. Stay here in Lex's bed, live a carefree life of lounging and traveling and theater, all his insistent needs finally fulfilled.

But even in his dreams, it couldn't last. Cold hands gripped him to drag him away every time. He could practically feel the shackles on his hands, his knees sore after hours of kneeling, his stomach protesting his starvation. And he could hear the things the Maestro would whisper in his ear when he was enthralled and helpless, the words that would never leave his head…

"What if I told you that I'm working on another plan to kill him?" said Lex.

"You are? What are you going to do?" He didn't want to let himself hope. If Lex tried this and ended up in the dungeon again, Fitz knew he'd be too much of a coward to save him. "I thought you said there weren't enough hunters still to try it again."

"For this plan, I'm only going to get one hunter."

"One hunter. One single hunter. Against your sire."

"It's a rumor I've been investigating." Lex was fiddling with the seam of Fitz's undershirt. "She's a hunter who is also a witch. She's killed a number of vampires in the area, and even managed to steal a thrall from Evelyn's manor. They're saying that she has a magical means for resisting even strong enthrallment. Someone like that might stand a chance against him."

Fitz laughed.

"What's funny about that? I'm serious."

"Oh, I know you are. It's just that when I'm away from you for too long I start thinking of you as a stuffy intellectual, and I forget how crazy you can actually be."

"Is that intended to be a compliment?"

"It's absolutely a compliment," Fitz insisted. "Only you could hear a story about a hunter that resists thrall, a dire threat against your own life, and think about how you're going to use the situation to kill your sire."

"It's the only way I can have you back for good, isn't it?" said Lex with startling sincerity.

Fitz hated this, hated that visiting Lex always came with the overhanging threat of Lex's sire, and that the only way they would be free would be for Lex to do something reckless that would probably end in his torture. And he both loved and hated that Lex would do it for him, that he hadn't simply given up after all these years.

"So how are you planning to catch the hunter you can't enthrall?"

"I think her threat diminishes significantly if you already know her trick. If I can't use my voice, I'll go straight to overpowering her physically. I can handle one hunter if I have the advantage."

Fitz pinched his thin bicep. "With these noodle arms?"

"Yes, with these noodle arms. I am still a vampire, you know."

"All right. And then what? What do you plan to do with an angry hunter in restraints that you can't calm with a musical number?"

Lex's tone shifted in the way that indicated he was about to launch into something personally interesting. "Over the past few weeks, I've been doing lots of research on witches' spells against vampires. There are wards, charms, rituals, potions… some more effective than others. But the key is that all of them seem to be temporary. Charms can be taken, potions wear off, rituals fade. So once I have her captive, I just have to wait out or break her guards, and then, she'll be under my power as easily as any human."

"But once you've removed her protection against enthrallment, she won't be any better than a common hunter when it comes to fighting your sire."

"That's why I'll get her to tell me how to perform the same trick that she does," said Lex. "I guard myself. I visit my sire, bait him into punishing me so that he gets close, not knowing he has no actual power over me. Then I kill him swiftly, before he can suspect."

"You're going to kill him yourself?"

"I've been thinking that I'm the only one who can really do it. It has to be me."

"…You may be right about that."

Lex was so determined. Fitz hadn't seen him like this since he was a thrall, and he knew exactly why, the answer lying in his lap. Lex's desire to kill his sire had been stirred up because he couldn't bear to see his sire laying his fangs on his new thrall.

Oh, he was definitely jealous of Oliver. Oliver might get the protection that Fitz didn't. Oliver might not have to have his mind and spirit shattered.

That bitterness wasn't fair to Lex, he knew. Lex had tried his best, ensorcelled and mobilized an entire vampire hunter's guild for Fitz at great personal danger. And if the roles were reversed and Oliver were his, or if Roger were the one threatened, he'd surely obsess over how to save them.

It still stung. A part of him, buried deep inside, still wanted to be human, to be Lex's thrall again. He wanted to experience the sheer bliss of the feeding, even knowing it was all artificial happiness from enthrallment. He wanted to wind back the clock and for Lex to succeed at protecting the human he was, so he would never have had to give up food and sunshine, never have to move overseas, never feel parts of himself being carved away.

Fitz pet Oliver's hair and watched his chest rise and fall. It was far too late for Fitz's humanity to be saved, but Oliver was right here, and he deserved to be spared.

"You're awfully quiet. It's worrying me," said Lex. "What do you think of my plan?"

"Inoculating yourself from enthrallment and killing your sire?" said Fitz, leaning against his shoulder. "What could possibly go wrong? I can only think of several dozen things."

"It will be different this time. It only involves me. If I fail, I'll be the only one who is punished."

Lex was fooling himself if he really thought that. He knew very well what failure meant, that Oliver would be taken and broken as Fitz was. But then, he was always too fond of doing everything himself.

"You won't be the only one. I'm helping too."

"Fitz, no. I know you can't handle any more punishment."

"What I can't handle is for another attempt to fail and dash our hopes," said Fitz, unable to contain the ugly bitterness within him. "What I can't handle is being apart from you all of the time, jumping at shadows, terrified that your sire is lurking even when I'm half a world away. What I can't handle is knowing he's tormenting you and Oliver and being unable to do anything about it. I want to erase him forever. I want to forget he existed. I want to live without the knowledge that he's coming back for me someday."

"Fitz…"

"I'm helping you. The more help you get, the better your chances are to actually succeed. I need to increase the odds."

"…Thank you."

Fitz played with Oliver's hair, wishing he truly felt as brave as his outburst implied.

What if he came to help Lex, but froze in terror again when confronting the Maestro, dooming the plan to failure and himself to an eternity of torment?

What if Lex failed, what if he were dragged back again and starved and beaten, and Fitz could feel the suffering through their shared connection and do nothing about it? What if Lex failed, and Oliver was ground into dust, a mindless shell of the delightful thrall he once was?

What if Lex succeeded?

What if Lex succeeded and they both got everything they ever wanted and it still wasn't enough? What if their triumph didn't quell the void in the place where Fitz's heart used to be? What if Lex killed his sire and he still wasn't happy? What then?

"It's been bad, hasn't it?" said Lex softly, pulling Fitz closer.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Everything's been fine."

"You clearly haven't been taking care of yourself. I can feel it, you know."

"That's awfully rich coming from you, especially after you tell me a plan that no one with self-preservation instincts would consider."

"That's different."

"It's not."

Lex's voice rose in frustration. "I just want you to talk to me!"

Oliver stirred, a frown marring his sleeping face, and Fitz put a hand to his cheek and soothed him, easing him back to sleep.

"It's just…" Fitz struggled to put the twenty competing trains of thought in his head into one coherent explanation. "Where is all of this leading, Lex?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean… you warned me before turning me, but I didn't understand then. I do now." He rested his head on Lex's shoulder. "Everything's so hollow, like I'm a mannequin playacting at being myself. Like I left my soul back at your sire's manor, and since then, I've just been a doll. Just like he wanted."

"Fitz…"

"I mean, what's the purpose? At least when I was human I had some fire inside me. Now…"

Lex cupped his cheek and directed Fitz's gaze toward him. "We'll get your fire back."

"Tall order, don't you think?" said Fitz, trying to pull away, but Lex stubbornly held fast.

"We have to, because I can't bear you leaving me, not for good," said Lex. "I'd rather have you as a vampire than not have you at all."

"And is that supposed to --"

"And I don't think you're a doll, playacting. I know things haven't been good, but… I'm going to fix it. I have to." Lex swallowed hard. "You're still my sunshine."

"Sunshine kills us."

"Then that's how I would choose to go. As long as I don't lose you. I need this, Fitz." Lex gestured towards Fitz and the thralls cuddled close to him. "I need all of this. I need it. I think I didn't realize how much I needed it until I acquired Oliver, and now with you here… I can't bear my sire taking the things I need, not any more. I have to end it. I will end it. Can you wait for me, Fitz? Just a little longer?"

The truth was that Fitz would never find himself free of Lex, no matter how far he went or how much time had passed. And he didn't truly want to. Nights like this, satiated with delicious blood and curled up next to his vampire, almost made him feel like himself again.

It almost quelled the voice of Lex's sire whispering to him that he would never be loved because he would never be perfect.

"I'll wait. You won't lose me. You'll be stuck with me for the rest of your existence."

"I hope so."

---

Oliver woke up slowly in the gloom, something he was getting used to, and reached over to the nightstand to light a candle. His master was still asleep, and Roger was curled in one of his arms. Oliver couldn't help the pang of jealousy, tempting him to return to bed and latch onto Alexander even more tightly.

The rumble of his stomach won out, so he'd have to be content with the half-remembered glow of the previous night, how much the vampires had clearly appreciated his service and his blood. He'd been completely gone, floating in utter bliss, and almost certainly making a fool of himself. Well, if he had made a fool of himself, the vampires didn't seem to mind.

It was that thought that made him realize that Fitz wasn't in the bed. Oliver remembered waking up with his master's friend clutching him to his chest and nuzzling his hair, putting Oliver right back to sleep when he stirred. He must have left without Oliver noticing.

He may as well continue on with his morning routine. Since he'd started sleeping in Alexander's room more often, he'd taken to using his master's extravagantly spacious bathroom to freshen up. Alexander's floral soap was a nice and perhaps indulgent touch to his morning hygiene, the scent a constant reminder of his master. Once he'd washed, it was time to go downstairs and make his breakfast.

He lit the gas lamp only to be startled out of his skin by a figure sitting at the kitchen table. It was Fitz, who seemed equally startled, fumbling the deck of cards in his hands. "Jeez, Oliver, you're quiet, aren't you? I would have had a heart attack if I still could."

"Sorry, sir," he said automatically. "I was frightened, too."

"I can see that," Fitz said. "Well, don't mind me, go ahead and make your breakfast. I assume that's what you're here for?"

"Yes, sir." Oliver regained his composure and pulled out a pan and some eggs, all too aware of the eyes on him. Fitz was staring at him, or perhaps through him, gears turning in his head as he frowned. He couldn't help but fret that he'd somehow offended his master's lover. "Is everything okay, sir?"

Fitz snapped out of it. "Oh, yes. I just couldn't sleep, that's all. Nothing you've done wrong."

"That's good to hear, sir." Oliver cracked a couple of eggs onto the hot pan along with a pat of butter. "Did I serve you well last night, sir?"

"Excellent, couldn't ask for better," said Fitz with a grin. "I'll be sure to tell Lex that you deserve top marks."

"I'm very glad, sir." Pleasing Fitz would no doubt please his master, so Oliver was determined to welcome him warmly, despite any lingering jealousy he had for Fitz and Roger stealing away Alexander's attention.

Thinking about the prior night… there was something that Oliver had intended to ask Fitz, but he had spent so much time utterly enthralled that his memories were foggy. It was important, though. He had to try to remember.

"So how do you like being Lex's thrall? I asked that last night, but you were rather indisposed at the time. I'd like to hear your coherent answer," said Fitz, propping his feet on the table.

"Alexander is a wonderful master, sir. I've found I'm very content to be a thrall." He realized that he wasn't just saying that to mollify Fitz, but that it was primarily true. If it weren't for the terror and uncertainty surrounding Alexander's sire, he would have adjusted nearly entirely by now, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

That thought jarred loose his memory though. "Um, sir, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Shoot."

"Back when you were about to drink from me, sir, you said something odd."

"You're going to have to narrow that down. I say plenty of odd things."

"I suppose so, sir," said Oliver. "It was when my master made a comment about another thrall he had, and you said something like 'surely I was never like this.' I hope this isn't impertinent to ask, sir, but were you also a thrall?"

Fitz laughed. "Most vampires were thralls. Did Lex not tell you that I used to hold your position of honor?"

Oliver fumbled the spatula he was holding. "You really were Alexander's thrall, sir?"

"That's right," he said with a grin. "I know, I know, it's a lot to live up to."

Oliver was reeling. From what vampire lore he knew, vampires created other vampires, often from lovers or companions or servants, so it made sense that Fitz was once Alexander's thrall, but it also opened up a whole host of questions. "What was it like for you, sir?"

"Well…" Fitz seemed unsure of how to answer. "The answer to that could probably fill one of those enormous tomes Lex is always reading. But you can probably guess part of it from the fact that I keep returning to Lex again and again."

"He was… I mean, did he… was he the one who turned you into a vampire, sir?"

"Yes."

"But why, sir?"

"We had plans. They didn't work out." Fitz pulled a quarter from his pocket and flipped it into the air. "Why do you ask? You want Lex to sire you, too?"

It wasn't something Oliver had given serious thought to before, and a cold chill ran down his spine. Even if he had immortality and supernatural powers, the thought of having to feed on human blood to survive… "No, sir, I would strongly prefer he didn't. I mean no offense, but I wouldn't want to be a vampire."

But if it were something Alexander wanted… if he had sired his previous thrall… would Oliver actually have a choice in the matter?

To Oliver's relief, Fitz smiled. "That's good. Keep that attitude. I can pretty much guarantee that Lex wouldn't want to sire you anyway. Trust me, you don't want it."

"Did you not want to be a vampire, sir?" The question came out of his mouth before he realized how invasive it was.

"Now isn't that just the question. Well, there are worse things to be," said Fitz with a shrug. "I think you should definitely stay yourself. I think Lex thinks the same. Any other personal and awkward questions you'd like to ask?"

Oliver could tell it was sarcasm, but couldn't resist taking the opportunity. "If I may, sir… why do you live overseas when you and my master are…"

"Oh, that's an easy one. It's so I don't run into Lex's sire."

"You moved overseas just to avoid my master's sire, sir?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir," said Oliver with no hesitation.

The kitchen door swung open, and a disheveled, yawning Roger entered. "Good evening, Master, Oliver," he said. He squinted at Fitz. "You didn't sleep properly last night, did you, sir?"

"Of course I did. Why would you say that?"

"Because you're never awake before me unless you haven't been sleeping, sir."

Fitz made a dismissive hand gesture in his general direction. "I'm trying to enjoy my time here to the fullest. I can sleep when I'm back on the ship."

"I only wish that you could sleep on the ship, sir," said Roger with a deep sigh.

"Would you like an omelet, Roger?" Oliver asked. "I just made one for myself, with ham and cheese."

"Yes, thank you, that would be perfect."

"That would be perfect," Fitz echoed. "Give Roger something to do apart from scolding me."

"Someone has to take care of you, sir."

Oliver couldn't help but think it was strange that Fitz was so casual about having a thrall when he was a thrall himself, but asking that question with Roger there would have been an awkward bridge too far.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Next week, Fitz puts on a show.

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[crescentpaws]

unprompted anti keefe post because i remembered this quote just now and got unnecessarily mad about it again. almost every reason i have to hate keefe can be seen in this quote from legacy btw:

“Isn’t this the epic showdown you’ve been planning where you order Tammy Boy to kill me? Thanks for the warning about that, by the way,” he told Tam. “As you can see, it worked super well.”

“keefe can keep a secret if it’s actually important” no the fuck he can not. this quote just proves how little he actually cares for other people. tam risked SO MUCH to pass along that warning to sophie, and keefe just casually mentions it in front of gisela. i can’t tell if he’s just really stupid or if he genuinely doesn’t care about the very REAL and very LIKELY possibility that gisela would literally kill tam for that. keefe casually decides to possibly condemn someone to death just to have a moment where he can tell his mom “i already knew what you were planning all along btw! lol! haha!” god he’s a fucking idiot.

then he has the nerve to say “as you can see, it worked super well” as if keefe didn’t SPECIFICALLY CHOOSE to ignore the message????? acting as if it’s tam’s fault that they’re in this position???

i get he uses humor as a coping mechanism, but all his comebacks to his mom just seem so stupid considering he is fully aware of what she is able to do. even if he knows she won’t hurt him, she is fully willing to hurt his friends. which he never seems to care about (unless it’s sophie, because for some reason sophie is the only person that matters to him. but clearly not even she really matters or else he would stop betraying her trust over and over and over again.)

reminder that the only reason they’re here is because sophie knew if she didn’t take keefe to london he would go by himself btw. which is just so. UGH. it’s not her job to be his fucking babysitter. how is that a healthy relationship

and then keefe has the nerve to be mad after tam escapes with gisela. like, you know, the literal exact same fucking thing he did with alvar in lodestar. except in keefe’s situation, he wasn’t a prisoner. he wasn’t wearing special bonds made of light that restricted his power. tam actually had a reason to go back with gisela. which keefe never did with alvar. but it’s ok! he’s allowed to be mad because it’s his mom! he’s allowed to be mad at everyone if they focus on the bigger picture instead of what will stop making him feel sad right this second! it’s ok for him to be mad because his mom is evil! but it’s not ok for fitz to be mad about them letting alvar go! because that’s different for some reason! trust me guys!!!!!!!!!!!

and don’t even get me STARTED on the final battle scene in loamnore. keefe is just so. oh my god. he’s so fucking aggravating. literally the whole group’s plan relied on the fact that keefe WASNT going to be there. he literally PROMISED he wouldn’t show up and try to take things over (like he always does). i seriously have no idea how sophie ever trusts him again after that. that would be my final straw. all he’s done is prove that no matter how much he swears he’s telling the truth, he’s just a manipulative liar 👍 it shouldn’t be sophie’s job to be constantly monitoring keefe to make sure he doesn’t do stupid shit like this. she shouldn’t have to be using her energy 24/7 worrying about what stupid thing he’s going to do next. that is not a healthy relationship.

and what do you know, keefe arriving at the scene was exactly what the neverseen wanted! gisela got to do what she was planning from the beginning!! and keefe acts like it wasn’t ENTIRELY PREVENTABLE.

god he’s just so stupid i don’t understand how any of these characters are able to remain friends with him. but whatever. keep glorifying his shitty behavior i guess.

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

What Gatsby musical do you think is best?

The Great Gatsby : A New Musical

Gatsby : An American Myth

And depending on which you pick, why did you choose that one?

I have been outspoken in my criticism of The Great Gatsby: A New Musical to the point where it's kind of marked me as an asshole to fans of said musical, but I'm not backing down. Read my opinions boy

No, but seriously. Let me begin by saying that I came to this point already worn down by so many heartless, obnoxious, cash-grabby adaptations of prior works (Mean Girls, Beetlejuice, Heathers, etc) that bank almost entirely on nostalgia and spectacle and, in some cases, the unknowing of their YOUNG target audience, in order to blind said audience into just calling the music a bop and moving on.

And I'm tired of it. Yes, I'm aware musical theater has always run on adaptations—Chicago and Little Shop of Horrors are among some of my favorites! But I approach every single adaptation of ANYTHING with the same baseline question: is this adaptation justified?

You could take the very moderate opinion of "having more musicals to listen to is a good thing!" but I think that's naive, and falling right into the trap set by creators who are only here for Lin Manuel-level Tony's and that's it. There's no dedication to actually making something new with something already established. Nothing transformative. It's lazy.

That's what I mean by 'is this adaptation justified'. Does the adaptation in question engage with the source material in a way that refreshes it, dives deeper into it, and takes advantage of the new method of storytelling (in this case, from book to stage musical) to showcase how the new method of storytelling benefits the source material? Like in the case of Little Shop of Horrors, it uses satire to highlight deeper issues that are barely skated across in the source material while also pulling forth factors of the source material that were more relevant at the time when it was released.

I for one am exhausted by adaptations at this point. It's always been a backbone of musical theater but now, even outside of theater, we are awash in them. it's been said before that pretty much everything you see now is a remake or an adaptation or a sequel or a prequel or a cinematic universe or something derivative, and that tends to punch down on the smaller, more creative, original ideas that might've flourished if the market wasn't oversaturated with mass-produced corporatized shiny flashy garbage.

This is where the two Gatsby musicals come in.

If you're here, you know that I...dedicate a lot of time to this novel. I could have gone to college and got a degree with the time I have spent on this novel and its study. Unraveling every single sentence, every character motivation, every real life factor that plays in to Fitz's writing of the novel—every draft, every movie adaptation. The entire history of this novel and its creation is carved into the inside of my skull.

Now, one thing you should know about gatsby is that Fitz wrote it when he was just coming off the massive failure of his play The Vegetable. That's not the full title, but I'm not going to bother typing out the rest of it. Because it was bad. It was not good. No one liked it. So, naturally, Fitz wanted to improve on his playwriting skills. Up until then, he was good at short stories and he was good at long, descriptive novels, but he couldn't quite understand how to condense and reformat his novel-writing style into something more like a stageplay.

Gatsby was sort of his attempt. You'll note that Gatsby is only 47,043 or so words, which is less than half of most of his other novels. The action and dialogue are snappy. There is, shockingly enough, less purple prose than prior releases (in spite of Nick spending 23984798347928374 words, approximately, to describe his new neighbor's smile). Scott was trying desperately to pare down his writing and see if he could slowly shift his formatting toward something that could translate to the stage.

Many of you know that The Great Gatsby was a total major uber flop.

There went his dreams of making this a play. And there have been many attempts since, all with very limited success, because for the most part, there is a total lack of understanding concerning what makes this novel a novel instead of play material. All too many times, there has been a disconnect as to what would translate effectively onto the stage as it is written in the book, like the themes of being dazzled by a spectacle but not, as displayed in the novel, the downside of such a thing.

As I said. All too often, there is too little thought given to the advantages of adapting a written work to musical theater. This leads to much of the deeper shades of the story being left to the wayside in favor of shallow spectacle just to keep the masses entertained without actually translating the stunning symbolism and figurative work Fitz put on the page.

This is what happened to The Great Gatsby: A New Musical. They took the most barebones understanding that most viewers would have of the story (that it's a love story, just like Romeo and Juliet!—side-eye), and made everything as loud and as fast and as bright as they could to make up for any lack of exploration beyond what is very plainly written on the page.

This does not work with The Great Gatsby.

I've mourned the gooberfication of Nick Carraway before. I love the 2013 film, as I'm sure many do because it was many of our first experiences with any Gatsby adaptation, but you can see it with Tobey Maguire and you can see it here in The Great Gatsby: A New Musical. So many times I see people call him an unreliable narrator but it's very clear they don't understand exactly why he's unreliable.

This 'gooberfication' I speak of is Nick's attempt to convince us that he's the innocent one here, in every single situation, and everyone around him is a liar and he's always telling the truth so you can trust him. He's the only honest person he's ever known.

Red flag central.

So from that line alone, you have to understand that everything Nick says or does, leaves in or leaves out, is suspect. He's out of his element in New York but he is absolutely not some baby-cheeked little goober who is SO TOTALLY BLINDED by his infatuation with Gatsby that he's just willing to go along with everything and doesn't pass judgment. We joke "Nick says he doesn't judge anyone then proceeds to judge everyone in the novel!" Yeah, no shit. That's the thing. He is a hypocrite made only lesser by the way he plays up the evils of everyone around him, and that's how he gets by. That's how he sleeps at night.

You can cast that into whatever light you like, whether it's the hypocrisy of saying he's so poor when he's living in at LEAST a two bedroom cottage with a maid and modern appliances and his dad is paying for a full YEAR of his life after paying his way through an Ivy League school. Or you could say he does this to throw suspicion off himself and possibly his sexuality, which is a whole can of worms involving Fitzgerald's constant projection onto his characters that I cannot bear to crack open.

Point being, Nick isn't just the passive bystander in all of these situations. He makes it sound like he is, like he's just doing favors for people who are worse than him, and how he disapproves of even everything Gatsby does despite his evident fascination with the man, but at the end of the day, he's just passing the buck. Washing his hands clean. There are so many clues in the book to this sort of thing that should tip you off to the fact that Nick Carraway is not just some silly sweet guy who gets swept up into a life of chaos and crime just to come out cynical. He was already a judgemental, cynical individual who was forced to come all too close to the realization that he, too, is more 'one of them' than he can bear to admit—even in spite of how he attempts to obscure his own hypocrisy.

Nick is not innocent. No one in this book is (besides Pammy, though she's a ticking time bomb if we're meant to understand the wealth she will inherit). That's the whole point of the fucking book. There are a thousand hands each pushing a tiny bit to keep these impossible shades of class division moving, and condemning one person (like Nick does with Daisy or Tom) doesn't solve the problem. Jay still dies. The American dream is still a nightmare. Nick still has a father to fall back on.

Which is why it's so impossibly perplexing to me to display Nick as some sort of lapdog who just seems honored to spend time with these people. Why Jay is just some quirked up white boy who is, quite literally, just too quirky and obnoxious to bear. He and Daisy are so in love and they're so close to each other and isn't it just tooooo saddd to bearrrr?? So romantic????

There's nothing deeper to it. No asking why Fitz wrote any of these characters the way he did. No understanding of the deeper implications of what he was trying so desperately to convey, on both a social and personal level. Yes, it's a love story, but it's also a commentary on just how fucked everyone is by the cages of tradition.

And there is just no trace of that in the Broadway musical. Everything is simple and easily digestible. There is no deeper interaction with the source material, no drive to have produced it at all except, perhaps, to cash in on the new public domain. They got the biggest names they could with the biggest cult followings, knowing so many would just eat it right up and call each song a bop and it would trend on tiktok and they might get a tony and then they'd move on. No integrity. No passion. No justification.

Gatsby: An American Myth is much the opposite.

After hearing a Totally Legal version of the Broadway musical, I was terrified of what ART would do to this book. Now that I had seen just how fearfully easy it was to just slap some 'art deco' and glitter on the stage, write a painfully obvious love song, and move on, I was really concerned that this trend of bloodless, toothless adaptations would continue and I'd have to sigh and move on with my life.

Fortunately, everything I mentioned that bothered me about the Broadway musical is set right in Gatsby: An American Myth. I really should have expected nothing less from Florence Welch in terms of the music (which is, of course, one of the most show-stopping elements of the musical, as it should be) considering her prior works and how they relate to the Great Gatsby. This is someone who has been obsessed with the book longer than I have been and has woven it into so much of her body of work that I'm surprised this musical didn't drop the day it became public domain. I cannot think of a better contemporary musician to handle that facet of a Gatsby musical.

This adaptation itself does exactly what I would have hoped. I am, of course, someone who holds the book and all its drafts to a very high regard—if this is a religion, that's my bible. What's in there, goes, though it's open to interpretation. Typically I would be against adding things at all.

What they added, however, was brilliant. Nothing massive—just, again, ways to take advantage of the musical theater method of production, and ways to modernize and acknowledge more contemporary understandings of the source material. Where the Broadway musical carefully tiptoed around any indication that nick was anything other than straight and in love with Jordan Baker, Gatsby: An American Myth leaned right into the idea that he was made an outsider by his sexuality, and that was part of why he related to Jay so hard. Because otherwise, why would he? He's a middle-to-upper-middle class Midwesterner whose father is paying for a year of his life while he works a little for-fun job in the big city. What does he know about being an outsider?

Gatsby: An American Myth shows you that. Shows how everyone is an outsider to each other in this story, and how individualism destroys a community that would otherwise support you. You can take that on a society-wide level or personal: Jay being totally disconnected from even himself, or the wealthy pretending they don't live on the same planet as the poor.

Another miraculous addition was a sort of bridge between Myrtle and Wilson that just makes sense. I don't want to spoil it too much, but everything they added or rearranged or re-highlighted just goes to display the depth and breadth this story really reaches. They read between every line, proudly displayed the complexity of every single situation and character—how all of them are the victim and all of them are the perpetrator—while STILL making it sound fantastic in my opinion.

It's by no means a flawless work and I saw it early on its production. It's changed since then and obviously I haven't been able to hear it since I saw it live, but I have total faith in the creative team to have not completely thrown away their good intentions in favor of trending on tiktok.

To conclude I would just ask anyone reading to please inspect the media you consume. Inspect the motives of the person feeding it to you. There's not really any sort of Nobility to art, but at this point, with so many shallow attempts to cash in on our desperate search for community and contentment, quality and passion have been thrown out the window. Shoveling this hot shit at us day and night (remakes, sequels, prequels, adaptations) has become another tool of capitalism to keep us just satisfied to not ask for more.

Ask for more. Ask for better. You deserve it.

[dragoncookies]

About Chapter 43

So, this just a quick little comment I have about the “you kissed him, you didn’t even kiss me!” statement Fitz made. 

Fitz was so mature during this scene. He was completely under the assumption that Sophie still liked him romantically, and thought they were working to make the relationship work. Then, surprise! Sophie comes out and says she not only has feelings for Keefe, but kissed him and now has an arguably more defined relationship with Keefe than Fitz did for 3 books. (no sophie hate here, just Fitz’s perspective). Sophie herself still wasn’t even 100% sure she was completely over Fitz in this chapter, so her starting something with Keefe was NEWS for Fitz, to say the least.  

Personally, I would be flabbergasted. The situation is almost comical. It feels like Fitz got pranked. So when he went,

“I mean...you kissed him? You didn’t even kiss me!”

The notion that it could be perceived as immature went right over my head.

I actually laughed when I read him saying that because it’s true. It’s so realistic and on brand for Fitz’s character. It was kind of, to me, a funny way of writing Fitz reaction to the news. It felt light hearted and made the scene a little less grueling to get through. It just makes me chortle for no reason every time I think about it.

I don’t believe it was immature to say, either. I believe it was just a genuine reaction. Fitz is characterized as VERY blunt, to a fault, and speaks whatever is on his mind. So, this statement was probably just him trying to make sense of what was happening. I don’t think it was meant to be taken very seriously, or have actual meaning behind it.

Honestly, it was what I was thinking during the chapters following the kiss scene up until this point. Maybe that’s why I brushed over it. Could it be perceived as trying to guilt Sophie a little? Yeah. But what else was he supposed to say after Shannon described the hurt and devastation in his eyes? “That’s unfortunate, but I definitely don’t care about how quickly you moved on from me to Keefe”. NO. Fitz was so true and real for making that goofy little comment. 

Fitz is just so real. End of story. Stop bagging on his character. 

[nijigasakilove]

Sylphie and Rudeus equally down bad. A match made in heaven lol. Sylphie imagining how many kids Rudeus would want to put in her while laughing nervously had me crying man. She’s innocent and cute.

If your friends don’t gas and support you like Ariel supports Sylphie with the Rudeus situation, get new friends. Ariel’s got the whole situation back in her kingdom to deal with and her main priority right now is making sure her friend who has been loyal to her for years is happy. That’s so real.

Sylphie keeping the storm clouds together as she and Rudeus walked, in order to trick him into setting up camp in the cave, was just as funny as I’d imagined it when reading. They did cut from that scene a bit where Sylphie imagines buying Rudeus in a slave market. They kind of teased it because she goes “buying Rudeus” internally, but in the LN her thoughts were more explicit.

The “please undress me” scene is probably the most original and intimate confession I’ve seen, at least in a very long time. The parallels back to episode 3 of season 1 in which Rudeus undressed Sylphie and learnt that she was a girl, now doing the same and learning that Fitz is his Sylphie is so perfect. One of the many examples of why I love this series. You just don’t usually see this type of attention to detail in a fantasy LN.

Took a lot of courage for Sylphie to go through with this plan and it never would’ve happened without Ariel’s help so shoutout to her for reuniting two lost friends lol.

Bind delivered in this episode big time. Quality and faithfulness to the chapter(s) were immaculate. If you don’t speak Japanese or didn’t pay attention to the episode titles you may have missed the last 2 episodes titles “Kono kimochi” and “anata e tsuetai” combine to mean I want to convey these feelings to you. Just very beautiful. Well done Bind. Only omissions were Rudeus enjoying Sylphie calling his staff thick and playing with it and the aforementioned sex market stuff

[marvelcomics4ever]

More Incorrect Quotes

Keefe: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Sophie: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Keefe: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING FITZ WITH ME Biana, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Biana: Truth or dare? Sophie: Dare Biana: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room Sophie: Hey Fitz Fitz, blushing: Yeah? Sophie: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Keefe

Linh: Just be yourself. Sophie: 'Be me'? Linh, I have one day to win Keefe over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me? Biana: Couple weeks. Dex: Six months. Marella: Jury’s still out. Sophie: See, Linh? Sophie: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’* Keefe: Thanks fam! Sophie: oh no Fitz: *cries* I love you too Biana: Sounds fake but okay Dex: *A flustered mess* Marella: can i get a refund

*The squad is over at Keefe's house* Sophie: Ohhhh, we each get our own oven? Keefe: ... N-No... Keefe, laughing: How many ovens do you think I have??? Sophie, motioning to their kitchen: Three, I thought! Fitz: I see a- Keefe, motioning to one device: This is a microwave. Sophie: Oh, well I- Keefe: Hey wait wait, actually- hang on- *fiddles with the buttons on the microwave* Keefe, amazed: Its got a bake setting! Biana: Ohoho, you learn something new every day! Dex: Do we- Do we roshambo for who gets to pick first? Keefe: Now I've just discovered I have more ovens than I thought, we don't have to roshambo nothin! Keefe: I am someone who owns four ovens... Keefe, louder and way too happy: I am someone... who owns FOUR OVENS... Keefe: I didn't know I was so rich with ovens... Marella, pointing to another appliance: Also the toaster oven! Keefe: Sophie: Ohhh, toasty boy! Four- Five ovens! Keefe: Keefe, fucking ECSTATIC: I AM SOMEONE WHO OWNS FIVE OVENS

Keefe: Rules are made to be broken. Sophie: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Fitz: Uh, piñatas. Biana: Glow sticks. Dex: Karate boards. Marella: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Keefe: Rules. Sophie: You guys are not helping!!!!!!

*The squad right before Keefe and Sophie's wedding* Linh: Well I have to go, I have a wedding to attend. Marella: Wait... Oh! I have a wedding to attend too! Biana: Oh, I have a wedding to attend as well Dex: I THINK WE ALL HAVE WEDDINGS TO ATTEND Fitz panicked: I THINK I HAVE A WEDDING TO OFFICIATE

Keefe: Hey Girley-pop. Sophie: Not today! Fitz: Greetings, Humans. Dex: Three kinds of people. Biana: I want pudding. Keefe: Four kinds of people. Marella: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Dex: Five kinds of people.

Keefe: Bye Sophie! Bye Fitz! Bye Biana! Bye Dex! Bye Sophie! Fitz: You said ‘bye Sophie’ twice. Keefe: I like Sophie.

Keefe: Good morning. Sophie: Good morning. Fitz: Good morning. Biana: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Marella: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS Biana: That works.

Keefe: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Sophie: 'Prettiest Smile' Fitz: 'Nicest Personality' Biana: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Tam: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

Clara Bow by miss TS but it's just the Vacker family line

"All your life, did you know You'd be picked like a rose" <- The prettiest flowers get picked first. People poke and prod, and you have to develop thorns to keep them away.

"This town is fake but You're the real thing Breath of fresh air through smoke rings" <- I feel like this can encapsulate how the Vacker's feel about their friends or romantic interests. Alden growing up a Vacker and meeting Della, she's the realest thing that's ever happened to him. Fitz meeting Keefe and Sophie, Biana meeting Sophie and Dex and Tam.

All the lines that are like "You look like ______ (insert famous person)" but it's just people comparing everyone in the family against each other. Alvar is born, people are saying "You look just like Alden (Clara bow)" until, obviously, Fitz rolls around and oh NO "HE looks just like Alden, and he's got all of the good things Alvar had too. (Stevie Nicks/Taylor swift)" And then Biana comes around and it's like "You've got all the good parts of both of your brothers. You've got edge, they never did. (Taylor Swift)"

Because the entire Vacker family is Nothing New coded. Like how long will you love me until you move onto the next thing? Am I only biding time till I lose your attention? And someone else lights up the room?

"The crown is stained but you're the real queen Flesh and blood amongst war machines You're the new god we're worshipping Promise to be ... dazzling" <- Finding out about the Vacker legacy, having to keep carrying the name and make something good out of it, to compensate for all the ugly. But you didn't cause it, you were born into it. You're just a kid. You have to always be beautiful and palatable and to say the right things, you are criticized like a god, never quite good enough for the standards of man.

"Beauty is a beast that roars Down on all fours Demanding "more" <- The striving for perfection will swallow you whole. Only when your girlish glow Flickers just so Do they let you know It's hell on earth to be heavenly" <- This just speaks to celebrity culture, and people's entitlement to the lives of others and their beauty, the predatory way child stars are watched, people banking on their fall from grace, always ready to laugh in their face. It's all the spite and jealousy of being front and center, and never being allowed to complain because "You have it better."

But this beauty is ugly now. It's tainted. It's abused. It isn't yours. You are the gladiators in the colosseums of ancient rome, the entertainment as the world crumbles.

This isn't utopia, it's a life sentence.

[companion-showdown-dot-org]

best entrance is doing well for the next tournament (it was winning when i started but not anymore) so i've tried to summarise everyone's that I can. i've attempted to do their first scene on the show. i wasn't able to do everyone, and some of them are probably not quite right as I mostly did it off memory so suggestions welcome

Ian and Barbara - flirting, then talking about their one weirdo student who lives in a junkyard

Susan - being that one weirdo student who lives in a junkyard

Vicki - waiting for rescue

Steven - being the lone captive of a bunch of chumblies is perhaps not great for the mind

Katarina

Sara

Dodo - im just going to have a look in this police box, oh its bigger on the inside, yeah that seems normal

Polly - evil computer's inventor's secretary, invites dodo to a club

Ben - sad and drunk, beats the shit out of someone being threatening to a woman he just met

Jamie

Victoria

Zoe - Jamie's babysitter

Brig - why are all these people running around the london underground

Benton - generic unit soldier

Liz - brigadier, aliens aren't real

Mike - generic unit soldier

Jo - unfortunately your new assistant is too endearing for you to hate

Sarah - stealing your aunt's identity is good investigative journalism

Harry - newly regenerated 4's babysitter

Leela - banished for herasy

K9 - just a robot dog

Romana I - one of the most poerful beings in the universe says the doctor needs a friend

Romana II - is regeneration supposed to be difficult

Adric - no adric you can't join our group of rebel outsiders, you're too much of a nerd

Nyssa - your dad's getting married and you're getting your step-mother's job

Tegan - just so excited to start her new job as an air stewardess

Turlough - steal the brigadier's car, crash the brigadier's car

Kamelion - king john

Peri - this holiday is boring, im going on a different one and nobody can stop me

Mel - already travelling with the doctor, also making him exercise

Ace - begging to join in on the adventure

Grace - opera performance interupted by emergency heart surgery

Lee - gang shoot out interuppted by the TARDIS

Charley - crossdressing so she can work aboard a doomed airship

C'rizz

Evelyn - stop disturbing my lecture on my favourite historical figure with that incessant beeping

Lucie

Liv

Helen

Hex

Benny

Chris

Fitz

Compassion

Anji

Sam

Alison - fed up bartender in mysterious town

Iris

Izzy

Frobisher

Rose - montage of her normal life

Mickey - i get that your workplace just exploded but i really want to go to the pub

Adam - look at all my weird trinkets

Jack - clearly not from the 1940s, but more importantly, bisexual

Martha - family drama phone call

Donna - just materialises on the tardis

Wilf - no amount of danger could get me to leave london

River - wait she knows the doctor

Amy - praying to santa

Rory - nutty nurse thinks coma patients are faking it

Kate - if i don't let the soldiers storm someones house every once in a while they get sad

Clara - its the one from contemporary earth whos sticking around

Handles - the doctor has a pet cyberhead now

Bill - meet this woman the doctor's taken an interest in

Nardole - river's sidekick

Yaz - resolving parking disputes is so boring

Ryan and Graham - ryan can'r ride a bike, but he is going to learn

Dan - this man gives tours of museums he doesn't work for

Ruby - so ruby, give us your backstory

[venndaai]

What do you think would happen in a fitzoff- i.e, put Fizchivalry Farseer ROTE with Fitz(?) Kreiner EDAs.

I love seeing an incredibly and rather bizzarely repressed and mentally ill fragment of text on my dash that is clearly from *some* kind of 90s novel about some guy named fitz abd needing a second to figure out which one is it, but having only very cursory secondhand eda knowledge i feel inedaquate to form opinions on which fitz goes through more/ is more messed up, or how they would react and mesh

Excellent A+ ask thank you.

I think the thing to keep in mind here is that while both Fitzes go through frankly absurd avalanches of trauma, Fitzchivalry's repression technique is depression and self-isolation, while Fitz Kreiner's is projecting a carefree persona. Fitzchivalry's mental narration is of the "everything sucks, I suck, I want to die," variety, while Fitz Kreiner's is more like "everything's actually so great and I am cool and awesome I want to die".

Other differences:

FF is a violent murderer but a general woman respecter; FK is very gentle but is also a sexist sleazeball

FF had multiple fathers who failed at parenting; FK had a mother who failed at parenting

FK is fairly aware he is in love with and attracted to his male presenting nonbinary best friend, he just is Choosing Not To Think About That

FF has a lot of conflicting loyalties and motivations to sort through. FK's only priorities are 1) protect The Doctor, 2) try to do the right or just least horrible thing, 3) get laid?

I think Kreiner wins any angst-off just because he suffers for over two thousand years, which is. Kind of hard to beat. Although he was then replaced with a clone of himself who didn't go through that, but had to angst over the knowledge that the 'real' version of himself did. Yay Doctor Who weirdness!

I think they would loathe each other ngl- FK would be disgusted by FF's violent and sullen ways, while FF would despise FK for being a womanizer and a coward. I do really want to write this crossover now though because I think both of them would instantly fall in love with the other's boyfriend, eheheh.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 28: Fitz's Capture

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, restraints

"And wake." Snap.

Fitz's eyes popped open, as though he'd just closed them for a second -- but that clearly wasn't the case, because he was no longer backstage. Nor was he in his bedroom, on his couch, in someone else's bedroom, on someone else's couch, or in prison, which covered all the places he was likely to wake up unexpectedly.

No, instead he was in a sterile looking room, almost like a doctor or dentist office, perched on top of a table. His arms were restrained behind his back, a pair of handcuffs that he was sure he could easily get himself out of. Lily was standing in front of him, serene and confident.

He'd been a bad judge of character many, many times in his life, but he had a sinking feeling that this would turn out to be one of his more spectacular mistakes. He crushed down the little voice telling him about how he'd been stupid, so stupid, and tried to plaster an unflappable smile on his face.

"Did you have a nice rest? It seemed like you could use it," said Lily.

Fitz's eyebrow twitched with the amount of questions flooding his brain. He hadn't really even believed in mesmerism, and yet somehow she'd put him to sleep and taken him to a location that was clearly not anywhere in the theater. It didn't seem possible, and yet, here he was, trying to remain calm, act like he belonged here and that he knew exactly what he was doing.

"It seems I lost the bet," he said. "Good trick. Mind telling me where we are now?"

"Care to guess?"

He frowned, looking around the room. There wasn't much to go on, just a few chairs and tables. There was an odd post in the center of the room, and the table nearest him had what looked like medical tools on it. He hoped those were just decorative.

"Oh, it's beyond obvious that you've kidnapped me for ransom," he said, picking the most likely option and bluffing his way with the rest. He just needed to keep her talking while he worked his hands free of the cuffs, quietly so she would not hear. "A terrible decision on your part, really. I realize that it's hard to believe, but my family has no appreciation for my talents. They're not going to part with a single dime on my behalf. If anything, they'd pay you to keep me. Not that I expect you to listen to my sage wisdom, but you'd really be better off releasing me before this business gets any uglier."

"Don't worry, I know that your family has left you for dead. I wouldn't have taken you if I thought anyone was going to look."

Now that was actually worrying. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, mostly to stall for time since he didn't think he'd get a real answer from her. 

The door was right there, slightly ajar. Lily was smaller than him and didn't look particularly strong. He could overpower her if needed, especially if he caught her by surprise. And the sooner he got out of here, the better, before he found out firsthand why she didn't want anyone to come looking for him. One of his hands twisted free.

"I mean that I'm not interested in ransom. I'm going to make money from you in a much more surefire way." She grinned, and Fitz was sure he saw fangs there. That couldn't be right -- he had to be imagining things.

Still, she had somehow mesmerized him entirely. And she was very, very pale...

"And how do you intend to make this money?"

"I'll be selling you in an auction. An auction where you're going to be in very high demand. You see, your family's blood is extremely high quality, but it's too risky for us to take anyone whose disappearance might be investigated. That is, until you did the courtesy of divesting yourself of your pesky family. Really, I should thank you."

Fitz's mouth was going dry. "Did you say my blood? You mean my lineage? Because that --"

"No, I mean your literal blood." She was way too close to him now, and when she grinned, her fangs were very sharp and very obvious. How had he not noticed? "Haven't you figured out that I'm a vampire, yet? I thought you might be sharper than that."

"A vampire?" A chill gripped his heart. The evidence -- but no, there was no way. He forced himself to arrogantly laugh in her face. "You do realize I spend most of my time in the company of performers, magicians, occultists, fortunetellers, carnival freaks, and circus acts, don't you? I've rapped on the table during seances. I've been to a dozen rituals to trick rubes. Your vampire act is good, no doubt, but it falls a little short of believable."

She leaned back, and Fitz could see the door again. He slipped his other hand just free of the cuff. "You don't have to believe if you don't want," she said. "What you think hardly matters, especially when I'll be changing your mind. Now let's --"

He took his chance, leaping off the table, pushing her aside and bolting for the door. Fake vampire or no, he wasn't about to let himself be sold at any sort of auction. Thankfully, she clearly wasn't expecting him to slip the cuffs, so his escape should be --

His blood rushed to his ears as he was grabbed and slammed into a wall, with enough force to hurt but not enough to seriously injure him. Lily, the mousey woman a head shorter than him, with arms like fragile twigs, was effortlessly pinning him.

"You get one free attempt," she said. "Mostly because I like you, and you're far too valuable to harm."

Fitz kicked his legs uselessly, his struggles not even seeming to register with her. His panic was growing as he tried to think of an angle behind her apparently supernatural strength and reflexes and came up short. He'd never seen anything like this.

An actual vampire.

Yes, this was one of the worst of his mistakes.

With how effortlessly she'd stopped his dash for the door, escape probably wasn't an option as long as she had him in her sights. That meant his efforts had to go towards survival. Bluff and charm and stall and hope a better opportunity presented itself.

"Can you truly blame me?" he said, hoping his terror wasn't too obvious. Could a vampire smell fear? "I'm a magician. It's my instinct to try and escape. But I've learned my lesson, now."

"Have you?" she said, cocking her head. "You don't strike me as the type of man to learn his lessons easily."

"Perhaps not, but I am the type of man who would rather not be thrown into the wall again."

"That, I can believe," she said, releasing her grip. She walked over to a nearby cupboard, keeping her eye on him all the while. She pulled out a white linen shirt and slacks, tossing them at him. "Now, little magician, be nice and obedient and put these on without a fuss, and your body and mind can remain intact for now. How about it?"

"You want me to change in front of you?" Fitz asked, earning him an impatient glare. "Yes, yes, no fuss, lesson learned. I hope you enjoy what you see." He began unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking eye contact with Lily. He didn't like the sound of "intact for now." Nor did he like the implication that his mind would be harmed. She had him completely over a barrel, and all because he thought he could easily outwit a mesmerist. Stupid, stupid, he'd been so stupid.

He tried in vain to crush down his thoughts by making a great, dramatic show of whipping off his shirt, which gained no reaction whatsoever from Lily. "You know, you were quite good at being part of my magic show," he said as he stripped off the rest of his clothing. "And you have impressive talent as a mesmerist, not to mention your surprising strength. You could make a lot of money in vaudeville."

"I can make a lot of money selling humans."

"Vaudeville's a much easier paycheck, I would think."

"I wouldn't say that. It was awfully easy capturing you, wasn't it?"

Fitz couldn't help but scowl. There had to be some angle here. "Don't you feel a twinge of remorse, doing this? Kidnapping innocent people? Not me, of course, I'm hardly innocent, but surely others..."

"Oh, I do, at times. But my remorse pales compared to the size of my paycheck, not to mention my hunger for blood like yours."

"So that's it, then? Some vampire is going to drain me dry and leave me for dead?"

"Oh, not at all. With how valuable your blood is, it'd be extremely irresponsible to leave you for dead," she said. "No, more likely they'll leave you in a half-lucid state for years while they feed from you whenever the mood strikes them. If you're lucky, you'll get to keep enough of your mind to be a servant."

Stupid. Stupid. He'd been so stupid. "Well, doesn't that sound..." His composure broke, unable to think of a retort. Trapped by vampires, having his mind taken, being forced into servitude -- he always knew his life would lead him to some kind of bad end, but he didn't expect this sort of fate worse than death to be waiting for him. "Doesn't that just sound charming," he finished pathetically. 

The uniform was uncomfortably itchy and ill-made, and he was glad he had no mirror. "Well? Do I look the part of your prisoner?" he said, striking a pose before Lily.

"It'll do. You'll get a more thorough physical examination later," she said. "But it's almost sunrise, so for now I'll get you to your cell. Any funny business and I'll put you back to sleep."

"I think I've had enough charmed sleep for one night," he said, offering no resistance as Lily gripped his wrist and pulled him out of the room. They walked down a sterile corridor and through a set of metal double doors, the guard glaring at him as he passed through. The doors opened to a long row of prison cells, most filled with people in various states of misery. Some curled up, some sat on cots and stared vacantly at the wall, one woman was pacing and muttering to herself.

The reality of it all began to sink in. This wasn't a nightmare, or a trick, or a joke. He was actually a prisoner here, and he had no way out. It was all he could do to keep from fruitlessly struggling against Lily's grasp, knowing it could only make his situation worse.

She led him to an empty cell and motioned him inside, and he took a long look at the doors before reluctantly entering, the door closing behind him with a definitive clang.

"Meals are three times a night. The faucet water is for drinking and bathing. Use the bell if you need the chamber pot cleaned or if there is an emergency. Lights out means quiet. Noise during lights out, abusing the bell, or harming yourself will all be punished."

"What's the punishment?"

"Anything we like, so I wouldn't recommend testing it," she said. "Oh, and you should know that I am planning to keep your mind intact. I have an old friend who I think would appreciate your antics. But if you attempt to escape, that plan will change. Is that clear?"

Perhaps he had indeed learned a lesson, because he didn't doubt that she could do that. He had to do whatever it took to stay alive here. "Crystal clear."

"Good, I'm glad we can understand each other. I can tell we're going to get along well, Phantom Fitz."

"Like a house on fire," he said bitterly.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to stew in your many regrets. See you next evening."

As Lily walked away, Fitz flopped down on the meager cot with the rough mattress. Even his bed in the tiny room he'd rented was better than this. He couldn't help but think of his old family home -- the luxurious bed, the sumptuous food, the gorgeous clothing. He'd run away from it all to pursue his freedom, to live a life away from constant criticism and expectation. He'd been broke, slept in the nastiest of flophouses, gone hungry, begged, bartered, and stole. 

It had all been worth it when he was up on the stage, in his element. It was all going to be worth it when he made it big, when he basked in the applause of adoring crowds and rolled in riches every night. Approval he didn't need to wring out of his parents like blood from a stone, money that wasn't doled out with withering glares.

And now, that dream could all go up in smoke. A servant to a vampire. So much for freedom, fortune, and fame. If he had known...

He was stupid. So stupid.

Part 27 >> Masterlist >> Part 29

Thanks for reading this story of a down on his luck stage magician. Back to Oliver next.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs

[alaydabug2]

Ok figured out how to do that hopefully it works

If it dios listen to this while you read

✨️completes✨️ the experience

Sokeefe wedding oneshot 😁

(Sophie Pov)

Sophie sat down in her chair as Edaline did her hair, and Biana did her make-up. Normally, she'd hate every second of the primping, but today was different.

She was getting married.

To Keefe Sencen.

Soon to be Foster.

She was in the poofiest dress she'd ever worn. But today, she didn't mind it. In fact, she had never felt more confident.

Although the second she found out she had to wear a cape, she ditched that real fast. Instead, swapping it out for a more human traditional veil.

Along with the heels. There was no way in heck she'd be able to stand that all night. Under the layers upon layers of tule she had on rose gold ballet flats. It matched the embroidered butterflies on the hem of her dress and the combs that Edaline was weaving into her updo. Biana dusted the same shade onto her lids.

After finally getting ready, Edaline kissed her on the cheek, and her and Biana left to get into position.

(Keefe pov)

Keefe adjusted his bow tie. He turned to Fitz.

"How do I look."

Fitz clapped him on the back. "Like you might actually be a responsible adult."

"Really?"

Fitz shook his head. "The fact that surprises you seriously concerns me."

Keefe sank onto the edge of the bed. "Sorry." He drug a hand down his face. "I'm just so nervous, right now. This is really happening."

He chuckled. "Don't go stressing out. When I talked to Sophie earlier, she didn't even seem as nervous as you are. That's saying a lot."

He flopped onto his back. "The thing is," he whispered. "I'm terrified I'm going to mess something up. And I don't just mean the ceremony."

Fitz laid down beside him. "I know what you mean. But I promise you, you'll be fine. You've come a long way since we were teenagers. You don't run from your problems anymore. Well, physically, at least," he teased.

Keefe let out a breath. "Thanks, man, I really appreciate it."

"Of course." He shoved his shoulder. "Now come on. You don't need to be late to your own wedding."

Keefe snorted.

(Sophie pov)

Sophie took a breath and hooked her arm through Grady's. It was time for her to walk down the aisle!

The music started to play. They had decided to choose a human song track for the ceremony. Half the guests couldn't even understand it, but she still liked knowing something familiar.

Thanks to her upbringing, lots of the wedding traditions for the Lost Cities weren't something she was accustomed to. So she suggested a couple of things for the ceremony, and Keefe loved the ideas.

It wasn't going to be a traditional Lost Cities wedding. Nor would it be traditional for the Forbidden Cities. But...that was just how her and Keefe rolled. It seemed fitting.

Grady squeezed her hand. Sophie looked up at him. "I love you, Kiddo," he whispered. "I'm trusting That Boy to take care of you." He gave her a teasing grin.

"I love you too," she murmured back. "And don't worry, he will." She glanced at her groom, standing at the Alter. He had the goofiest most sweetest grin on his face. And his eyes, his gorgeous ice blue eyes, had big fat tears welling up in them. She could tell he was trying not to let them spill. The sight made her own tear up.

They continued down the aisle.

(Keefe Pov)

Watching Sophie walk down that aisle really messed him up. By the time she kissed Grady on the cheek and took her place in front of him, his eyes seemed to have manifested as hydrokinetics. He was trying his hardest not to start sniffling like a little baby.

Sophie just smiled at him and reached out to wipe away his tears with her knuckle. Her gold flecked eyes seemed glassy herself.

"I love you," she whispered just so he could hear her.

He flapped his mouth a couple of times, but he couldn't seem to make a coherent sentence. Thankfully, his tongue untied it's knot as they exchanged vows and speeches. (A/N, It's 12 am I'm not looking up what the vows are rn, sorry 😭)

He slid the ring onto Sophie's left hand. She did the same for him.

Sophie passed her bouquet to Amy. She had managed to convince the Council to let her visit to be her Maid of Honor.

They locked hands, his of which were shaking.

Mr.Forkle turned to him. "Do you, Keefe Sencen, take Sophie Foster to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to cherish, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for all of eternity."

More tears escaped, and he couldn't quite clear all the thickness from his throat as he told Sophie. "I do."

Forkle turned to Sophie. "Do you, Sophie Foster, take Keefe Sencen to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for all of eternity."

Finally, Sophie's straggler tear escaped as she whispered, "I do."

Mr.Forkle looked between the both of them. "I now pronounce you husband and wife! Introducing Sophie and Keefe Foster! You may now kiss the bride."

That was all the prompting Keefe needed. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her with all the passion he'd been bottling up for years. (A/N I ain't ever kissed someone before lol 🫠)

It wasn't every day that you married your Foxfire crush, after all.

(Sophie pov)

Sophie didn't need to read Keefe's mind to know he was the happiest man on the entire  planet at that moment.

The tears running down his face said that enough.

She pressed her forehead to his, reaching up to tussle his hair as she pressed another breathless kiss to his lips. He melted into it.

The rest of the night passed in mostly a blur. Until the first dance. She ended up tripping over her dress near the end. Keefe just chuckled and pulled her close. "That's my Foster."

Sophie reached up to brush her thumb over the upturned corner of his smirk. "And that's my Foster."

The audience wasn't able to hear what either of them were saying, but they definitely saw the way the smirk melted off of Keefe's face. The way his cheeks went tomatoe red, and the look in his eyes flickered to something even an empath couldn't translate.

It was Sophie's turn to smirk.

When it was time for cake, Keefe smashed her face into the slice. She threw a handful into his hair. Then it was full-fledged cake armorgetton.

By the time they collapsed on the couch of their hotel room in Greece, they we're both exhausted. Sophie would get out of her cake covered dress later. At the moment, she crawled into Keefe's lap and kissed him for the hundredth time that night and wrapped her arms around his neck. He simply smirked at her with a knowing look.

[rudikawhy]

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Season Two

While watching season two, I took some notes of my thoughts. I only started on S02 E09 so before that there isn't too much.

Sorry, this is going to be mostly Fitzsimmons but you can't really blame me, because it's THEM

But first, two last things for season one "I couldn't live if you didn’t" "Well, I feel the same way. There has to be another way." "You're taking it" "Why would you make me do this? You're my best friend in the world!" "Yeah, you're more than that, Jemma" seems to now live in my head

Also the desperation and intensity in Jemma's voice, while Fitz's is so calm and kinda trembling, but both are absolutely heartbreaking in their own ways

But now to season two:

Fitz having trouble with words is both absolutely adorable and heartbreaking

Bobbi reminded me at first of the person (?) from Asgard who helped them get Lorelei

I am curious why Hunter says that his ex-wife was so horrible because so far, I love Bobbi

I just can't shut up about Fitz. But no-one I know in real life would know what the hell I'm talking about, so I just think about him and write about him

(S02 E03) When Jemma wakes up by the sound of her alarm and the song started playing, I thought "Hold on, I know that song", and yes, I love "God help the Girl"

Also it's kinda ironic because it says "God help the Girl, she needs all the help she can get" just as she steps into the lift which brings her to her work at Hydra

(S02 E04) Hunter: "Guys, drop everything!" Fitz: "No, this is worth a fortune. I'm not gonna drop it."

(S02 E07) "Would anyone like to leave before we get started" I would have raised my hand too

(S02 E09) Mack: "A Storm's coming" - Fitz: "No, weather's fine, actually. There's not a cloud in the sky. I checked."

[Jemma knocks on table] "That's not wood, is it?"

Why is literally any conversation Fitzsimmons have killing me? The "I can work for you, I just can't work with you"? I beg your pardon? How am I supposed to accept that?

"Come home, Jemma" (S02 E11) HQ's their home :D

Fitz's hands trembling :(

(S02 E12) This moment when you recognize the face of the woman that came from the ocean but can't recall WHO it is (Lady Sif)

Fitz seems so left out when Jemma tells him about them changing the ICER

Why is Jemma saying "Sir, the boys were right" so funny to me?

Nooo, Coulson said "Fitz and Simmons", they're no longer one and the same

I mean I agree that it wasn't right that Fitz lied to the rest of the team about Skye but please, can Fitzsimmons just be at least friends and work together

(S02 E14) Jemma: "Oh, Fitz!"; Fitz: "Well, don't 'Oh, Fitz' me!" - I kinda waited for him to say that

I am so confused by this whole "real S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No, it's not that. You're afraid 'cause of what happened to me and Skye, how we both changed. But you know what the scariest change is, Jemma? It's you." You know what? At this point maybe I don't want them to talk at all anymore, if every time they do, I just sit there and think "Why are you doing this to each other?"😭

(S02 E15) "I told you, Leo,[...]" Okay, Jemma, this doesn't feel right, calling him by his first name, I regret asking in the first place

I am REALLY confused by the real S.H.I.E.L.D.

I'm glad that even Fitz puts the USB in the wrong way at first

Did Fitzsimmons finally make up when sitting on the ground by the table when "real S.H.I.E.L.D" attacked?

(S02 E16) Don't do this to me, Jemma, don't say you want Fitz off the plane!

Don't leave Jemma alone, Fitz!

Okay, I've changed my mind. Apparently there was a plan behind Fitz leaving that I didn't catch. ("Nice work, Jemma")

Also: Proscuitto + Mozzarella, Be Safe! Love, Jemma 🥲 - The world's most dangerous sandwich is back

I know it's actually a bit late but I have honestly no idea what S.O. means (I suppose it doesn't mean Significant Other) (Rewatching parts of season one reminded me - Supervising Officer)

I really want to like Bobbi (and I still do) but I am afraid I won't much longer

(S02 E17) I kinda like Lincoln

Skye telling the story about not being anywhere longer than two years despite being 25 (or actually 26) actually brought me to tears

Okay, THAT I didn't expect. That this was Skye's mother

"The Girl. I couldn't save her" I didn't know May could make me cry

I thought that when Fitz was in that public bathroom with Coulson's cube (I forgot the name) that Ward was outside knocking and I already saw Fitz getting captured

(S02 E18) That was quite a run, Fitz, I would have been fallen down at least five times (not to mention my lack of stamina), three times alone on the stairs (I know that others have run more and under different circumstances but still)

I feel for Fitz, rocking his leg, I totally understand

Don't you dare, Ward, talking to Fitz!!

Grateful for Coulson's and Hunter's quick reaction

(S02 E19) Was it worth it, Ward? Betraying S.H.I.E.L.D. for leaving Hydra again like half a season later?

I'm glad Fitzsimmons finally talk to each other again like normal people

"Mistakes were made..." - "By you" "...and people got hurt..." - "By you"

No, I'm not okay. "Be careful, Jemma"😭

"So, how does this work? You just click your heals together and whisper, "There's no place like home"?" Is this a S.H.I.E.L.D. director thing? Quoting The Wizard of Oz?

One moment I really like Skye's mother and ten seconds later I can't stand her

(S02 E21) this whole show is confusing me. Who's on whose side?

Now Gordon too!?

Leave Bobbi alone!!!!

I'm not sure if I like Lincoln anymore

(S02 E22) Nooo, Bobbi!

That's what you've got, Ward! Now your girlfriend's dead

"There's nothing to discuss, Jemma" - "Maybe there is"😢😢 I can't with them

"Science, biatch" I actually squeak-laughed

"We're not bad, we're misled" Aaaaand I like Lincoln again

I need someone asking me out the way Fitz did, asap

I mean I knew what was about to happen to Jemma (I saw a GIF somewhere) but fuck, with sound and context it hurts SO MUCH MORE

Okay, that was it with season two. I know I need to step down a little bit with how many episodes I watch daily (because season two has only been six days), but no matter how much I know that, I just can't stop. But enough with this talk.

It was fun doing this, I think I'll do it again with season three.

[therese-lokidottir]

Just because it's not a "happy ending" doesn't mean it's not taking the easy way out.

What pisses me off is that the truth is that Loki absolutely takes the easy way out. It hides behind the brainwashed excuse. I will never stop saying everyone in the TVA presents way too much freedom of thought to say "Oh, they were brainwashed" and otherwise act like they were poor misled people. That's what it does when it shows everyone in the TVA normal happy people in their past lives. It would have been a million times more interesting if the past showed that Mobius was not a good person.

Agents of SHIELD really had so much better writing that MCU right now never could come close. That farmwork arc really gets me because hits with the fact how circumstances really shape someone. Fitz having the absolute existential breakdown over the person he could have been is heartbreaking. On the flipside Grant Ward, seeing that he could been a good person is almost tragic. It is a story that really live by the idea of good isn't a thing that you are it's a thing that you do. It does not take the easy way out and say these are good people tricked into fascism. No, it shows it is circumstances and someone own choices that shape them into the people they are.

AoS was so much more interesting that Grant wasn't an inherently bad person and Fitz wasn't an inherently good person. In the present life Fitz is a goodhearted hero and Grant planted his feet in the ground and continued down a path down cruelty and ego. It shows how life can shape people, good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do. But Loki2021 does not do that in any kind of significant way. Fitz has a breakdown over learning the cruelty he's capable of and he didn't even hurt anyone real. Mobius tortures Loki in season, then is complicit in torture in season 2, and everyone in-universe and out talks about him like he is such a nice guy.

The sad thing is Loki2021 could been a deep statement on how "no one is immune to propaganda". If this show didn't hate Loki so much and decided the New York invasion was because Loki was angry at Daddy it could have made a parallel to how just like Loki, Mobius fell for an enigmatic figure promising him purpose and power. It could have been such a strong story about how people fall down the pipeline into fascism. But it doesn't because it takes the easy way with its characters. They thought the ends justified the means. They thought they were doing the right thing so they're not bad people. They were just following orders.

The show ends with the TVA still exciting. The people rebuilding "changing" it are the same people for hundreds of years did not think twice when wiping trillions of people from existence. People who did not think twice when putting collars around people's necks, stripping them, and having their "crimes" listed to them with no chance of being proved innocent or being let go. Don't worry now that they know the truth these people can be trusted to make the right decisions. Don't worry, now the TVA will only hurt the right people.