#(and. yeah. i think that's why she quotes him at her most desperate appeal /and/ why she's so pissed off that he didn't speak for her

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 34

💖 first time reader click here 💖

A little bit of plot, but mostly ironstrange x reader filthy porn. Bukkake stuff. Stephen finally opening up a lil bit, I mean... I've slept through a 1/3 of a hospital and lemme tell you, doctors are kinky bastards. On the same note, there's definitely going to be a chapter where all three men are involved after the plot shit is resolved.

There was something big brewing. I had a hunch... which was more like a strong sense of doom... hanging over me and the rest of the world. Peter also had noticed the sudden spike in anxiety, quoting the sudden disappearance of many low-tier mutants from the streets. Usually, Peter dealt with at least a few enhanced enemies during his patrols but the closer it got to Christmas, the less enhanced bothered with small-time crimes, the more intense the buzzing of his Spidey sense became.

Now that my immediate lack of income wasn't a problem anymore, I set business onto that damn mercenary. I was no spy, I was no SHIELD operative but... I could be very clever.

First things first, I had to make sure I would stay alive no matter what. A subdermal tracker was a good guarantee of security and I spent many hours making one - having to keep it a secret was incredibly hard, I hated lying to my loves and I hated avoiding Wanda even more - I was constantly on the edge around the telepath, hyperfocused on keeping up the pretense of normalcy.

I wouldn't be me if I couldn't successfully pull off a whole ass façade. Unfortunately, the continued failures of the people searching left and right for the mercenary only fueled my strength for the inevitable fuck-fest that I would have to create in order to make sure my people get the peace they fucking deserve. The web of lies grew in size every damn day.

Subdermal tracker, an implant that reports directly to Friday upon activation. It hurt like a bitch - I had cut myself open, an inch wide gash on the inside of my forearm - and put it in without any anesthesia in my own bathroom, not even thinking twice before making up a lie that I had been careless in the lab and hurt myself.

An antidote to common tranquilizers, creating it gave me a headache the size of Moscow but I'd been successful; Tony assembled the whole team when he found it out, offering me a ridiculous amount of money for the formula. It was weird. SHIELD was interested, too, and I had to witness Tony and Coulson argue. Apparently, the agency wanted to recruit me and Tony was adamantly against it, totally forgetting the promise Natasha had given me. In the end, the spy and Coulson shared a quiet conversation and the man left, respectfully complimenting my skills.

I sold the formula to Stark Industries, unable to get rid of the weirdness of the situation. I had to shake hands with my own boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend... In a business setting. What. Just what. Bucky and Stephen couldn't stop laughing at the face I made all throughout that day - and Clint even went as far as to bake me a gag cake, a cartooney handshake drawn in frosting on top of it. I hit him with a spatula, Loki smiled in his direction for the first time in, like, ever. It was a trip and Tony had way too much fun with the incident.

Perhaps, turning myself into a cyborg stew wasn't the best plan that was possible to think up in a few weeks' time but I've never claimed to be exceptionally intelligent; if anything, I've always considered myself to be a moderately educated idiot. It is common knowledge that there are two halves of a whole idiot: my second half was on his way from California, having had received my very detailed e-mail about the whole cursed box fiasco and the consequences that followed. I could barely contain my excitement at the prospect of seeing uncle Eddie and his symbiote again.

Tony wasn't even half as excited; if anything, he bordered on outright hostile, bickering, and sassing everybody left and right. It could have been the situation at hand finally getting on his last nerves. It could have been his jealousy, the same that appeared every time I paid extra attention to someone that wasn't him, Bruce or Stephen. Either way, Bruce was sighing all the time now and Stephen's remarks began to fill with poison once again.

Just like the good old times, I guess. I was forced to pull a Me over and over, interrupting their petty arguments with increasingly absurd remarks. I felt like everybody was laughing at me these days, which ended in only one way it could have...

"Brat," Stephen's patience was paper-thin and, being forcefully distracted from yelling at Tony, he directed his angst at the nearest person - me. "I oughta put you over my knee. I swear to Cosmos..."

"Blah, blah, blah. Don't you ever get tired of listening to yourself talk?" I raised my eyebrows, tone deceptively calm. "You're talking too much for someone who can't even..." I didn't get to finish my sentence, suddenly finding my mouth firmly glued shut. It was magic - the sensation was pulling, but not unpleasant. Reminded me of a ball gag Tony had used on me in the early days of our relationship.

"Now, Dumbledore, hold your horses..." Tony interjected looking none-too-happy. The engineer placed a warning arm on the sorcerer's bicep, their little spat seemingly forgotten.

"What, Tony? She's been nothing but a mouthy urchin the past few days, I can't stand it anymore," They shared a meaningful look; no matter how much Tony wanted to argue, he knew Stephen was right. What he didn't know was that there probably have been a magic versus science altercation... Or worse. Humiliation was a small price to pay for some (relative) peace.

I did what I do best. I annoyed them further, throwing up a juicy middle finger to the two men and turned around with a huff, mind set on finding Loki to undo the mute ban Stephen gave me. Needless to say, I didn't make it very far.

In mere seconds, I was sandwiched between the two men, Stephen's finger delicately holding my chin to force me to look into his eyes. Tony was holding onto my shoulders from behind me - I could feel the tension, my engineer was almost buzzing with it. I was pretty sure my eyes were laughing anyway because Stephen's frown slowly transformed into a coy smirk once his stormy blues focused on my face.

"Brat," He repeated once again. "She's doing this on purpose."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Tony's breath tickled the nape of my neck. "That does sound like our little Princess," Apparently, it took all of a 0.1 second for Tony to switch from annoyed to horny. Men, they were so easy to play. "Baby, if you wanted our attention you could have just said so," He chastised me, hands sliding down to my waist.

I hummed, and then aggressively hummed some more until Stephen removed the magical gag. "Not like you'd notice it, being occupied with tearing each other's hair out," I pouted.

The sorcerer briefly averted his eyes, leaning down to softly kiss my pout. It was very unlikely I'd get an actual apology but a kiss I won't be complaining about either. "So, your best tactic was to annoy us even more? How does that work out for you?"

I pulled on the tied fabric around his waist, bringing him closer to me. "Pretty good, if I'm being honest. You're exactly where I wanted you to be," Carelessly, I began untying the layers of silks and cotton I had become intimately familiar with over the course of the past few weeks. Most of the time Steph wore his wizard garbs and while figuring out how to undo them was a trip at first, I had gotten him desperate enough a few times, for him to show me a few tips and tricks for easier access.

Tony snorted somewhere behind me. "You just want us for our bodies," His hands wormed their way under my shirt, brushing the underside of my breasts. Bra? Hardly know her. "Our beautiful, sexy bodies." Yes Tony, very humble.

"When will you learn, people?" I asked rhetorically, simultaneously leaning into both Tony's and Stephen's touch. "Why fight each other when you could be fucking me into oblivion instead?"

Stephen snorted, still not completely used to the at times crude things that left my (and occasionally Tony's) mouth. I had a hunch the sorcerer was holding back somewhat - for whatever reason - and I was eagerly waiting for him to get comfortable enough to reveal that special part of himself. Whatever it was, I just knew it was delicious and sinful and-

"Do you really think I will be giving you what you want after your little... Stunt?" Steph went balls out; his voice dropped and the intensity of his stare left me breathless. The hand that was stroking my face wrapped around my throat as he had some sort of a silent conversation with Tony.

"Yeah," I emphasized the word with an inaudible 'duh' behind it but obediently trotted along as Stephen backed up towards the couch, leading me by the throat like a pet on a leash. I was steadily going into 'no thoughts, head empty' territory.

"I like it when you get all bossy," Tony remarked casually but he was close enough for me to hear the strain in his voice. Every time we fucked, Tony eagerly gave up the control to Stephen. I definitely saw the appeal. Stephen Strange demanded authority effortlessly, his stern but fair attitude simply demanded to kneel.

That's just what I did. As soon as Stephen made himself comfortable on the Italian leather couch, I dropped to my knees, looking up at the man with big round eyes. Just like Tony and Bruce, Stephen had his own weaknesses when it came to moi and I wasn't ashamed to exploit them. Steph's stroked my hair, carding careful fingers through it, slowly unbuttoning his pants with his other hand.

"If you insist on being mouthy, I have a better task for you," He husked, pulling me closer towards him. I called it his doctor voice. Honestly, I don't have a clue how his surgical team could be around him with their pants on back in the day... The man was a snack on a silver platter.

Steph's erection sprang free. I didn't hesitate to wrap my hand around it, stroking the underside of his glans just like he liked it, looking to the side where Tony landed on the couch next to Stephen, a curious look on his face. Yeah, Tony liked to watch. Me and Stephen or me and Bruce... Me and Stephen and Bruce? That's an idea for later.

"Don't mind little old me," Tony smirked his trademark Stark mischief, getting comfortable, ditching his oil-stained shirt and unbuttoning his pants to lazily palm himself through his boxers. "Carry on," The smirk only grew when Tony noticed both me and Steph eyeing him with amusement.

I hid my grin, nodding my head, before wrapping my lips around the tip of Stephen's cock, relaxing my throat to prepare for the intrusion. Sweet and salty, the slit on his cockhead was mercilessly teased by the tip of my tongue.

Stephen murmured encouragements under his breath as I began to bob up and down, him controlling the pace with a hand in my hair, just the right balance between cruel and gentle. The sorcerer was always too good to me, bringing me to the point of overstimulation and instantly soothing the ache afterward; "Fuck, darling, your mouth feels like heaven," He groaned as I snuck a look upwards to see his lips parted and a steady flush crawling up his neck.

"She knows how to work a man, doesn't she?" Tony's lust had him panting, hips moving into his own hand. He leaned closer to Stephen, brushing my hair behind my ear with a tender hand. "Merlin needs to share," Tony began pulling me in his direction. I reluctantly let go of Stephen's cock, keeping up the pace with my hand as I scooted closer to Tony to be able to mouth at his stiff erection.

Watching me suck cock always got Tony hard enough to pound nails with. I couldn't blame him, I knew what I could do and did well; by the time I made my way down his thick flesh, drool was dripping down my chin and the make-up around my eyes was surely smeared by tears. My engineer was much less gentle than Steph, pounding my face without reservations.

"I know you can take it, baby girl, fuck," My face was held in his strong grip, thumbs digging into my jaw. "Such a good girl," The two words went straight down to my pussy and I had to squirm and clench my thighs together, whining at the lack of friction.

The air was pierced by a low moan - Stephen was fisting his erection almost desperately now, almost as desperately as I was humping the air, whining like a bitch in heat at the taste of Tony's cock in my mouth. I knew neither of the men would last long, not with all that pent up tension running through their minds and bodies.

"Fuck, come here, baby girl," The engineer yanked me off his cock, gripping the base of it so forcefully his knuckles turned white. I was all but dragged into the space between them; still kneeling, barely seeing with snot and tears smeared all over my face, I couldn't hold in the broken moan as the realization set in.

"Keep your eyes open!" Steph instructed furiously, scooting to tower over me. Tony followed in his steps as I obediently lifted my eyes to their cocks and then their faces; nearly identical furrowed brow expressions stared back at me, lips moist and eyes wide. Both men stroked themselves with renewed vigor.

I hummed softly before sticking out my tongue; their reaction didn't let me wait long. Strings of pearly white cum landed in my hair, on my face; I felt the warmth on my skin and tasted their salt and musk on the tip of my tongue, reflexively swallowing each and every drop that landed in my mouth, savoring it just like I savored the sinful groans that left their mouths.

"Fuck, you're so good to us," Tony panted, gracelessly falling backward onto the couch.

Stephen, however, didn't hurry to catch his breath, giving me a thoughtful look. His fingers shook more than ever but he paid no mind to the discomfort, gathering the cum dripping down my face with two fingers and offering it to me, holding them up to my lips as I gently cleaned them off. And he did it again, and again, until Tony gave a weak moan of recognition, throwing an arm under his head.

"Be polite, Princess," Stephen's voice hadn't lost the lust in it just yet.

"Thank you, sir," I mumbled, utterly captivated by the way he was looking at me. Stormy blues radiated a strong sense of intensity, devotion perhaps, that I wasn't ready for.

Stephen smiled at me, almost coyly, before kneeling right next to me and bringing me over the edge with a few sharp, clever movements of his hand. I held onto his shoulders for dear life, barely noticing Tony's reaction - if there was one - my other lover seemed to be as surprised as I was, choosing to hang back and observe the unusual situation.

I had a feeling that whatever it was, it would make another appearance during our playtime. It wasn't just sex, it wasn't making love - it was... Something. I loved every second of it.

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

[watchinglikeafangirl]

Light on me Ep 9&10

Well if this week hasn't been an up and down of emotions... I got all worked up in front of the screen and cried out of frustration. The writers sure know how to keep the excitement up and I still can't fully wrap my head around how realistic all these characters are. They all have flaws and it depends on how close they are to Tae-Gyeong or what side of themselves they are showing him in how dominating the bad habits are. It is visible this story is told from one perspective. All characters act in the way Tae-Gyeong expects from them or in the way he feels their vibe. Namgung is the funny but wholesome guy. This scene at the end showed him in different light, his loyal side. It truly is a hard job portrayinng a realistic world and characters acting as stupid and desperate as high school students do.

So-Hee

This week, we learn a lot about Da-On and his biggest flaw:

This man has no priorities and I'm on So-Hee's side when it comes to being hurt about it because I can relate to that very much. I had a friend once whom I just vibed with and I felt like I was a special friend to him, but then we didn't talk as much any more and it didn't bother him at all. My place was filled with someone else and I came to realise he treats everyone the same, tells the same amout of secrets. So no one is closer to him than the others and he's not just the way he is around you, he shows everyone the same side. I was really hurt by that, so I can feel So-Hee's point and why that hurts. It gives you the feeling of not mattering enough. But that's only as far as I can go because the other stuff she does is really respectless and disgusting.

In the end, she's just hung up on the idea of being with Da-On and waits for him constantly even though it's a lost hope. She doesn't move on and still pretends she's special to him even though she knows she isn't. She never was. But this lie she told herself became her own truth and that's why she's so very jealous of Tae-Gyeong and tries to join forces with Shin-Woo. But thankfully Namgung steps up and at least says something against her hysterically harsh words.

You think you know Da-On the most, but you don't know anything. You let your feelings get ahead of you and act like a child. What do you know?

But there's no more hope for So-Hee and she decides to do the btchmove by releasing that photo. I'm not gonna talk much about it because I'm already getting mad again. In what worl is a forced outing fair?!

Namgung

There's not much to say about Namgung. Only that he loves food, is funny and probably quotes every possible source that gave love advice. He's charming and seems pretty harmless until he talks to So-Hee. His voice suddenly turns calm and deep. He has a very accusatory look on his face and his eyes widen a bit when So-Hee asks him if he's gay. I don't even think he's gay. He just got really defensive and was done with her at that moment because of the way she says it, I guess. She pronounces it in a very harsh and unfair manner. It sounds like an insult which is just crossing a line. And Namgung thankfully made clear she did.

Da-On

Da-On is a very complicated and closeted character. He never opens up to anyone but you can see he tries sometimes but not enough. You have to lur information out of him and even then, you don't get a real answer. It's mainly why I think he will end up alone in the end. He's not ready to open up yet because he doesn't even see in what way his behavior hurts others.

He treats everyone the same, lets them interrupt moments and seeks excuses in tasks. I don't really know why he does that to be honest. Why would he never prioritize his friends over other people? It doesn't add up to me. You could lie in the hospital and he would still leave because someone asked him to. It is very frustrating and instead of inviting others in, he pushes them away, keeps everyone at a distance he can manage but never learns about borders and signs. There are things you simply don't do with people who are not your friends plus you only adjust to a group as far as you can stay your true self. Denying and hiding is not what having friends means. Da-On constantly trying to adjust to people to seem as appealing, hurts Tae-Gyeong. It means Da-On doesn't wear his bracelet. It means Da-On takes his hand away. It means Da-On cares too much.

To be honest, I feel uncomfortable around Tae-Gyeog. He's too honest. I don't know how to treat him.

This was probably the most real Da-On has been in a very long time. I think Tae-Gyeong fascinates and intimidates him at the same time. Da-On has a lot of secrets, so he tried adjusting to Tae-Gyeong by telling him one but he finds it makes him feel uncomfortable but now he doesn't know how to pull away. He's not good at being honest but he gave Tae-Gyeong false hope.

Like I said, there are always borders. Da-On touches Tae-Gyeong a lot which Tae-Gyeong countes as physical contact in a romantic way because not much time passed since they met. It wasn't clear Da-On only tried to cover his uncomfortness. He is not honest. And why is that? Because of expectations. I meantioned the problem with Da-On and expectataions nearly every week now and it fits more and more. He's nice to everybody because they expect him to. That's why he will never change or will have a hard time changing for a person because he feels pressured to be what the others need him to be, feels like he needs to be there.

Shin-Woo

Shin-Woo is always so quiet and shy and calm but I truly laughed out of malicious joy when he talked So-Hee down. She wants to join forces with him, wants them both to manipulate Tae-Gyeong and Da-On in the way they want them to be and Shin-Woo just says something like "I decide when I give up" and just walks away. So-Hee doesn't know what to say and Shin-Woo just seems like a badass.

Now, I like Shin-Woo even more. He even gives Da-On advice and you can see he talks from his heart. The entire talk between Da-On and Shin-Woo was tense and I was on the tip of my toes waiting for them to build sentences.

After the advice, Shin-Woo kind of works as a wingman here. Da-On looks like "please stay, it's uncomfortable" and Shin-Woo's face is just like "no, I told you to be honest".

But yeah, he's the same grumpy person as before. Tae-Gyeong more and more discovers his good sides and since Tae-Gyeong doesn't know him because Shin-Woo is so quiet, he doesn't seem to have flaws, he's flawless in his eyes.

Tae-Gyeong

Tae-Gyeong really frustrated me this week, honestly. when he said:

And went down to the beach afterwards to talk to Shin-Woo, I had so much hope I'd get a confession from him. I thought he meant Shin-Woo because he was the one who didn't talk about feelings and all. Da-On said something about liking and then Tae-Gyeong says his feelings are one-sided? Sorry, but I didn't get it at that point. It makes sense later but that really urked me until he confessed to Da-On. Even that, I didn't like at all.

But I feel sorry for TAe-Gyeong. He waits and waits and nothing good comes with it. He realizes he has to move on. Da-On won't change for him. Da-On has to find the right person to change for and that one is not Tae-Gyeong. (it's not So-Hee either but who am I telling this)

In that episode, we have some sort of change in the storytelling. After that scene in the cafeteria, something about the atmosphere changes and I can't really name it. It's like we're back at the beginning. Tae-Gyeong was so caught up with Da-On, his perspective on other things changed and even lacked because he didn't pay attention any more. Now, he's trying to move on and spends time with Shin-Woo and the atmosphere changes. It's like his eyes opened to world again.

Conclusion

Let's see how the posted picture So-Hee released will play out. Probably not in a good way. Just like all forced outings. Everyone cares and I still don't know why they should. I hope So-Hee will leaarn her lesson because I can't bear her any longer...

But until that, here an example of Shin-Woo's love language:

Hurtiing/bumping into other people on purpose.

[samingtonwilson]

Apartment 8C - Chapter 1

Telling the Kids About Your Separation

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe. 

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: SHE’S BACK, LADIES. the only tag list i’m using is the permanent one, nothing specifically for this series sorry!

“You guys said it wouldn’t last…” 

Natasha looks between the two of you. Steve’s beer is at his lips but he doesn’t take a sip. Wanda’s fingers pause in the bowl of popcorn she’s placed in her lap. Only Sam has a visibly emotional reaction. 

He’s on the verge of bursting— maybe in frustration as the two of you are blocking the television, maybe in laughter. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve hidden your hands behind your back. Nor does it help that you and Bucky are both grinning like giddy idiots while you stare at your friends who now sit with pin-straight postures on the sectional in your living room.

“And you were right!” you shout once several awkward beats have passed. 

There is a loud POP! when you bring your hands forward to twist the bottom of a party popper, iridescent confetti falling over the coffee table and tangling itself in Natasha’s hair, and a triple air horn sound effect cuts through the silence when Bucky opens the app on his phone. 

The two of you are laughing and high-fiving one another, but the four before you continue staring. 

That is, until longsuffering Sam— fingers pressed into his temples— speaks. “You called us over here to tell us you broke up?” 

Bucky shrugs and takes the empty party popper from you. He turns it over and shakes it, disappointed when more confetti doesn’t fall out. After all, he’d purchased the ones from Target just for the extra confetti. “We have consciously uncoupled.”

“That term refers to divorce,” Wanda says as she picks the confetti out of the popcorn and lets it fall to the floor. When she looks up, her expression is equal parts exasperation and amusement. “And, as far as I know, you two were never married.” 

Natasha, fingers combing through her hair, frowns. “I actually forgot you were even dating.”

“Yeah, so did she,” Bucky says as he jabs his elbow into your ribs with a snort. “We didn’t want you guys finding out from somewhere else.” 

“Like where?” Sam asks. He scoots over to let you sit beside him, eyes narrowed at Bucky who falls into his usual spot— the worn barcalounger you’d begged him not to bring when he moved in. “You think they’d send out a campus-wide alert that you two broke up? Or that E! News would be reporting it after they talk about whichever Kardashian is having another baby?” 

That steals Wanda’s attention from the popcorn bowl. “Speaking of, how is one of them always pregnant?” 

There’s a fair amount of indistinct chatter to answer Wanda’s question, but it is all loudly interrupted with a simple: “Does this mean Bucky is moving out?” 

It seems that everyone turns to look at Steve simultaneously. Squeaks of leather as you all shift around, the click of a bowl being placed on the wooden table. 

He understands the question in all of your gazes, and shrugs with a sigh of defeat. “They’re probably just genetically very fertile— Kris has had, like, eighteen children herself. Now, does Bucky have to find a place?” 

Then all eyes slide to you. Your eyebrows furrow and your nose wrinkles. The absolute picture of disbelief. It has Bucky fighting a smile. “Why would he need to do that?” 

“Living with an ex is hard,” Sam replies. He sets his hand on yours and gives your fingers a light squeeze. It’s meant to be comforting, but it isn’t necessary. “It’d make sense if you couldn’t—”

“Bucky moved in a while before we started dating,” you tell them, each word said in an imploring tone. “He still has his bedroom, I still have mine. Besides, we didn’t break-up because we can’t stand being around each other.” 

“Then why did you break-up?” 

The inquiry is directed at Bucky, who everyone shifts to face. The piercing attention draws a light blush over the bridge of his nose and at the highpoints of his cheeks. You hold back a soft laugh. “We’re just better as friends. The romantic compatibility wasn’t there.” 

“Romantic compatibility, conscious uncoupling,” Natasha repeats with a surprised laugh. “Does this man have a Goop membership, or something?” 

Despite your own laughter, you nod at Bucky. “He’s right, though. It just— Something was missing.” 

As inarticulate as it is, it’s the truth. There was nothing wrong with your relationship, at least at first glance. You kissed each other hello— when you remembered— and you kissed each other goodbye— when you remembered. 

But you often forgot— you usually forgot. Which might be explanation enough as to why the two of you didn’t last. 

— 

“Was the sex bad?” 

You nearly choke on the sip of wine you’d taken. Glancing at the boys in the living room to confirm they were blissfully unaware of Wanda in the kitchen, you set your glass onto the counter and narrow your eyes at her. “You should increase your volume the next time you ask something like that.” 

“It couldn’t have been too bad,” Natasha says from the barstool beside Wanda’s, still frowning. She’d managed to remove every piece of confetti from her hair and it now sits in a small pile next to her glass. “You two weren’t exactly virgins when you met.” 

Your answering smile is sarcastic. “Hilarious. The sex wasn’t bad. He’s— He’s good at it.” 

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Natasha snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “For his sake, I hope none of us let it slip that Barnes’ dick is trash.” 

“It isn’t trash! Okay.” You wiggle a finger at Wanda. “You. Imagine having sex with Steve.”

Her nose immediately wrinkles, her scowl instantaneous. “Understood. But then why date in the first place?” 

“Remember the night my ‘friends’ from high school were in the city?” 

The smile Natasha wore due to your finger quotes gives way to a deep grimace. “The night that girl with the bad bleach job pranced around here showing her ring off? I wish I could forget.” 

You nod. “All night, she kept telling me someone might be out there for me. That I probably won’t be too late, that some people end up alone and it’s okay. Like I’m tofu and she’s apple pie.” 

“You lost me with that one.”

“Like I’m an acquired taste and she’s universally appealing.” 

You smile when they laugh to themselves, but shake your head seconds later. “I don’t care if I end up alone. I’ll be fine either way. It’s just the insinuation that I’ll fail if I try to find someone. Like it’s prom all over again.” 

“D’you punch her teeth in? Can I punch her teeth in?”

You roll your eyes at Natasha. “I drank my weight in whatever bullshit wine she’s stupid enough to pay for, texted Bucky to pick me up, and fucked him on the couch to make myself feel better.” 

Her features twist in disgust. “The couch we all sit on?”

— 

While Sam yells at the television as if the New York Giants can hear his admonishments and advice, Steve sits back against the sofa cushions. His sigh is heavy and pointed, meant to draw attention, but it fails. 

So he places his feet on the coffee table. He crosses his legs at the ankle. And he glares. 

An unsuccessful moment later, he speaks. “I’m not gonna let you crash on my couch.” 

Unable to stop himself, Bucky smiles but otherwise focuses on the game. “That’s a fun psychic premonition. Do you read palms, too?” 

Steve attempts to look more threatening and narrows his eyes to slits. The blue is icy, menacing. 

However the elephant cushion he’s clutching to his chest? Not helping his cause. “So she dumped you because you’re a pain in the ass? Is that it?”

“She dumped me because I’m too good in bed and it was starting to become too much for her.” 

Sam pauses the game just to join Steve in looking at Bucky skeptically. 

He just rolls his eyes. “No one dumped anyone. We both decided we’re better as friends.” 

“S’usually a lie when people say that,” Steve remarks. He sticks his tongue out when Bucky narrows his eyes in offense. 

“It isn’t this time.” 

Sam, wearing a sly smile as he turns his attention back to the game, asks the next question: “Were there tears?” 

“She was stone cold.” Grinning as he holds his bottle of beer to his lips, he adds jokingly, “I cried like a baby, though.” 

Sam hums. “Not surprised. You fuckin’ sobbed at Inside Out.”

“Oh, so you didn’t cry when Bing Bong said ‘Take her to the moon for me’?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “What, are you a fuckin’ monster, Wilson?” 

The grinding of Steve’s teeth is almost audible, his irritation painfully evident when he tosses the cushion aside. 

Yet he still straightens it to make sure the elephant is sitting up straight, trunk pointed to the ceiling. 

“I’m being serious, Buck. Living with an ex... It’s touchy and awkward. How are you gonna feel when she’s got some guy over?” 

“The same way she’ll feel when I’ve got some girl over,” the answer is said with ease. “Hell, I’ll give her a condom if she needs one.” 

“And your feelings just turned themselves off?” 

His shrug is a bit reluctant, the smile he offers Steve hesitant. “Hers did.”

—

Hours pass before it’s just you and Bucky in the apartment. 

Natasha and Wanda leave first to get enough sleep before their eight-AM class, and Steve only manages to coax Sam off the couch once he has watched the game highlights and coverage twice over. You think you might scream if you ever hear the SportsCenter theme again.

Leaning against the door after it shuts behind Steve and Sam, you offer Bucky a sleepy smile as he rummages through the refrigerator. Judging by his sour expression, there’s nothing good to eat. “That was easier than I thought.” 

“Yeah, I’m real glad I read that ‘Telling the Children about the Divorce’ article for it.” He slams the fridge shut. There is desperation in his voice when he asks, “Are you hungry, too?” 

Dish rag tossed in his direction, you flip the faucet on to wet each glass. “When am I not hungry, Bucky?” 

“Are you more willing to pay for pizza or Thai?” 

“S’too late for Thai.” You set a washed glass atop the counter and get started on soaping up the next one. “We’ll get Thai when it’s your turn to pay.”

Three glasses sit on the counter before Bucky sets his phone down and begins drying them. He peers over at you with attempted tact.

But, to his dismay, you smile and meet his blue eyes with a playful glare. “What?” 

“Steve’s dead-set on me moving out.” 

Your frown is immediate. You stop scrubbing the popcorn bowl for a moment. “Do you want to move out?” 

His reply is instant. He stops drying a glass for a moment. “No. Do you want me to move out?” 

“No.” You resume scrubbing. “I can’t live here with anyone else.” 

Chewing on the inside of his cheek to avoid a grin, Bucky nods. He decides to change the subject and bumps his hip against yours. “Sam thought we were gonna tell everyone we got engaged.”

Startled laughter and you hand Bucky the washed bowl, switching the tap off and leaning your hip against the counter’s edge. “After, like, four months of dating? No wonder he looked so terrified.” 

“Should’ve played it off that way just to see what they’d say,” he muses as you help him put the dishes away. “Tasha would’ve hosted an intervention for you.” 

You hum in agreement. “Steve would’ve definitely called your mother.” 

“Would Wanda faint or is that too dramatic?” 

“She was ready to faint when I told her we had sex on the couch.” 

Eyebrows raised, he watches as you walk to the living room and fall into that exact couch with exaggerated relief. “You told her that?” 

Another hum. “Nat almost threw up.” 

“At the thought of us having sex in our own home?” he snorts, adding in a deadpan tone, “Oh, the horror.” 

Bucky collapses onto the couch beside you and smiles when you drop your head onto his shoulder. He toys with the stray pieces of confetti littered over the cushions. “Went all the way to Target for the more expensive poppers and they had even less confetti than the Party City ones.”

“Just because something costs more doesn’t mean it’s better.” 

He gasps playfully. “We have a genius in our midst. Someone please embroider everything she says onto pillows.” 

“Yeah and I’ll use those pillows to smother you in your sleep.” You lift your head and set your chin on his shoulder instead. You try to glare, but his smile is contagious. “I know where you live, Barnes.” 

“You won’t for long if Steve has it his way.” 

“If the world operated according to Steve’s wishes, we’d all be required, by law, to eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast and wear shirts two sizes too small.” 

--

CHAPTER 2: FINDING YOUR INDEPENDENCE 

[anghraine]

unpopular 🔥opinion: fandom's characterization of cassian (because i know you have FEELINGS about this lol)

Hahaha, yeah. A few >_>

Probably my firmest “what? no” is the idea that he’d grown detached from either his own actions or the Rebellion in general, or was just going through the motions, or was losing faith, or was repeating rote statements that he no longer really believed, or was obeying without really thinking about what he was doing, or anything of the kind.

No. Cassian’s entire character revolves around his unfaltering conviction in the cause. What he does for it fucks him up, absolutely. We see him go dazed and blank more than once, and this after twenty years—he’s not temperamentally suited to war. (One of the ways he most contrasts with Jyn, whose trauma gets channelled into violence rather than leaving her shaken by it. It’s easy to believe that she was a natural soldier, which Cassian manifestly is not.) But that does not in any way diminish his dedication to the overall cause. If anything, it only deepens it. 

He believes in the Rebellion, in the cause of fighting the Empire, with his entire being. There’s—I think it was Diego Luna who said that the hope of freedom for the galaxy is everything for Cassian. It really is. Fighting for it doesn’t make him happy, because he hates the methods required by his role and feels trapped in that, but no one could believe in the virtue and necessity of liberation more fiercely.

Relatedly, his arc is not about blindly following orders. He’s not blindly following them at all (he knows perfectly well what he’s doing; that’s why it haunts him). He mentions following orders exactly once, and he never says that he was “just following orders”—only that it was a big deal for him to disobey them, yet he did anyway, which is a much more limited and fair statement.

His establishing character moment has absolutely nothing to do with orders: moral compromises are integral to his work, whether he’s told to make them(Galen) or chooses them independently(Tivik). That’s what his arc is about. “You can’t ever compromise personal morals or you’re as bad as them” is facile and something he rightly dismisses as an easy way out for those who won’t commit to the work and sacrifice of large-scale organizational effort when the stakes are tyranny and genocide. But even then, there have to be lines somewhere, and his development is about squaring the common good with the cost of specific actions.

(FWIW, I actually think that’s what he’s talking about when he tells Jyn that he disobeyed orders, and that it matters but she doesn’t understand. I don’t think Cassian cares that Jyn isn’t an obedient person in general, but he cares a whole lot that she won’t commit to systematic effort in which obedience and cohesion are necessary.)

I think for a lot of fandom, the Rebellion is bad for him, but I don’t see it that way. For Cassian, the Rebellion on the whole is a force for good. The specific role he fills is bad for him (though unfortunately, it’s where he can accomplish the most for the Rebellion, before open war). But the cause itself is his bread and water. Leaving the Rebellion would be vastly worse for him than anything they might ask him to do.

Also relatedly: I think Cassian’s pragmatism, self-control, intelligence, and eloquence make him seem more cerebral than he really is. At his core, Cassian is governed by his emotions. He has plenty of reasons behind fighting the Empire, but as he himself points out, the conviction he feels as an adult is fundamentally the same conviction that struck him as a six-year-old child and has fueled him for the rest of his life. It’s not a conclusion he reached through logic or any sort of systematic reasoning, but something he instinctively feels.

(In fandom terms: that’s why Cassian is a Gryffindor, though he can look superficially like a Slytherin or even Hufflepuff. He can seem like an Enneagram Six, but he’s actually a One. He mimics an ISTJ, but is really a closet INFJ.)

Likewise, there’s no real thought process that leads him to keep going after Jyn, even at risk to the mission. He feels the need to do it, so he does. It’s the same thing back in the beginning, with the blaster—Kay is right that there’s no earthly reason for him to let her keep it. Cassian himself is clearly annoyed over the whole thing, and has no actual rationale for himself or others. But the thing with Cassian is that, whatever he might tell himself, he doesn’t really need logical reasons. Something in him says to let her have it, so he does.

I’ve pointed it out quite a few times, but I think it’s important and overlooked—Cassian does not decide against shooting Galen in that pivotal moment. He can’t make himself do it. It’s not an intellectual decision but overpowering emotional imperative that he feels miserable and helpless about.

I think we really see that aspect of him with the paired luxury lines. I was talking with @ladytharen the other day about those, and one of the things we noticed was that—okay, both unfairly accuse the other of things that aren’t luxuries at all (anti-fascism, survival). But they don’t frame the luxuries in the same way. She says the luxury is the opportunity to form and act on opinions. He says the luxury is the capacity to not care, or to be able to limit the extent of it to personal convenience. For Jyn, luxury is about thought; for Cassian, it’s about emotion.

You can see that in their calls to action. Jyn has sat and reflected and when the time comes to make her case, she has a list of reasons, cerebral and emotional. Cassian takes a read of the room, decides it’s pointless, and ditches the whole thing to inspire his own sort of people. He doesn’t supply an argument for why he believes her; he just announces that he does, and his belief carries others with him. In a way, it’s like Jyn’s adoption of “rebellions are built on hope”; he doesn’t argue the point, he just informs her of it as an objective fact, and she’s influenced despite herself.

(WRT Galen’s message, it’s clear that he believed her all along; he very much wanted a reversal of his orders after he sent updated information post-Jedha. “I’m not the one you’ve got to convince” is a deflection, but it’s also—true. He doesn’t need to be convinced.)

…even more tangential, but I think it’s also part of the reason for the distinction in their speech. Cassian’s internal world is dominated by feeling and instinct, and it’s natural for his emotions to flow into language. That’s probably why he’s so good at his job—making people feel the inspiration that he himself does. Or the urgency, as with Tivik: but it’s fundamentally a vehicle for expressing emotion.

So, say, in the fight on Eadu, Jyn should be in a much stronger position as the wronged party; the other characters are very evidently on her side. But her usual choppy style is hobbled further by her overpowering emotion. She struggles to find the words, and the ones she does find are fumbling at best—like, the notorious stormtrooper line gets attention for being inconsiderate, but it also just doesn’t make sense as a response to Cassian saying that he disobeyed orders. You can see where it comes from, but it’s awkward and inappropriate (rhetorically; I’m not talking about morality). 

Cassian, though, only gets more talkative as he gets upset; and the angrier he is, the more powerfully he speaks. I think it’s where the otherwise-??? “you can’t talk your way out of this” comes from. Cassian isn’t really trying to talk his way out of it in the usual sense. Everything he says is entirely heartfelt, and by and large in direct response to what she says to him. But there is a reason it feels that way to Jyn. 

He’s able to get the upper hand (or something like it) in the argument, not by any diminishment of actual guilt, but simply because he’s so much better at articulating what he feels and where he’s coming from. So her frustration specifically attaches itself to his talking—it seems like he’s bullshitting his way out of trouble to her, while that’s nonsensical to him.

Aaaand it’s there in the hangar. Jyn has her sarcastic one-off, but when he’s all earnestness and loyalty and heart-eyes, she’s largely at a loss for words. Cassian has that whole (quite lovely!) everything-I-did-I-did-for-the-Rebellion speech, and meanwhile we see the emotion she feels in her face, her gulp, her smile, her body language as they draw together, but all she can say is the awkward “not used to people sticking around.” Cassian, though, immediately responds with the beautiful “welcome home.” 

Again in the shuttle: Jyn meanders through a speech that has some good phrases, some awkward ones (Saw’s sharpened stick), some near-cringeworthy (find a way to find them!). Cassian bypasses all of that for the much more powerful “make ten men feel like a hundred.” It’s even there on the beach, where Jyn is obviously full of emotion, but she doesn’t have words. She does express herself, but it’s physical: she’s the one who reaches for his hand, she strains to hold him tightly. Cassian, also tactile, significantly more injured, can’t help but speak. And, as ever, what springs to his tongue is exactly the right thing to say.

We can consider their expressions, too! They’ve both been afraid and determined through the mission, but in those final moments, resolve seems uppermost with Jyn, fear with Cassian. Her eyes are firmly open the whole time; Cassian squeezes his eyes shut until the last moment. It’s not any weakness of his; it’s just that, for all their deep similarities, Jyn is dominated by her head and Cassian by his heart.

(This has gone on and on and on, but it’s one of the things I find most interesting about them. Cassian is the more controlled, cautious, articulate, by-the-book, abstracted—all things we tend to associate with ‘the head.’ Jyn is reckless, impulsive, violent, defiant, individualistic—things we tend to associate with ‘the heart.’ But it’s at once the other way around and completely consistent.)

[puddinsgirl]

Some things that suck about new Harley Quinn series

- The stupid “Joker pushed Harley in the vat of chemicals” origin story. Yeah I get it, you want to present Harley as the victim, but can't she be the victim of abuse for the audience to sympathize with if she chose the life of crime herself? Does it nullify the abuse she later suffered? Is that why it had to be twisted into this bs origin story? Isn't that kinda fucked up?

- The whole victim narrative. Harley is so much more than the Joker's victim. She enjoyed the life of crime viewing it as glamorous. Yes, she is naive, playful, cute and sometimes even kind. People can be like that, but at the same time they can also be selfish, cruel and violent. Like, she planned to use confidential conversations she had with her patient for a tell-all book. It feels like some people don't understand this and get uncomfortable for rooting for her despite her being a villain so they decided to squeeze her into this victim/hero/power grrl mold sacrificing the other side of the character. For me, those two sides were what made Harley's character so interesting and unique in the first place.

- Representing Harley's original jester costume as the symbol of her being Joker's victim and/or 'just a sidekick'. Yeah sure, if Joker had forced her to wear the jester costume. But no: She chose the jester costume in a party store herself and used it even when she was not with the Joker (Harleys early 2000s solo series anyone?). At this point I wouldn't even be surprised if this was the part of the new bs origin story created to gaslight fans who hate her new design and love the original. And don't forget that the costume she 'chooses' for herself to represent her as the new sTrOnG and pOwERfuLl fEmAle is basically tight hot pants and a crop top: An outfit completely useless in fighting and doing gymnastics, but conventional when trying to appeal to greasy male fans. Because the long time pet peeve of male creators is to say that female characters wear unpractical but overly sexual costumes because they are just so cOnFiDent wItH tHeiR sExuAlity. Yeah, how convenient.

- Kaley Cuoco's voice. Like gosh, I know no one can be Arleen Sorkin but Arleen Sorkin herself, but can't she even try to make Harley's signature squeaky voice? I don't have anything against Kaley Cuoco as an actress and I have no idea from who the decision not to use more 'harleyish' voice came from, but Harley without her high-pitched voice is like Poison Ivy without homicidal tendencies. Speaking of which...

- Poison Ivy's character aka “a classic misanthrope with abandonment issues who befriends plants to avoid human intimacy”. The direct quote from the series. Classifying her relationship with plants just a way to avoid abandonment is like the cheapest home psychology ever and the most boring possible way to interpret her character. I swear, besides Harley, Ivy has been the most botched character of DCU during the past 10 years. Also she was apparently cured by “genius psychiatrist Dr. Quinzel”, another direct quote. Harley was an intern in Arkham. That she was an intern doesn't make her stupid, that she fell for the Joker doesn't make her stupid either, nor does her naive and playful nature. But I'm starting to think the show runners think the original Harley was stupid since her new genius has to be smeared all over our faces. Again another example of how little they understand the character.

- Excessive cursing and sexual references. Like you probably have noticed, I have no problem with cursing, but trying to force the narrative of tHiS iS nOw aN AduLT sHoW by having characters curse all the time or talk about finger banging seems just a desperate and cheap effort to be edgy when the narrative doesn't actually have much to offer.

- The show's sole purpose seems to be promoting Birds of Prey and Suicide Squad 2. Right from the costume criticism to the forced grrrl power narrative trying to appeal to liberal young female audience. This is completely fine, but when you can literally see it from miles away and when it's done with the laziest way possible it turns annoying fast.

- The whole strong woman narrative. I'm a feminist and I'm so tired of female representations where the character is stripped of all her personality and turned to this sTrOnG fEmInIsT WoMan or at least to what people think a strong feminist woman is like. Feminism isn't about that all women should be “strong”, but that all women should be allowed to be humans that can be complex, imperfect and even unlikable. Why is it that Joker is still one of the most popular characters and still general narrative hasn't felt the need to start to change him into a hero? Why can we still sympathize with his sad origin story, but still judge all the horrible things he does? How's this any different from Harley? Let female characters be complex too.

[motheatenscarf]

So, I recently recommended Castlevania to people based on the first 2 seasons, and having now seen the 3rd season I’m still keeping that recommendation but with some pretty strong warnings going in.

The TL;DR version is, I still recommend this series with the caveat that your mileage may vary depending on your tolerance for sexual themes and more specifically your sensitivity toward sexual assault. 

So uh, spoiler in the spoiler disclaimer, but content warning for discussion of the above themes. I apologize to mobile readers; this got long. I only feel the need to say all this because I have in the past recommended this show to people before these elements came into play in the first 2 seasons. So, I kind of owe it to those people who may have taken my recommendation to follow through now.

I’m sure it won’t come as a shock to anyone (or at least I hope it won’t) that Castlevania, the show which introduces its wandering drunk protagonist by having him overhear two inbred shit eating peasants in a bar talking about literal goat fucking, has a pretty cynical view on humanity and is a pretty hard R.

Most of that R rating and cynicism has been in regard to gore and Christianity and I’ve been extremely on board and pettily here for it. For all that it’s a gory mess with plenty of colorful language, however, it’s been extremely restrained when it comes to sexuality. 

For my ace ass, that was kind of an appeal. I’m not opposed to sexuality in my media, but people do tend to make it... egregious and often unbalanced. It often feels that any media that gets that R rating just goes “Fuck it, may as well!” regarding shoehorning its nudity and sexuality. And frankly, censorship laws in the United States are FUCKING ANTIQUATED AS ALL HELL, so a rape scene where the camera ogles the woman’s breasts as she’s assaulted? Yeah, sure, that’s an R. Consensual sex scene that shows no genitalia but the woman in clear arousal? That’s an NC-17 for you. And that’s just women; don’t get me started on queer censorship, we’d be here all day. So, given the country I live in, the fact that I like horror and fantasy, and the fact that I’m an asexual woman, you can maybe see where my stance on sexual themes in any adult oriented media is just, an exasperated sigh as I boredly sit through another rape scene.

So, our first scene in Castlevania S3 is of Alucard, having been alone for the last month now, slowly losing his mind to crippling loneliness and overwhelming guilt after having murdered his father where Trevor and Sypha took him at his word when he said he would be the lone guardian standing vigil over Dracula’s castle and the Belmont library. Turns out he was wrong about being fine, which we knew from last season as it ended with him alone in his room sobbing his heart out, but he’s already losing his grip here as he makes little puppets of Sypha and Trevor to carry conversation with. An eccentricity he fully acknowledges is insane.

Our next scene confirms through dialogue that Trevor and Sypha are now in a sexual relationship, even though they’re only ever shown cuddling up in bed talking about The Plot and various happenings a few episodes later. Nothing explicit is ever depicted between them.

Alucard, on the other hand, picks up a couple of strays who were the thralls of one of the vampires killed last season, specifically the evidently Japanese one named “Cho” and our two new characters............ I had to google their names, Sumi and Taka, are also Japanese. They ask him to train them to kill vampires to protect their clan. Alucard, clearly remembering what he said about “Think of all the things Dracula could have done if he’d put all this knowledge toward helping people instead of giving into his rage and destroying them,” decides to agree and help them. He is clearly trying to be the person his mother would have wanted. Aww. 

Except not aww, Taka and Sumi are two clearly traumatized and deeply flawed people from the masses which this series is, again, extremely cynical toward. They are unsubtley fixated on learning more and more powerful ways to kill vampires and Alucard is pretty chill about it because he can’t see through the 4th wall and hear the ominous music or the glances they exchange when he’s not looking. This is purely for the audience. They at one point have a discussion away from him where they try to psychoanalyze him and decide that his isolation is a self imposed punishment for killing Dracula and that this is as close as he can get to killing himself without actually doing it. THIS IS FOR THE AUDIENCE. Then they mentioned they should give him a reward for what he’s done for them.

What happens next is difficult to break down from their standpoint, as they’re not particularly well developed characters, not being Important Characters but just a duo from the masses which the show dismisses, but if you’ve caught a single frame of Alucard this season, is easy enough to explain from his perspective. They come to him at night when he can’t sleep, tell him he deserves a reward, and proceed to make sexual advances toward him, which he seems somewhat embarrassed and confused by at first before quickly becoming a participant in. Again, it is well established by this point that he desperately misses Trevor and Sypha, whom he was already jealous of the connection between last season, and is profoundly lonely. The sex, which he consents to, is clearly a proxy as it’s all he can get for now. The sex is also, unfortunately, initiated under false pretenses, and ends abruptly when the whole thing turns into a Christ allegory and they pin Alucard in the crucifix position after having betrayed him with a kiss (and then some) and demand he show them the secrets they’re certain he’s hiding from them. Alucard tries to reason with them, still insisting he knows they’re scared but that he’s been nothing but honest with them, but they’re too traumatized and broken to believe him, and so he kills them in self defense, all still right there on the bed where they were having sex. He then, reminiscent of Dracula from the series opening, stakes their bodies before the entrance to the castle as a warning to those who would come to harm him, telling the audience that he is Lisa’s son in many ways, but he is also Dracula’s, and is realizing with time and experience now that his father’s sentiment toward humanity may not have been so misplaced.

So you know. Lot to unpack there...

BUT THAT AIN’T IT, FOLKS!

There’s another, far less interesting (unbiased review here, folks) character named Hector. He’s a forgemaster which means he makes monsters which are loyal only to him. He’s no Isaac (whom I’d mentioned his backstory/characterization just kinda left a general bad taste in my mouth before but OH BABY, AM I CHANGING TUNE ON THAT ONE. Could write a whole review on Isaac but I’m gonna stay focused here) but he’s apparently here to stay, so fine. 

There was an evil femme fatale vampire last season who kinda bored me who tricked Hector into betraying Dracula and then took him captive when she got what she wanted out of him. She did not trick him with sex at least but was still “evil manipulative femme fatale” which... *yawn* In S3 she drags him back to her home country and then proceeds to talk to her own sort of war council on how to get him to make a monster army for them to use that won’t just kill them all.

The lesbian vampire war council are fuckin interesting and I love 2 of them. The other one is an actually evil seductress femme fatale who DOES manipulate him with sex. Yay. How original. Well at least there are finally enough interesting, compelling women in the story that this isn’t our token evil female vampire so it’s easy for me to shrug off and forgive. All you need to know about Hector is he played with dead animals as a kid, it freaked his parents out when he kept reviving dead things, he killed them, now he’s a dead critter loving sensitive weirdo who was willing to participate in a “humane cull” that would leave the human race in essentially livestock pens for vampires. 

So the entire time the red headed femme fatale is trying to get him to see that she’s not so bad, vampires can be civil, we don’t want what Dracula wanted, my sister didn’t trick you she appealed to your reason, blahblahblah, she’s calling him a “good boy” and leading him on, i fucking quote, “walkies” with a leash. There’s also a comment that she tended to an injured spider once. So,, y’know, she’s him, which means she’s best suited to manipulating him. And Hector even admits to being aware of what she’s doing and calls her out on it, but he’s trapped and doesn’t have much of a choice other than to go along with what she does and weirdly seems almost content at times. His weird naturalist... weirdness probably gives him some inferiority complex when it comes to vampires, I don’t know, his backstory and motive are not connected in the least and I’m frankly not interested enough in this character to give him much contemplation since it’s pretty clear there wasn’t much going into his creation. Anyway. Long story short, she eventually, with only technically lying to him about the purpose of a particular ring she wears, lures him into having sex with her and in the heat of passion has him swear loyalty to her before slipping a cursed ring on him which binds him exactly as he’d just sworn, essentially making him a slave. The sex, again, also stops here, but she makes some extremely unsettling comments later on about how he was surprisingly good at sex and she might “train him.” Which.... where to begin other than yikes, and why, and, where in the hell was a guy who played with dead animals supposed to learn to eat a bitch out like that anyway??

This is where we also, tying the themes together, learn that one of the allies Trevor and Sypha have been teaming up with was a child killer the whole time. They only learn this after he dies helping them fight the evil that had come to his town (and after the most iconic line of the season; “What the fuck is toilet paper?”) which they accomplish, but not before failing to save anyone in the village, which was consumed in an evil ritual. They’re alone again, with a distraught Sypha realizing what Trevor had tried to forget by getting caught up in her optimism, that, say it with me now;

So there is your mostly unbiased spoilery context for the scenes in question. You can make up your own mind from there if that’s something you can handle, I’m gonna go on to add a few of my own thoughts which do not represent how I believe anyone else should interpret the show, this is purely my own train of thought here.

Sex consented to under false pretenses is still rape. I don’t know that I would personally classify these as “rape scenes,” but that’s just me. The reaction of the characters afterward makes me think Hector’s comes closer than Alucard’s, but the fact that both have appropriate reactions to being sexually betrayed makes me think that’s mostly what people are talking about when they say either one was raped. Hector later falls to his knees in a panic and hopelessness as he realizes “You made me a slave, my life is over,” and Alucard just lays there on the floor where he murdered his father as he weeps silently in contemplation of his own despair. That’s... some heavy shit, and I can, again, easily see where someone with a history of abuse or assault can be completely traumatized all over again watching this. As for the leeriness/attempting to be titilating/making rape “sexy” that a lot of adult fantasy/horror does... eh? I’m asexual, none of it’s sexy to me, and I was paying attention to the visual and audio cues the entire time that were making the audience aware with their ominous music, flashing between sex and battles against evil, and watching the instigators (Taka and Sumi, and Lenore the femme fatale vampire) as the camera focused on their scheming faces. The camera in Alucard’s scene especially just seemed to want to show us how sad and lonely he is, but that was pretty well established by that point and I know a sex scene devolving into a murder scene is jarring for people.

The themes of the season were manipulation, trust, and betrayal. Hector’s story reaches a pivotal turning point the moment the ring is slipped on him. Could it have been implemented differently than through the femme fatale seduction route? Absolutely, the show hadn’t really adopted sexual themes until this season and probably could have done so without it. She’d already lied to Hector an said that the rings were symbols she and her sisters wore to unite them, she could have been lying and welcomed him to join them and gotten him to swear loyalty to them in a ceremony after spending more time getting him to trust her. It was dumb and unnecessary and probably added in there just so maybe Alucard wasn’t the sole bearer of such an experience, or maybe because they shifted his plotline to fit in with the established themes, or maybe they could only sneak a bisexual threesome past the censors if they threw in more straight sex. What can I say? The cynicism of this show is relatable.

Alucard’s was less “Yikes” for me because he was never in a position where he didn’t have emotional or physical power over Taka and Sumi, he was a mentor to them who made no sexual advances whatsoever and seemed to only want to participate in their advances because it temporarily made him feel loved and worthy only to have the rug pulled out from under him and remind him that much more painfully of how alone he is, and how right his father may have been, and how wrong he was for killing him. Could this have been done without a sex scene? Yep, it always can. I know what the writers were trying to convey and I personally don’t have an issue with it and see its effectiveness, but I fully acknowledge another hour of spitballing in the writer’s room would have avoided that. I don’t necessarily think it’s a good or bad thing that they included this, it just... is, for me. I personally think if they’re going to confirm the sexual relationship between Trevor and Sypha, though, and then show us that Alucard is clearly missing them, there’s kinda one natural conclusion to make on how Alucard’s relationship with these two was going to go. I actually think it should have been better established and more time should have been spent on his relationship with them and depicted it as romantic/sexual from an earlier stage rather than just seemingly coming out of nowhere to people who hadn’t realized, “Oh, they’re his proxies,” earlier. I personally found it more tragic than traumatizing, but I don’t have a history of sexual abuse, so that is my own biased interpretation. If someone has that experience, I would not blame them in the least for finding this unpalatable.

Other arguments I’ve seen are, why is the only bi character shown to go through this kind of trauma? I mean, Alucard is our only confirmed bi character left for now, but Isaac is heavily implied to be queer, and again. Cynical universe. And he isn’t the only character period to go through it. They’re not singling him out because he’s bi, he’s just going through a character arc and is bi. I acknowledge again it could have been handled better but I don’t necessarily think this is biphobia so much as it is... unfortunate tone deafness. Tokenism is the problem, not Alucard’s bisexuality, so here’s hoping that we get another bi or queer character soon because as of right now, it’s just rife with unfortunate implications. I had this exact issue with Isaac’s backstory/characterization last season as our lone man of color with a major role and they immediately fixed his arc this season along with introducing several new characters of color and it was honestly the highlight of the season, so... the writers have proven to me that they can learn from their mistakes and spin my suspicion into HYPE, so I’m willing to give them through season 4 to see what they do with it.

I have also seen the argument for, why are the only Japanese characters tricky and sexually manipulative? Well, because they’re human and the show is extremely cynical in its depiction of humanity, we’ve just mostly seen that with white Europeans so far. As I mentioned before, tokenism is the problem. Is it annoying to see a sexually manipulative femme fatale vampire? Yes. Can I live with it and shrug it off a helluva lot easier when we get butch warrior vampire and tactical genius vampire talking back and forth about how they plan to conquer and drink an entire nation while espousing their affection for one another? Also yes!  While we do finally get a lot more characters of color this season who are fleshed out and beautifully complex and sympathetic, I think Taka and Sumi could have been better explored, since their mistrust of Alucard makes sense but their decision to have sex with him in order to get his guard down is... really not apparent other than through speculation with 0 textual evidence to support it. I don’t think they’re sexually manipulative because they’re Japanese, I think they’re sexually manipulative because the plot calls for it and they happen to be the only Asian characters we have for now and the writers made another pretty tone deaf decision. Behind the scenes, I do wonder if they were chosen from specifically Cho’s court just so the animators had an excuse to draw her some more/get that Japanese audience invested. Orientalism is a helluva thing here in the west though, and the sexualization of east Asians is especially fucked up and I’m not gonna say this did not have catastrophically tone deaf implications. I hope we get more Asian characters with a nuanced depiction, and even though they are the only Asian characters, they are not the only sexual abusers and they are far from the only sympathetically broken but dangerous characters we see.  

This is also, I’m fairly certain, a dual-studio production, and I do know Castlevania is a Japanese video game series based on European vampire stories, and in the endless love letter between Japanese and American media, some things gets botched in the exchange. That doesn’t excuse it, and that doesn’t mean it isn’t harmful, but I also don’t think it means “Cancelvania.” But I’m Mexican-American, and Not Asian-American, or more specifically Japanese-American, so, this is purely my perspective. 

I won’t defend the choices, I certainly won’t argue with people who draw a line in the sand and say “This is unacceptable, I won’t watch this,” that’s a valid perspective to have. To me, the writers through Isaac have proven they know when and how to correct course when they need to, so I’m cautiously optimistic that this was all build up for a dynamite season 4 if/when we get it. The show is cynical, I’m cynical, but I can recognize careful writing when I see it, and to me the highlights of this unrepentantly stupid fucking show that I kinda love are gonna be worth sticking through the stuff that makes me wrinkle my nose with concern because I want to see where it goes. A time may come when that stops being the case, but for me it hasn’t reached that point yet. I completely understand if it has for anyone else though.

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

Leather and lace

Bakukami week day 6 (Part two) : Clothes @officialbakukamiweek Summary: Kaminari’s closet was a place the girls adored and a certain boy is curious about. So, he and a friend sneak in and have a peek. Read on Ao3

The first time they hear about the girl's borrowing something from Kaminari's closet, it's a jacket and it's Jirou. A beautiful garnet leather jacket, with a champagne fur lining around the hood. Silver chains adorned the pockets, gold accents on the buttons. The black silken lining showed partly on the short jacket, coming down to Jirou's waist.

"Woah, Jirou! Where did you get that jacket?!" Ashido and Hagakure yelled upon the sight of her walking towards the door.

"Oh, this?" She motioned to said article of clothing, "I snatched it from Kaminari's closet this morning."

"Seriously? That thing is the bomb!" Ashido grinned, "I'll need to raid his closet next; the boy's got style!"

However, the males in the room didn't quite understand. It was just a jacket, why was it such a big deal?

"I think that's one of Kacchan's father's designs," Midoriya said, staring at the piece. "The stitchwork is right, and this is certainly something he would have made..."

"Oh hell no," Ashido rolled her eyes, "I follow their fashion designs religiously. That is not one of His designs."

Jirou shrugged, "Look, I've got a date with the most beautiful girl in the world, and I'm going to be late." She shrugged off her jacket, checking the tag, only to raise an eyebrow, "There's no tag."

"We'll just ask him when he gets back," Ojirou smiled, "So go on, enjoy your date with Yaoyorozu."

Jirou left quickly, and Midoriya turned to the other three sitting with him. "We could just ask Kacchan when he gets back if Kaminari's busy."

"Didn't they leave together?" Hagakure asked, her gloved hands flailing around wildly to Ojirou's amusement.

"Yeah, they-" Ashido was about to explain, only to remember how Kaminari and Bakugo had wanted to keep their relationship on the down low as much as possible and thought better of it. "They had to catch the bus," She smiled, chuckling. She would not be outing her friends today.

They didn't remember to ask, once the two returned to the dorms.

The next time they hear about it, it's a shirt and it's Hagakure. Half black and half white, black from the chest down including the sleeves which covered her hands mostly, with a hole for her thumb. Slightly sheer, enough that her blue bralette was able to be seen.

"Oh, my, Hagakure," Yaoyorozu commented, her face a nice blossoming pink, "Are you sure that's appropriate?"

"If Kaminari can wear it, I can too!" The invisible girl said, turning around to face her friends.

Kirishima sat next to Yaoyorozu, Midoriya, and Todoroki with him as well.

"Did you get that from Kaminari's closet?" Kirishima raised an eyebrow, the one slightly dented by his scar, and stared at Hagakure.

"Yeah! Jirou got her jacket a few days ago, so I asked if I could borrow a shirt!"

"I swear, I've seen that somewhere before..." Midoriya mumbled, staring at it.

Todoroki looked uninterested, instead focusing on his phone and typing away. Likely texting his sister.

"Dunno where man. I've never seen it on anyone before." Kirishima looked back at his game, making sure he hadn't died.

"Well, if only it weren't so sheer, it'd be a nice shirt." Yaoyorozu sighed.

"Thanks! Anyway, I'm on my way to meet 'Rao's friends, wish me luck!" Hagakure waved, running out the door with her grin only able to be seen by the lipstick she wore.

"I know I've seen it before.." Midoriya began his rant of mumbling, creating a wonderful background noise for Kirishima.

Of course, Kirishima knew where he'd gotten the shirt, and he hadn't been lying when he said he'd never seen it on anyone before. He'd seen it, of course, on Bakugo's floor when he'd come knocking one night to ask if Bakugo wanted to join him at the gym in the morning, unaware of the couple inside.

Once more, they forgot to ask when the blondes came down.

The third time it happens, it's a dress and it's Ashido. Well, either a dress or a long shirt, distressed denim and button up to her knees, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. There were pockets around her thighs, hand stitched patches all along the extra fabric. Yin Yang symbols, flowers, a beautiful dragon along the side of the left one.

It didn't cling to her body in any way, instead hanging off of her shoulders and flowing freely.

"Hey, Mina!" Sero grinned, playing a game with Midoriya and Uraraka on their Xbox, pausing it to talk to the pink girl, "Looking good!"

"Thanks." Ashido yawned, "It was comfy. My turn to snag something from Kaminari."

"What is it with his closet that's so appealing to you girls?" Sero asked, looking at Uraraka, who shrugged.

"Dude, his closet is a fashion wonderland! The comfy stuff is in the drawers, though." Ashido plopped down next to Uraraka, "And he's small enough that his stuff fits us!"

"I wouldn't know, sorry. Deku, why are you staring at Ashido?"

"Every time one of you girls wears something from his closet, I'm more and more sure that it's made by Kacchan's dad," Midoriya mumbled, "But they're not labeled, and if I ask Kacchan, he'll just blow up in my face and I always forget when Kaminari's around!"

"Dude, it's not that crazy," Sero shrugged, about to continue his sentence when Ashido held up her hand, acid about to drip from her fingertips as she drew it across her throat, glaring at the other teen. Letting out an awkward chuckle, Sero looked at Midoriya and grinned. "Kaminari likes fashion, so he might have some of his dad's stuff in there."

"Yeah!" Ashido joined him in his grinning.

"We could go look, Deku?" Uraraka proposed, smiling innocently.

"M-Maybe not a good idea, Uraraka," Midoriya chuckled nervously, "H-He's part of Kacchan's group, and. And." He stumbled over his words, getting redder and redder by the second.

"Or, ya know," Sero raised an eyebrow, "You could just go up to him and ask?"

"He's out right now, left earlier a bit after Kacchan did."

The two Bakusquad members glanced at one another. Were they even trying to hide it?

"So, let's go up there and look through his closet! C'mon, Deku, you've been curious!" Uraraka said, grinning. She got up and dragged Midoriya out of his seat, despite his nervous stuttering and walked with him over to the elevator, Ashido and Sero not far behind.

"You think they're gonna find out?" Ashido asked, and Sero shrugged.

"I don't know, but either way, Bakugo's not gonna be happy."

Their phones dinged simultaneously, the group chat updating with a new message.

Ashido pulled out her phone, pulling up the chat and grinning up at Sero.

"Oh my word, Sero, look at this!" She held her phone up, showing the message from Kaminari.

'So, Katsu and I have decided to come out about our relationship! You guys don't have to keep it a secret anymore! We're gonna request that we come out to our extended squad. From there, go off!' It included a cute photo of Kaminari snuggled up to Bakugo, kissing his cheek in public, the older teen's face bright red and embarrassed. Bakugo was so embarrassed, though it could be seen that he held hands with the other blonde, at least holding the one which wasn't taking the photo.

"That's awesome! Think we should tell them?" Sero glanced at Midoriya and Uraraka.

"Nah, I'm looking forward to them going through his closet. He's got some nice stuff, Sero!"

Their phones dinged again, Kirishima sending a reply about how wonderful and manly it was to show off with a significant other. He rambled on about how proud he was of them, loving who they loved and not being afraid to let the world know. Especially when they loved someone so awesome and pretty! No one knew if he meant those individually, or if they were meant as a compliment to both of them. When the three dots appeared, Ashido and Sero shut off notifications in preparation for the onslaught from Bakugo.

Somehow, they'd ended up walking up the stairs as they read, already on the third floor. Okay then.

They walked over to Kaminari's room, Midoriya and Uraraka already in the room due to the elevator being faster. Peering into the room, they could see the two already having opened the closet, Uraraka walking into the small walk-in closet and grinning.

"Deku, C'mon, look around with me! There's- Ah!" She slipped over a pair of heeled boots, falling to the floor and Midoriya went over to her, worrying about her.

"Are you okay? Uraraka, what happened?"

"I'm fine, I just tripped." She said, chuckling lightly to lessen the tension. Ashido and Sero moved in towards them, sitting on the end of Kaminari's bed and going onto their phones. Either to record or dissociate from the situation, they didn't quite know yet.

Midoriya looked around the closet, seeing the normal clothing he would expect of Kaminari. Band T-shirts, lots of leather, especially jackets and pants.

"Oh my word, that's so cute!" Uraraka said, pointing at a pink oversized sweatshirt. She reached up, taking it off of its hanger and getting up, holding it against her body. "I'm totally borrowing this!"

"U-U-Uraraka! You really shouldn't. Shouldn't take his clothes!" Midoriya protested, looking around desperately for help.

"You were curious, though!" She grinned, noting how about half of Kaminari's shirts were oversized to accommodate for the current fashion trends, while others were tight and slick. His pants were probably properly fitting, however. "Deku, look at this! It's in English!" She pointed to a parchment colored shirt, writing on it with quotes from classic authors in English all over, making Kaminari seem like much more of a nerd than before. It was right next to a red lace and silk top which Uraraka noted to borrow later.

"I-I am but! This is too much!" Midoriya protested, but he saw a box at the back of the closet without a label and it caught his eye. Every other box was labeled. 'Hats', 'boots', 'pajamas', 'Soft clothes', 'Costumes' even down to the season. So why wasn't this box labeled? He reached over, despite his anxiety running through the roof, and a voice which sounded suspiciously like Iida's in his head telling him this was a bad idea. He picked it up and saw another box behind it. This one wasn't labeled either.

"What'd ya find?" Uraraka asked, leaning over his shoulder to look at the boxes.

"I don't quite know, really," Midoriya sat on the floor, taking the two boxes and handing one to Uraraka, "Open this one, I'll take the other one."

Uraraka nodded, taking the smaller of the two boxes and opening it, her pink cheeks going bright red at the sight of something rather lacy which belonged in Midnight's closet. Beautiful black lace stockings, with three variants. Garter belted ones, thigh highs, and regular pantyhose. Closing the box, she set it aside, her face aflame

"Oh. Uh, yeah. That just happened. Deku, don't go into that box."

"Huh?"

"Your innocent eyes should never, ever see what is in that box, Deku. It would ruin you."

At this point, Sero and Ashido shared a look, walking out of the room to save themselves from what was coming.

"What do you mean?"

"Just trust me," Uraraka said, "So, what's in your box?" She prayed silently that it wouldn't be anything worse than what she had just seen.

Midoriya opened his box, which was larger and lighter than the other, and looked inside.

"It's more clothes. Seems like a lot of hoodies and sweaters, but I think there are some sweatpants in here too, from the looks of things," He took one of the hoodies out, all black and rather warm. The scent of caramelized sugar came from the box and upon seeing the white skull on the front of the hoodie he shoved it back into the box with a squeak of, "We need to get out of here, now!"

The sound of crackling came from outside of the closet, Bakugo's growling accompanying it.

"Ka-Kacchan!" Midoriya squeaked, Uraraka's eyes widening and she nervously smiled, waving.

"H-Hey, Bakugo." She said, but Bakugo didn't seem very amused by it. The crackling increased, his maniacal grin spreading wider.

"You have three seconds to explain before I murder the both of you for going through my boyfriend's fucking clothes," He said, Kaminari and Kirishima in the back, completely ignoring the angry Bakugo. They'd become desensitized to it by now.

"I-We'll go! Sorry!" Midoriya said, getting up and scrambling out of the closet, his face red and head down, though he did stare at Kaminari out of the corner of his eye. Uraraka got up as well, ready to square off against Bakugo.

"You wouldn't risk your boyfriend's clothing," She said, assuming a fighting stance despite her cramped area,

"Time's up, Pink cheeks!" Bakugo grinned, his explosions only increasing in volume as he got ready to attack her.

"If either of you two damages my clothing I will shock you both into next week!" Kaminari protested, both of them halting.

"Fuck off, Sparky! I'll fucking throw down with you if you've got a problem with me!"

"Kaminari, thank you!" Uraraka slipped out of the closet and then the room, Kaminari waving her a goodbye.

"Katsu," Kaminari sighed, "C'mere," He smiled a bit, Kirishima chuckling slightly at how Bakugo actually obeyed, his explosions dying out the closer he got to his boyfriend. Kaminari kissed him lightly, grinning.

"I'm honored that you'd defend me from the embarrassment of someone going through my closet, Katsu, but it's fine. I'm not angr-" His eyes widened slightly, a thought coming to his mind and he scrambled to go over to his closet, Kirishima launching into how wonderful and manly Bakugo's actions had been.

"See, he fucking gets it, Denki!" Bakugo groaned, motioning to Kirishima, "What the fuck has you so antsy?!"

Kaminari saw the boxes and sighed, putting the smaller box back into its place.

"Just a couple box that I really didn't want them to find. Don't know if they opened both of them, but they're really embarrassing."

"Is it something I have to notify the class rep about?" Kirishima asked and Bakugo returned to growling and kicking his friend out of the room.

"Get lost!" He exclaimed, shutting the door behind him.

"Katsu, it's okay." Kaminari chuckled, taking the bigger box and walking over to his bed, "You can see what's in the box."

Kaminari opened the box, pulling out his favorite one of Bakugo's hoodies and holding it against his body.

"You. That's where my fucking hoodie went!" Bakugo growled, but he couldn't be truly mad when he saw Kaminari holding onto it. He especially couldn't be mad because he'd stolen a blanket from Kaminari, since it smelled like him and, despite being a throw blanket, it was warmer than any of his blankets.

"It smells like you, so I kinda. Snatched it? For nights when we don't share a room?"

"That's so damn creepy, Denki. I fucking love you." Bakugo leaned down to kiss his boyfriend, sitting down next to him, "By the way. Don't fucking lend your clothes out to the girls; I gave you the items from my dad's upcoming collection because you would look good in them." He grumbled, cheeks pink.

"Okay, Katsu. If they wanna borrow something else, though, I'm gonna let them." Kaminari smiled, lacing his fingers with Bakugo's and humming. "You know we're not gonna get much peace after they find out if all our classmates are like our friends."

"I don't think I could fucking handle that," Bakugo leaned back against the bed, glaring at the room, "Remind me why the fuck we decided to come out again?"

"Because you love me, and you were getting sick of seeing people flirt with me when we went out." Kaminari chuckled, his static-filled hair jumping with a surge of energy with his laughter.

"You're mine. I'm the only one with the right to fucking flirt with you, dumbass."

Harsh words with a soft voice, it was a wonderful mix which was wholeheartedly Bakugo and it caused Kaminari's heart to swell.

"I'm yours, for as long as you'll have me."

[i-am-very-very-tired]

With the impending release of his fifth studio album — the first since the four-time platinum, Grammy-nominated 2016 Views — Drake has many questions surrounding him. Can he again move a million units in a week? Can he prove all the doubters wrong after two years of ghostwriting allegations? Can he top “Hotline Bling” or “One Dance”? Can More Life overtake Take Care as Drake’s undoubted classic album?

EDITOR'S PICKS

The Best Drake Album That Never Existed

CulturePlay: Rick Ross

Nike hijab opens the door for female athletes of all faiths

‘Get Out’s’ Kaluuya responds to Samuel L. Jackson’s comments about black British actors

25 Books To Save Your Life Right Now

But also, can he, like so many artists in 2016 — Beyoncé (Lemonade), Solange (A Seat at the Table), Rihanna (Anti), Kanye West (The Life of Pablo), Young Thug (Jeffery) — take risks on his new album, exposing a deeper version of himself? Drake and his legion of fans — and his seemingly equal number of detractors — are waiting with bated breath for March 18 to see what the 6 God has been cooking up. But before we can call the new project “classic” or “trash,” before we spend the next few weeks debating the best and worst tracks, here’s the most important question that Drake has to answer: Can he stop attempting to control women?

Over the past eight years, Drake’s built up a reputation as being the compassionate and less threatening (read: soft) rapper who appears on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, cuddles up with professional athletes, and gets tattoos of Aaliyah. He’s played the role of Nice Guy by constantly smiling, and apparently wearing his heart on his sleeve. This appeals to the sensitivities of the women in his fan base. But, as is often the case with these so-called nice guys, Drake plays the charmer — he’ll call you beautiful, open doors for you and send you smiley-face emojis — but the minute he has sex with you, or you move on to someone else, he turns into Michael Ealy in The Perfect Guy.

Drake’s corniness, outward kindness and lack of sexual aggression has been misinterpreted as an overarching respect for women. He’s even been referred to as a feminist. But Drake is as much a feminist as Rachel Dolezal is a black woman. His entire catalog is steeped in respectability politics, accepting women so far as their body count goes.

Those songs pale in comparison to “Shot For Me,” “Marvin’s Room” and “Practice.” They are Drake at his worst.

While he’s constantly praised Nicki Minaj over the years, Drake belittled the Grammy-nominated artist during his beef with her former boyfriend, Meek Mill — Is that a world tour or your girl’s tour? — implying that it’s emasculating for a man to receive second billing to his significant other.

ADVERTISEMENT

As with stars of rock and country music, almost every successful rapper today, from Jay Z to Future to Chance the Rapper, has at some point performed lyrics that objectify or exploit women. J.Cole’s music has taken on more social justice elements over the years (Drake has spoken out for black causes as well). But Cole, in a 2013 song, called women “b—–s” —I got smart, I got rich, and I got b—–s still/And they all look like my eyebrows: thick as hell — and patriarchally dismisses female sexuality on 2014’s “No Role Modelz”:

My only regret was too young for Lisa Bonet, my only regret was too young for Nia Long/Now all I’m left with is hoes from reality shows, hand her a script the b—h probably couldn’t read along

Even so-called progressive rappers fall into this trap, namely the androgynous Young Thug and the genderfluid Young M.A.

Sometime between Drake’s early rise and his third mixtape being converted into 2009’s So Far Gone, the rapper known for singing about his romantic feelings and the pressure of newfound fame — with a flow that made every 16 bars sound like the hottest verse ever — became his own worst enemy. Drake, known for hits like 2009’s “Best I Ever Had” and 2010’s “Find Your Love,” became synonymous with quote-heavy memes on social media, and fake Twitter accounts such as @drakkardnoir pumped out fake deep quote after fake deep quote.

But the rapper’s verses about loving and being proud of college-educated, independent women — Sound so smart like you graduated college/Like you went to Yale but you probably went to Howard — paved the way for hypermasculine diatribes against the sexual agency of seemingly any woman he’s ever encountered. Through an examination of Drake’s four studio albums, plus mixtapes, collaborative projects and guest features, it is clear that the man who made music for folks who couldn’t get over their exes was himself struggling with the basic concept of “moving on.”

While So Far Gone doesn’t count as a studio album — it was his final mixtape before signing with Universal Republic — it gave listeners a sneak peek into the troublesome lyrics Drake would release in subsequent years. On the soothing track “Houstatlantavegas,” he raps about “saving” an exotic dancer from a strip club:

You go get f—– up and we just show up at your rescue/Carry you inside, get you some water and undress you.

I give you my all and the next morning you’ll forget who or why, or how, or when/Tonight is prolly ’bout to happen all over again.

Thank Me Later, Drake’s 2010 debut studio album, features the rapper slut-shaming women for having previous sexual partners. From “Karaoke” (I hope that you don’t get known for nothing crazy/Cause no man ever wants to hear those stories ’bout his lady) to “Miss Me” (Work somethin’, twerk something, basis/She just tryna make it so she’s right here getting naked. I don’t judge her, I don’t judge her/But I could never love her) to “Thank Me Now” (Alohas to women with no ties to men/That I know well, that way there are no lies), Drake positions women with previous sexual experience as undesirable. On the Rihanna-assisted “Take Care,” he seems to open up to the idea of women having sexual agency, relenting I’ve asked about you and they told me things/But my mind didn’t change and I still feel the same.

Thank Me Later was also at times a celebration of independent women – appreciating women’s “book smarts and street smarts” on “Shut it Down” and “Fancy” — but set the foundation for 2011’s Take Care, which was, at that point, the peak of Drake’s overt misogyny and objectification of women. On Take Care, which won Drake a Grammy for best rap album — he continues his focus on sex workers with “Lord Knows”:

To all these women that think like men with the same intentions

Talking strippers and models that try to gain attention.

Even a couple porn stars that I’m ashamed to mention.

“Under Ground Kings” (Sometimes I need that romance, sometimes I need that pole dance/Sometimes I need that stripper that’s gon’ tell me that she don’t dance) even creates a binary of acceptable and unacceptable behavior. While Drake has an infatuation with exotic dancers, he also makes it clear that admiration only goes as far as sex. “Trust Issues,” which Drake said he made for “fun” and thus didn’t include on the album, has Drake playing into the thoroughly debunked myth that women can’t want sex as much as men, rapping And it’s probably why I’m scared to put the time in/Women want to f— like they’re me and I’m them.

Those songs, though, pale in comparison to “Shot For Me,” “Marvin’s Room” and “Practice.” They are Drake at his worst, going beyond the behaviors of the paternalistic and disapproving ex. He goes from telling a woman she’s drinking away the pain she feels due to leaving him on “Shot For Me” — Yeah, I’m the reason why you always getting faded — to cursing out another for finding happiness with a new lover on “Marvin’s Room” (F— that n—-a that you love so bad).

Despite admitting that he’s a flawed individual in the latter song, in the former he tells the woman that he “made” her and calls her a “b—-.” This then leads to Drake’s most confusing and disturbing song to date, “Practice.” While acknowledging that women can have sex — the song is about a woman having multiple partners — Drake then spins it to his advantage: All those other men were practice, they were practice/Yeah, for me, for me, for me, for me. He senses “pain and regret” in the woman from her past, and then reluctantly accepts the fact that she has casual sex. He tops the song off with an uncomfortable, familial request: You can even call me daddy, give you someone to look up to.

But, Drake can still change. His lyrics paint the picture of a man who is constantly questioning himself.

It’s 2016’s “Hotline Bling” that ignited the re-examination of Drake’s entire catalog. The song is the rapper’s second-best-selling single of all time (behind fellow Views track “One Dance”), and won him two Grammys at last month’s award show. Not to mention, the visuals for the song will go down in music history as one of the most memorable music videos of all time.

But while the chorus is equal parts infectious and mesmerizing, Drake sneaks in two verses and a bridge full of “reductive stereotypes” and body-policing lyrics about an old fling. Whether about said woman “wearing less and goin’ out more” or “going places where you don’t belong,” Drake makes it apparent that he’s offended that she has the audacity to move on with her life. By the end of the song, Drake’s become so desperate that he’s even concerned that the woman is “bendin’ over backwards for someone else.” Textbook narcissism.

His guest appearances have been a mixed bag as well. On rapper The Game’s 2011 track “Good Girls Go Bad,” Drake raps Who’s still getting tested?/Where’s all the women that still remember who they slept with? and a year later added to 2 Chainz’s “No Lie”:

She could have a Grammy, I still treat her a– like a nominee

Just need to know what that p—- like

So one time is fine with me.

Over the past couple of years, Drake has put out two mixtapes, a solo effort If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, and What A Time To Be Alive with Future. His male chauvinism can be found on tracks “Legend,” “Energy” and “Madonna” and repeatedly calls a woman “ungrateful” for living her life without him on “Diamonds Dancing.” As writer Tahirah Hairston pointed out, Drake has also had questionable lyrics on “Wu-Tang Forever,” “Own It,” “Furthest Thing,” “I’m The Plug” and even notable feminist Beyoncé’s “Mine.”

Back in October, Drake released three tracks from his upcoming More Life album — “Fake Love,” “Sneakin’,” and “Two Birds, One Stone.” Looking solely at those tracks, it appears Drake has let up a little on his control, instead rapping about success, fake friends and his long list of haters. Even his appearance on labelmate Nicki Minaj’s diss to Remy Ma, “No Frauds,” he steers clear of trying to preserve women’s sanctity.

For nearly a decade now, Drake has wrapped up his alarming lyrics inside catchy, Instagram-caption-worthy choruses and tunes. The “light-skinned Keith Sweat” gets away with this because he carefully crafted a “nice guy” persona that deflects the criticism that, say, a 21 Savage, Kodak Black or the Migos would receive.

For many men, Drake’s attitudes reflect their own attitudes and desires, which in turn reflect a patriarchal society that views women as sexual objects meant to be gazed at. For women, they’ve had to deal with sexism in the arts since the beginning of time, so choosing to not enjoy an artist because of his views on sexuality would mean giving up on music all together. And at the end of the day, Drake is just that good at his job, unquestionably the most influential and popular musician in the business right now.

But Drake can still change. His lyrics paint the picture of a man who is constantly questioning himself, consistently trying to become a better person, whatever that entails. From So Far Gone to More Life — age 22 to 30 — he’s learned all the lessons life can teach, from whom to trust to what forms of happiness money and fame can buy. But it seems he’s yet to learn that women aren’t sexual objects. They’re human beings. If the only women of the world were all exactly like the women he seems to respect — his mother or Rihanna or Aaliyah or Serena Williams — we’d call him Aubrey the Riveter. But, they aren’t the only women who deserve his respect.

He knows that. But it begs the question: Does he care?

Martenzie is a writer for The Undefeated. His favorite cinematic moment is when Django said "Y'all want to see somethin?"

[welllpthisishappening]

It’s the Thought That Counts (1/3)

It was, in theory, a good idea. It was, in theory, an absolutely fantastic idea. Because there was still, sometimes, a crisis or two in Storybrooke and nothing would be more chaotic than trying to find a Christmas present on Main Street, while also trying to keep said Christmas present a secret. Ordering gifts on the internet makes sense. It's just a few clicks and online sales and the presents will be there in plenty of time for Christmas to be perfect.

Emma and Killian are positive.

Except then the presents don't show up and it's Christmas Eve and plan B isn't so much a plan as it is just a bit of pre-holiday desperation and the entire town knows what they're up to.

Rating: Mature’ish. Eventually. As it is, Killian uses some vaguely pirate-type curses in this chapter. Word Count: 8K’ish. Ha. Words. AN: Heyoooooo internet, here are some more words! This is my CSSS gift to @theonceoverthinker who is an absolute delight and deserves all the festive words. I’m not much of a canon writer, but I found a prompt about ordering presents online and not getting them in time and something in my brain was like, yes, ok, do that thing. Here is that thing. Also. Shoutout to @distant-rose for letting me plot in her ear. Because of who I am as a person there are two more chapters that will post in the next two days. Happy holidays, internet!! Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll. 

He can’t seem to stop swearing.

Henry can’t seem to stop laughing.

He should probably stop swearing so Henry will stop laughing and then...maybe help him figure what the bloody hell to do next.

“We shouldn’t have trusted that...that...thing,” Killian says, pointing distractedly towards the computer in the corner of the room and Henry snickers, eyes barely moving away from the phone in his hand. “I knew it wasn’t going to work.” “The internet or the postal service?” Henry asks. Killian does his best not to actually groan and slam his hook into the computer. “Because I really don’t think this had much to do with the internet. Your orders went through. They’re just not going to…” “Be here on time,” he finishes and Henry shrugs. “What did the message say again?”

Henry finally pulls his gaze away from the screen in front of him, something that feels a bit like placating practically rolling off him and Killian still wants to hit something.

There isn’t a Christmas equivalent in the Enchanted Forest, per se, but he understands the basic idea of something vaguely festive and the thought of being able to buy gifts for Emma and Henry, even under the guise of holiday requirements, left him feeling excited and hopeful and determined to do all of this right.

And after everything – curses and Dark Ones and altered memories and timelines and death and, well, everything – a few days of uninterrupted peace with Emma smiling at him the same way she had when she’d explained Christmas was, suddenly, the single most appealing thought in the entire world.

Plus several other realms.

So, perhaps, he’s gone a little overboard. Perhaps he’d asked Henry for help and Henry’s first suggestion was to order it all online because then it’ll be a surprise and, well, that made sense too. The last thing Killian needed was every single purchase announced in the middle of Main Street like a brand-new bit of magic set to descend on the town.

It didn’t take long – clicking on links and sites and he’d gotten fairly good at research over the last several crises, so finding the perfect gift was an undertaking Killian was more than willing to shoulder, particularly when Henry informed him that everything would just be delivered to their front door.

“It’s honestly a little like magic,” Henry promised a few weeks before, slinging his legs over the side of the couch with the laptop balanced on his knees. Killian twisted his hand, eyes wide and the unspoken command to sit up practically hanging in the air between them.

Henry rolled his eyes.

And moved his legs.

“You can’t possibly be comfortable like that,” Killian said, dropping onto the far corner when Henry put the laptop on the coffee table in front of them.

“That’s not the point of this conversation.” “And what is the point of this conversation?” “Getting Mom a good gift, obviously,” Henry sighed as if it were the clearest thing in the world. It was. “This is...well it’s important. And Mom said since people could cross the town line without, you know…” “Forgetting themselves completely?” Henry scowled at him and, that time, it was Killian who shrugged. “Yeah,” Henry muttered. “That. Well, you can order stuff online and someone will show up with the packages and then you can totally get a ton of bonus points with Mom.”

“I’m not sure I’m in need of any bonus points.” “Ew. I’m just saying. You order a bunch of stuff online and then you don’t have to worry about Leroy or Archie spilling your gift-giving secrets the first second they see Mom. Plus, you know, more variety.” Killian quirked an eyebrow, gaze darting from the slightly over-enthusiastic teenager next to him to the images on the screen – a site that promised New and Interesting Finds and 12 Days of Deals, whatever that meant.

Henry didn’t seem troubled by any of it, tapping on keys and shouting out ideas and, a few hours later, Killian was buying things and agreeing to plans and getting order confirmations that promised his packages would be delivered by December 23rd at the latest.

Only now, it’s December 24th and there are no packages sitting at the front door and he's inching closer and closer to discouraged with every passing moment.

“It still says what it did before,” Henry grumbles, sinking onto the arm of the couch and at least he’s not draped over it like usual. It’s, Killian has found, a strange habit both he and Emma share – twisting their body parts over furniture in a way that certainly can’t be comfortable or beneficial for any of their muscles. Neither one of them ever seem to mind.

“That, and I’m quoting here, due to unforeseen circumstances at the distribution center, there is a delay on all arrivals and that you should anticipate your orders on…..” Henry clicks his tongue, making a face and squeezing one eye shut. “December 29th. At the latest.”

Killian heaves another sigh, head thrown back in frustration and Henry makes a sympathetic noise because December 29th is not Christmas and this Christmas is supposed to be something special and now they’ve all been outsmarted by magic.

It’s incredibly frustrating.

“I mean, you know, at least they’ve given you a new date,” Henry reasons, tilting his head and doing his best to smile. It’s an almost movement-for-movement replication of the way Emma looks when she tries to reason her way out of anything.

“Several days after Christmas,” Killian points out. “You know your gifts were part of that order as well.” Henry nods despondently. “Yeah, I know, but, well…” He trails off and, finally, flops back onto the couch, knocking over several different and incredibly patterned pillows at the same time he tugs on the blanket draped over the back. Killian immediately regrets every single sigh he’s made, or thought about making, in the last ten minutes and they’re going to fix this.

He’s battled monsters and magic and krakens and can pick out constellations in more than half a dozen different realms. Surely he can conquer Christmas presents.

Even if that requires him to bribe all seven dwarves into silence.

On pain of death. Or hook.

He’s still not convinced he won’t destroy the computer with his hook.

Killian takes a step forward, balancing on the edge of the coffee table and Henry eyes him like he’s just broken every single rule in the house. No one is supposed to sit on the coffee table. It’s an antique.

“This is not your fault, lad,” he says, tugging the phone away from Henry and tossing it without much thought into one of the other chairs.

Henry growls. It’s becoming a more and more frequent noise. “Yeah, I know,” he mutters. “But…” “But?” “You weren’t the only one who ordered things online.” Killian feels his eyes widen slightly and it’s probably not the best response because Henry immediately makes another noise, mumbling a string of curses under his breath that are almost verbatim to what he said earlier. He’s fairly certain Henry wouldn’t know where to send a particularly troublesome sea monster otherwise.

“That so?” Killian asks, smirking out of instinct and interest and Violet was at the house two days before. Both she and Henry leapt several feet in the air when Killian and Emma came home from patrol, laden down with grocery bags and he’d never seen the poor lass move quicker than she did while attempting to leave.

Henry’s face may still be slightly flushed.

“Can that table hold you?” Henry counters speculatively and Killian’s eyebrows shift again.  

“The table is perfectly fine. The same may not be true, however, for the entire Christmas event if we don’t do something about the gift situation.” Henry’s lips twitch like he’s trying to bite back a smile and his hair falls towards his eyes when he flips his head to stare at Killian. “You don’t have to call it the entire Christmas event every time you mention it,” he says, but there’s a note of excitement just on the edge of his voice that brings back memories of picking a house and, eventually, filling a house with antique furniture that they aren’t supposed to sit on. “You can just call it Christmas.” “Noted,” Killian grins. “Now what do you say to a gifting operation?” “It needs a good name.” “Of course it does. That’s up to you though.” “Why? My first plan went to crap.” Killian narrows his eyes and he’s still not sure if he’s got a very firm grasp on discipline , but Henry seems to sag a bit further into the couch cushions and maybe neither one of them will send particularly troublesome sea monsters anywhere for the rest of Christmas.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Henry mutters. “I know. And don’t you have to work? Mom said something about some report of a weird snowstorm just….like in the middle of the woods.” “We’re fairly certain that was all speculative. And possibly some drunken story passed around the Rabbit Hole a few days ago because every time we’ve heard about it, it changed. And snow is rather common this time of year, isn’t it?” Henry shrugs, an impressive feat considering the twisted way he’s still lying on the couch. “I’m just saying. If you blow off work, Mom’s going to know something’s up.” “No one is blowing anything off. We’ll come up with an excuse.” “A lie? On Christmas?” “It is not a lie,” Killian argues, but the words already feel heavy on his tongue and Henry’s getting very good at lifting one eyebrow. It does something ridiculous to his stomach. “It is...a calculated move.” “Against who, exactly?” “Christmas.” “You’re making moves against Christmas?”

Killian tries not to sigh again, but it probably wouldn’t matter because Henry is already hysterical, whole body shaking with laughter and eyes closed tightly and they’re wasting valuable shopping time. “We,” Killian corrects pointedly. “Are going to purchase things because this realm can’t seem to get its dates correct or a workforce that values timeliness.” Henry will probably never stop laughing.

“You’re a pirate,” he chuckles. “You’re not supposed to be advocating for a productive workforce.”

“Do you think a ship will simply sail itself if the crew isn’t willing to work? Or if one of the crewmembers skirts his duties? That’s how ships sink, lad.” “Alright, well, this took a decidedly not-Christmas turn.” “Then it seems like it’s time for you to come up with an operation name, don’t you think? And find my phone so I can call your mother.” Henry’s shoulders shake again, but he swings his legs back on the ground and grins at Killian with a look that’s both conspiratorial and something that feels a bit like allegiance. They are, it seems, ready to make a bold move against Christmas.

“Operation: Wrapping Paper,” Henry intones and he’s clearly done it for the reaction because the grin that breaks out on his face when Killian tilts his head in confusion is far too big to be anything but planned.

“You’re going to have to explain that one, lad,” Killian says, standing up and he can almost make out his phone ringing somewhere. It’s probably in the kitchen.

Henry’s grin gets wider. “Your phone’s definitely not in the kitchen. That’s coming from upstairs.”

Bedroom it is then. “And,” he adds. “That is a crazy loud volume. You should probably fix that. Did you not get wrapping paper yet, though? For real?” “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re telling me,” Killian mutters, taking the stairs two at a time and his phone is sitting in the middle of the bed when he all but sprints into the room.

It’s stopped ringing.

It’s dinging instead.

“Bloody fu…” he hisses, grabbing the stupid thing off the blanket and he’s got two missed calls from Snow and one from Emma and, it appears, they’re working together because the phone starts ringing in his hand.

He doesn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before there’s a slightly frantic voice in his ear.

“Killian?” Emma asks and his eyes widen immediately, defense rising and he’s already half a step closer to the door than he was a moment before. “Where are you?” “Home, Swan and uh…” “Oh, ok, good.” “Is something wrong, love?”

She makes a dismissive noise on the other end and he’s fairly certain he can hear Snow muttering something, but it all sounds a bit jumbled and some of that noise might just be Emma pacing in the sheriff's office.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” she says quickly. “Totally fine.” “You’re a rather terrible liar, you know that? Did something happen with this snowstorm?”

He can almost see her shaking her head, the sound of her hair brushing against the screen making it nearly impossible to hear her footsteps. There’s a third voice in the sheriff’s station. It’s, absolutely, David.

“Swan,” Killian starts and she must nearly jump to attention on the other side of town because he hears her curse softly when she slams into, what sounds like, her desk. “You’ve got to tell me what’s going on because I’m thinking I may just stay home if there isn’t anything else…” He can’t finish the sentence and he has no idea what he’s going to say because he doesn’t really want to lie to Emma, on Christmas or any other day, but she’s so clearly distracted he’s already got half a mind to walk to work.

He doesn’t get a chance to move.

Emma’s already shouting things again.

“Yes,” she yells and it sounds like David has started laughing, ignoring his daughter’s not-so-quiet reprimands. “Yes! You should absolutely, definitely stay home.” Killian makes a face at the open air in front of him, not sure why he feels the warning bells in the back of his head, but Emma’s voice is just a bit too enthusiastic. It sounds suspiciously like Henry’s when he promised he and Violet were just hanging out alone on the couch.

Emma inhales sharply when she realizes what she’s said and he can picture her, right there in front of him, eyebrows pinched and lower lip tugged tightly between her teeth and David is certainly related to Henry because he can’t seem to stop laughing either.

“Wait,” she says suddenly. “Why do you want to stay home? Are you ok?” “You called me, Swan,” Killian counters. “And told me I should be staying home.” “Yeah.” “Yeah? No explanation? Just...yeah?” “Uh….” she stammers. “Yes?” He barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, something flashing through his whole body that feels a lot like love , but might just be whatever festive spirit both Emma and Henry claim exists in this realm. “That’s not much of a change, darling,” Killian says and Emma sighs, the sounds of her decidedly squeaky desk chair working through the phone. “And you need a new chair.” “We need a new everything in this office, we’ve been over that eight-hundred times.” “True,” he agrees. “That’s still not an explanation though. Why do you want me to stay home?” “Why do you want to be staying home?”

They have, apparently, reached some kind of not-quite-lie, hopefully Christmas-type stalemate. This holiday is far more trouble than he anticipated. “Killian,” Emma prompts and he needs to say something because he can still hear Snow talking and David mumbling something about tomorrow night and  gifts and this is supposed to be important.

“It’s nothing,” he says, but it sounds as obvious as anything and she tuts quietly when he doesn’t immediately continue. “Just feeling a little under the weather and I don’t want to miss any of your parent’s plans tomorrow.”

It’s, naturally, not the worst lie he’s ever told.

He’s told more lies than he can even begin to fathom and this is far from the most devious.

It’s not even a particularly well-executed lie – there’s stumbling and elongated pauses and Henry’s arrived in the hallway with a knowing smile on his face and his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

It’s also quite obvious that it is, in fact, a lie.

Emma doesn’t even try to hide her scoff and Killian can feel the blush rising in his neck, the desire to tug on the hair behind his ear somewhere close to overwhelming. “That was almost painfully bad,” she mutters, but there’s still a note of amusement in her voice and a distinct lack of the overwhelmed it held just a few moments before.

“She totally figured you out, huh?” Henry asks. His attempts at whispering the question come up woefully short.

Killian shakes his head. “If you don’t need me in the station or questioning dwarves about weather patterns than I’m happy to stay home for the day, love,” he continues. “Although I think we both need to work on our excuses.” “It’s not an excuse,” Emma says. “It’s...whatever. There are no weather issues because that snowstorm thing was a total lie and Dad went to go check it out already anyway. So there’s...you know...not a ton going on here.” “Of course.” “You are infuriating when you’re all-knowing.” “I’m not anything, Swan. Except possibly learning what something called wrapping paper is.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Henry mumbles and Killian flashes him a warning look and he’s going to have bribe every single person in town so no one else learns about the present debacle.

Emma laughs, free and easy and they need to go buy things. Hours ago. “Wrapping paper, huh?” she asks and her grin is obvious even without her in front of him. “Interesting. Any particularly good patterns on this wrapping paper?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, we haven’t gotten that far in the instructional period, huh?”

“Not as such, no,” Killian answers, taking a step out of the room and pushing lightly on Henry’s shoulders until they’re both moving back down the hallway. “But I’m sure we’ll get to that part of the rules eventually.” She’s quiet for a moment and Killian freezes, halfway between tugging on one boot and hoping his keys are still in his jacket pocket. “What?” he asks.

“I just...I mean there aren’t rules to this, you know. It’s not like I’m…” Killian waits for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn't come and his legs are starting to ache from crouching. “Swan?”

“I mean presents are good, but you know we didn’t really talk about gifts and you don’t have to…” “I want to,” Killian corrects. She probably scrunches her nose. She absolutely scrunches her nose. Henry makes some kind of vaguely insulted face.

It’s silent for another moment, save for the very squeaky, absolutely torturous chair behind Emma’s desk. He refuses to sit in it.

He can hear her sigh softly, but it doesn’t sound disappointed, it sounds a bit surprised and, perhaps, just a little hopeful and it makes his chest ache because they’ve waited for this and wanted this and there need to be presents.

He’s going to buy her a present come hell or high water.

And he’s already been to hell.

This, by comparison, should be relatively easy.

“See, saying things like that out loud is just absolutely unfair,” Emma says. Killian’s heel pops into his boot. “What am I supposed to think about for the rest of the day?” He grins. Henry gags. “Hopefully that,” Killian admits. And that time David might gag. Maybe Henry should just go shopping with David.

“Ah, that was even worse.” “You’re telling me these things like they’re an insult, Swan. I’m failing to see that point of view at all. It all seems almost romantic.” “Almost,” she echoes and his keys are still in his pocket. Henry is practically sprinting out the door. “You really don’t have to come in today. We’ve got everything taken care of and I’m just going to get caught up on some paperwork while things are still quiet.” “You’ve told me several times I don’t have to come in today, love, I understand.”

He doesn’t move – dimly aware that the wind will pick up on his phone and he’s already told enough Christmas lies for one day – and Emma hums distractedly at the explanation. “Right, right,” she says. “And, you know, paperwork. Lots of it.” Killian doesn’t have any magic, at least not anymore, but actual centuries spent on the Jolly Roger left him with a fairly strong sense of reading people , particularly insubordinate crewmembers with visions of mutiny and control and while he might not consider himself Captain Hook anymore, he hasn't completely lost the talent.

And Emma Swan, savior and princess and the love his very long life, isn’t planning a mutiny is, but she is, quite clearly, up to something.

He’d finished all the paperwork two days before.

“Right,” Killian agrees, curiosity lingering in the back corner of his mind even when he knew he didn’t have time for an interrogation over the phone. “Paperwork.”

Emma makes another noise and he can hear it for the dismissal it absolutely is. “Exactly,” she says, snapping her jaw on the word. “So, uh….I’m going to go do that and you’re going to stay home and probably read, like, twenty books.” “Seems rather ambitious, don’t you think, love?” “The paperwork or the books?” “Either or.” She laughs softly before the chair squeaks again and she’s standing, the sound of her boots echoing off the walls of the otherwise uneventful office. “I’ll see you later,” Emma says. “For movies and hot chocolate.” “I look forward to it, Swan.” “Yeah, me too. I love you.”

He’s lost track of the number of times she’s said it now – the words that were, at one point, some kind of insurmountable challenge now seem to just roll out of her as easy as breathing and just as important – but the sentence never fails to make his heart stutter and his breath catch and Killian swallows before he responds.

“I love you too,” he says and it feels bigger than that because there are traditions to be started and presents to be bought and it’s going to be easy to find exactly what she deserves.

It is, Killian is loathe to find out, not easy to find...anything in the middle of Storybrooke with only a few hours before Christmas.

It is, he’s discovering, close to impossible.

And it is, possibly, because he’s so goddamn picky.

At least that’s what Henry tells him when they leave the one clothing story Storybrooke has to offer with nothing in hand and no idea where to go next.

“You’re really horrible at this, you know that?” Henry asks, all judgement and little suggestion just a few steps removed from the store windows that are decorated with something, apparently, called garland. “That one jacket wasn’t that bad.” Killian runs his hand through his hair, frustration sinking into every inch of him and they’re running out of places to go. The one store that particularly cheerful dwarf runs filled with knick-knacks and, what Henry referred to as tourist stuff, was a waste of nearly forty-five minutes and the idea of recreating his first date with Emma seemed to personally offend his stepson and, now, the clothing store was also a failure, with apparel that didn’t just seem impractical for this realm, it felt far too similar to what was going to land on their doorstep on December 29th.

Hopefully.

If whatever magic that made sure the packages got where there were supposed to go decided to do its job.

“That one jacket wouldn’t have lasted a single crisis here,” Killian argues. “The stitching was coming undone right in front of us. I’m surprised it didn’t simply fall apart in my hand.” Henry raises his eyebrows at him, what looks like several dozen questions waiting to be asked at the same time sitting on the tip of his tongue. Killian waits. And he’s not disappointed. “How do you know that?” Henry asks, voice picking up and he barely gets one word out before he starts on the next one. “Did you...do you know people who made clothes? Like the shoemaker?” Killian narrows his eyes and Henry makes a slightly disappointed noise. “You know with the elves,” he says as if that’s a clue.

“I’ve never encountered a single elf,” Killian says. “Although there were rumors about a land outside of the Enchanted Forest where the elves there made impenetrable armor. That always seemed rather appealing.” “Did you ever go there?” Henry’s eyes widen to an almost comical size and Killian flashes him a grin, never one to turn down a captivated audience.

“I’m not sure there was much truth to it, my boy. Just an old story to keep sailors occupied at night. After all, there’s something to be said for pillaging when you can’t be injured.” Henry nods quickly, eyes still wide and Killian rests his hand on his shoulder. “You know, elves are a pretty big part of Christmas too.” “That so?” “Yeah, I mean, they’re not making armor for pirates, but they help make the toys. Or at least that’s what parents tell their kids when they’re younger.” Killian tilts his head and there is, apparently, far more to this Christmas event than he originally realized. “Ah, we didn’t get to Miracle on 34th Street yet, did we? Well, when we’re little, parents here tell their kids that if they’re good then Santa will bring them presents.” “And Santa is...also an elf?” “No, no, no, he’s some guy.” “Some guy?” Killian repeats skeptically and the storytelling tables seem to have turned rather abruptly. Henry shrugs, as if that’s an appropriate answer. “So what you’re telling me is that fabrications are part of Christmas?” “What?”

“Parents are lying to their children to get them to behave. This Santa fellow, he doesn’t really exist does he?” “At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if he did in some other realm, honestly,” Henry admits, shrugging again and Killian is momentarily worried about the state of his neck before his eyes catch sight of something yellow and a flash of red and he swears he can hear her boots crunching on the snow.

“Bloody hell,” Killian growls, moving his hand away from Henry’s shoulder to tug on his wrist and he’s dimly aware of a disgruntled jeez, Killian you’re going to dislocate my arm before they’re moving into the alley behind the store.

They’re a mess of stumbling feet and twisted up limbs and he tries to keep his left arm pinned to his side in an attempt to avoid some other catastrophe. Henry gapes at him like he’s lost his mind, mouth open and questions threatening, but he snaps his jaw shut when he hears the voices moving across the street – directly onto the sidewalk they were just standing on.

“I’m just saying,” Snow says and it doesn’t sound like it’s the first time she’s tried to make her point. Emma’s breathing gets a little louder, footsteps falling with a bit more determination as if she’s trying to work out some residual energy and Killian bites back a smile.

Paperwork. Of course.

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying,” Emma argues. Henry slams his hand over his mouth so he doesn’t start laughing. “Mom, this needs to be good. It can’t just be…”

She stops talking and, by the sound of it, stops walking and Snow mutters something that sounds like a question. “Those are recent,” Snow says. “And moving back into the alley. Why would anyone be going back there?”

Killian rolls his eyes skyward, trying to keep his breathing as quiet as possible and his frustration as low as possible, but both seem decidedly impossible because, apparently, Christmas Eve exists only to test his patience.

He widens his eyes towards Henry when he feels an elbow in his side and they both try to occupy the same four feet of slightly shadowed space.

“Do you think they know it’s us?” Henry whispers and he shakes his head, determined to will it into being because he absolutely wants to believe it.

Emma clicks her tongue a few feet away. “Yeah,” she mutters. “Why would anyone want to be in this alley? You think there’s a door to the store back there?” Snow doesn’t answer and Killian barely hears Henry’s frantic oh shit before he’s the one being pulled further down the alley, Emma’s footsteps echoing in his ears because, of course, she’s come to investigate.

She probably went to double check on the weather reports in the woods herself.

Killian makes a mental note to discuss that with David at some point tomorrow.

They barely make it around the corner – and Killian only has half a chance to thank several deities that this alley connected to something – when some other voice calls for Emma and she mumbles what sounds like several increasingly creative curses under her breath before marching away.

“Do not repeat those,” Killian mumbles, glancing meaningfully at Henry whose shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.

“That’s exactly what you were saying this morning,” Henry contends. “Mom learned that one about King Triton from you. That’s something she just knew.” “Even so.” Henry smiles. “So...uh, you guys are just both great, big liars, huh? Mom out with Grandma and thinking people are trying to break into Modern Fashions.”

“That just means we need to be better at covering our tracks. Quite literally.” “And you want to go bribe that cashier some more to make sure that he doesn’t tell Mom it was us out here, right?”

Killian nods deftly and Henry might mutter I knew it when they duck around another corner and back in front of the store – only to find Emma and Snow already inside. “Gods,” he sighs, dimly aware of how much he’s tugging on his hair when his scalp starts to ache.

“I don’t know that he’s going to be silenced with a few doubloons,” Henry says.

“I’m not actually carrying any doubloons right now.” “Well then that guy is totally going to tell Mom and Grandma we were in there like...five minutes ago.”

Killian hums, that frustration he was trying so desperately to avoid feeling as if it’s actually slinking down his spine. “What do you say to some fries? And possibly pie?”

“Fries and pie?” “Fries and pie.” “Milkshakes?” “Fries and pie.”

Henry deflates slightly, but Emma and Snow are walking back towards the door and they don’t really have much of a choice except sprinting back across the street and skidding into Granny’s with enough force that they nearly take out a waitress.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Granny shouts, hands on his and eyebrows pulled low and Henry, immediately, blushes. “You’re going to pull my door off its hinges.” “Sorry, Granny,” Henry mutters, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the linoleum floor at the same time Killian tilts his head and says “Apologies, ma’am.”

Granny’s eyes flit across them, like she’s taking stock or inventory or, just possibly, reading their minds. It’s most likely the last one. “Fries or pie?” she asks, moving her hands away from her hips to cross her arms over her chests.

“We were thinking both,” Killian answers. Granny’s eyebrows shoot into her hairline and one side of her mouth twitches slightly.

“Ah,” she says as if everything about this incredibly hectic holiday suddenly makes sense. “So the rumors were true then.” Henry groans, taking a step towards the counter and sinking onto one of the open stools. He spins on the spot. Killian tries not to actually rip his hair out.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, ma’am,” he says instead, taking up residence on his own stool and grabbing a menu like it’s changed since the first time he stepped into the restaurant. “We’re simply looking for some fries and pie. Whatever most recently came out of the oven.” Granny’s mouth moves again. “Yuh huh.”

“You’re out of ketchup,” Killian says, tapping one finger on the empty glass bottle in front of him.

“Yuh huh.” Henry stops spinning, resting both elbows on the counter and his chin on his hands. “Did somebody rat us out, Granny?” “Depends on what you two are trying to hide, I suppose.”

“Somebody totally ratted us out. Was it Happy?” He glances towards Killian and the stool squeaks nearly as much as Emma’s office chair. “I told you we should have offered to buy all the dwarves drinks for the rest of the week.”

Granny throws her whole head back when she laughs, drawing a few suspicious stare and Killian does his best to melt into the ground. “Are your bribing the people of Storybrooke, Captain? In pursuit of gifts?” “Bribe is a very strong word,” Killian says and Granny’s laugh, somehow, gets even louder. “Suggested at most.”

“Naturally. While brandishing that hook of yours?”

“There were no threats involved.” “Only because we haven’t seen Leroy yet,” Henry adds. Granny smiles, placing two steaming mugs in front of both of them and maybe she’s the one with lingering magic because Killian hadn’t even noticed her move. “But it’s still fairly early.” “Your certainty that this isn’t going to work is disheartening, lad,” Killian says. “And if we’re all going to be so honest, it should be acknowledged that you haven’t found anything to gift either.”

He glances meaningfully at Granny, her lips pressed together tightly and tilted down slightly and they’re probably not ever going to get any pie. “We both agreed we didn’t want to buy that touristy stuff,” Henry mutters, hissing when he takes a gulp of whatever the scalding liquid in the cup is. Probably hot chocolate.

“Where else have you two been today?” Granny asks. “The last I heard you were trying to get Bella Note to open up on Christmas Day.” Killian rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I was trying to do at all.” “Seems like cheating to just repeat the one date you have been on, don’t you think, Captain?”

Henry snorts into his hot chocolate.

“It is not cheating,” Killian says, but it might have been and that coat that was supposed to show up on their doorstep was perfect. It was warm and red and, admittedly too expensive, Henry’s certainty that Mom’s going to freak when she sees how much that cost ringing in his ears, but it was exactly what Emma needed and she was never going to get it for herself.

Her current coat was in worse distress than the one in that shop.

“And all of these ideas were mostly born out of something a bit closer to…” “Lack of present panic?” Granny asks archly, tugging the menu out of his hand.

“Something like that.”

“The cherry pie came out of the oven not even twenty minutes before both of you barreled in here. It may still be warm.”

“And fries too?” Henry asks. His mug is empty.

Granny reaches out, patting his cheek. He doesn’t try to pull away. “Fries too,” she promises. “And you may want to think a less outside the box on this one, Captain. You’ve missed some very important courting lessons in this realm.” He knows his eyes do something and it’s probably a bit closer to impolite than it should be, considering the woman in front of him is, presumably, going to get them pie and fries and, hopefully, keep their shopping secret.

They stare at each other for a breath before Henry makes some kind of noise that more resembles the sea monsters their entire family was determined to curse earlier in the day. “Jewelry,” he groans. “She’s talking about jewelry. God, how did we not think of that? It’s almost too in character.”

“I’m not quite in the habit of buying jewels,” Killian says, flashing a smile and a quick eyebrow shift towards Granny when she scoffs. “Seems like cheating don’t you think, ma’am?”

She leans forward and for half a moment he thinks she’s going to refill his now-cold mug of hot chocolate. She doesn’t. She flicks her fingers against his shoulder.

“Not when you’re discussing Christmas presents for your wife, pirate,” Granny says. “And, most importantly, not when you’re distinctly lacking on the present front. You are, after all, under a bit of a time crunch.” “It’s not a bad idea,” Henry shrugs. “I mean...maybe a little rom-com, but you know…” Killian narrows his eyes. “Rom-com.” “When Harry Met Sally, all those Reese Witherspoon movies Mom likes but won’t admit to, anything Grandma would watch ever.” “Ah.” “The sparklier the better, Captain,” Granny says, now with two plates in her hand and she must know how to teleport. There’s usually smoke involved. Killian is not surprised that she, apparently, doesn’t need it. “We’re back to that then?” She shrugs and a waitress puts down a third plate, fries sitting in a small pool of grease that seems to thrill Henry more than anything else that’s happened throughout the day. “Looks like you’re already wooing with even the thought of jewelry. You do have good taste. Emma’s ring was the talk of the town for weeks. Even after…” Granny cuts herself off and Killian digs his fork into the slice of pie in front of him. This needed to be perfect. “The sparklier the better, you say?” he asks and Granny’s shoulders shift when she takes a deep breath.

She puts a new bottle of ketchup on the counter. “Exactly.”

They eat all of the pie and all of the fries and he’s as far away from the threatening pirate he once was because he agrees to the milkshake when Henry promises he’ll still eat dinner later. Of course he will. He’ll probably eat Emma and Killian out of the house by the New Year.

And the jewelry store at the other end of Main Street is the only option they have left.

It’s nearly going somewhere according to plan when Granny promises it’s on the house today and squeezes Henry’s shoulder and they don’t run over any other waitresses when they open the door.

They nearly run over Emma and Snow instead.

“Swan?” “Killian?” “Mom?” “Henry?” “Hey,” Snow says, waving one hand awkwardly on the step and they’re blocking the entire walkway. She’s nearly drooping under the weight of the bags she’s holding. “Happy Christmas Eve!”

Henry laughs softly, pushing around Killian to walk towards Snow, nodding towards the assortment of bags in her hands. “What are you guys doing here?” “We thought we’d get some food.” “In between stacks of paperwork?” Killian asks, eyes flitting from the bags back up towards Emma. She presses her lips together. “Is that right, Swan?”

She won’t meet his gaze, staring a hole into the tiny bit of stair that’s left with all of them still standing there. “We’re taking a break,” she says and she’s in desperate need of a new coat. “And I’m starving. And Mom was...you know, boosting the town’s entire economy in one day. It’s...we did not plan this.”

“Naturally.” “Did you guys eat?” “Pie and fries,” Henry answers immediately. Emma’s head snaps up.

“Pies and fries?” she asks. “Did you unearth some kind of world-ending evil or something?”

Killian moves before he considers it, but she’s standing there and shivering slightly and that coat really is horrendous, so his arm moves out of instinct or possibly want and he tugs Emma against his side. She rests her head on his shoulder. “I promise it’s not that serious, love,” he says, but she glances up at him in disbelief. “It’s not.” “We were just hungry,” Henry continues. “And there was new pie. Or fresh pie. What would you call still-warm pie?” “I think fresh is the correct term,” Mary Margaret says.

“Yeah, that makes sense, right?” “What are you guys doing here though?” Emma asks, pulling back to stare at Killian. “What happened to wanting to stay home?”

He shrugs and he’s clearly out of lying practice because his mind is blank save for his curiosity regarding the variety of colors in the bags Snow is holding and why Emma came up with the paperwork story when it was so obviously false.

She widens her eyes when he doesn’t answer immediately.

“There’s only so much reading you can do in one afternoon,” Killian reasons. “And not much food at home.” Henry yelps – out of surprise or disagreement or something, but he slams his lips together when three confused stares turn towards him. “Nothing, nothing, nothing, I mean...nothing. We should probably go though.”

They are a family of horrible liars.

“Go?” Emma repeats. The door to Granny’s is still open. She’s shouting about heating costs. “Where do you guys have to go?” “Home,” Killian and Henry say at the same time and he breathes a silent sigh of relief that they said the same thing.

Snow nods as if that’s the absolute truth, but Emma tilts her head, twisting to stare at both of them. It speaks volumes. “Did you two practice that or…”

“Back to the books, Swan,” Killian says. “This was just a break, right?” They’ve, quite clearly, reached another conversational impasse, but Emma is stubborn and Killian is vaguely determined and he’s not sure how much longer Snow can hold all of those bags before she does permanent damage to her fingers.

“So, uh…” Henry wavers. “We going to go or….” “Aye,” Killian says, pressing a kiss to the top of Emma’s head and she’s wearing one of those hats she’s so fond of when it turns colder. She twists to look back up at him, like she’s trying to read his mind or figure out who he’s spoken to that day. “I’d suggest the pie, Swan,” he adds, pulling his hand down to squeeze her hip and she nips at his lip when he kisses her.

“Our refrigerator is filled with food,” Emma whispers.

He’s fairly convinced his blood runs cold. Until he remembers.  He kisses her again before he speaks – because, at least in some things, he’s still a selfish pirate.

“I finished all the paperwork two days ago,” Killian says, resting his forehead on hers. “And we haven’t arrested anyone recently.”

He appreciates the way Emma’s eyes widen slowly, the words taking a moment to process and Snow hisses in a breath of air. Henry is halfway down the sidewalk already.

“I’ll see you at home, Swan,” he grins, turning to take a step and he nearly trips over himself when he feels a tug on the front of his jacket.

She kisses him that time.

“I’ll see you later,” Emma mumbles, the hint of a smile still on her mouth when she doesn’t pull away to talk.

She closes Granny’s door behind her when she walks into the restaurant, questions about apple pie lingering in the air behind her.

They have to circle through another alley because, for some reason Killian can no longer remember, they’re trying to do all of this in secret, but they make it to the jewelry store eventually and the dwarf that runs that particular shop because it can’t be part of the Storybrooke economy if a dwarf is not explicitly involved.

He’s sleeping when they open the door.

“Gods,” Killian groans and Henry slams the door closed a bit louder than necessary. The dwarf jumps off his chair, hands thrown into the air like he’s preparing to defend himself against some unseen enemy and he actually gasps when he sees who’s standing in the doorway.

“You really can’t threaten him,” Henry cautions. “We’ve got to actually buy something before we go home.” Killian nods, pressing his hand flat on Henry’s back and pushing him forward. The dwarf drops back onto the chair, yawning every other breath and this is already a disaster.

“Can...ah...can I help you Captain Jones?” he asks, drawing a snicker out of Henry. “Are you looking for something in particular for the princess?” In the weeks and months after the Final Battle, the majority of Storybrooke seemed to find some almost happy medium between their current selves and their Enchanted Forest selves, a change that left most of the population referring to Killian as Captain and Emma as Princess and it’s both jarring and slightly unexpected and it regularly makes Emma blush.

Killian blinks once while his brain tries to remember that princess is, in fact, the same woman who lied about paperwork and bit at his lip. Henry elbows him – if they don’t keep talking the blasted dwarf is going to fall asleep.

“We want to buy something for my mom,” Henry answers. “It should be sparkly.” “Or so we’ve been reliably informed,” Killian says, taking a step towards the cases in front of them and he can’t quite mask the disappointed sound that seems to fall out of him.

Henry hums in agreement. “Not very piratical, huh?” “I’ll admit I’ve seen more impressive treasure before.”

The dwarf almost looks offended, but it’s gone in a yawn and a few fluttering eyelashes and Henry raps his knuckles on the glass case. “What about a necklace? That red one’s not bad. It’d almost match the jacket whenever that decides to show up.” Killian considers that for a moment, examining the necklace through the pane of glass, but it’s not quite sparkly and the only necklace he’s ever seen Emma wear wasn’t for particularly good reasons. “What about ear bobs?” he counters and Henry lifts his hands in unspoken question. “Jewels for her ears.” “Earrings?” “If you say so.”

Henry rolls his eyes, tapping on the glass again. “Those ones,” he says, nodding towards the diamond pieces in the corner of the case.

The dwarf has fallen asleep.

Killian’s whole body sags forward when he groans and Henry can’t even bring himself to laugh over the absurdity of it all. It takes less than a full second for Killian to decide he’s tired of it all.

Not tired enough to simply fall asleep, but...that’s beside the point.

“You didn’t watch this happen,” Killian says, jumping over the small barrier just to the side of the case. The lock is relatively simple and it only takes a few twists of his wrist and two attempts with the tip of his hook until he hears the telltale click.

Henry beams at him.

The earrings aren’t really all that sparkly – even in the lighting of the shop reflecting off the stones as soon as Killian pulls them out of the case. He and Henry stare at them for what feels like several Christmases, but they don’t change or, suddenly, feel like the perfect gift.

He’s not so sure the jacket was the perfect gift either.

It’s a holiday disaster on a holiday he’s only slightly certain he understands.

“Yeah,” Henry breathes. “Doesn’t really scream, Mom, does it?” Killian shakes his head, disappointment settling on his shoulders like a particularly heavy fog. Maybe that’s what was lurking in the woods on the edge of town. “As much as I’d like to believe that your mother would be interested in receiving jewels as a gift, I can’t see her truly enjoying these...earrings?” Henry chuckles lightly, nodding quickly. “Earrings,” he confirms. “Yeah. It should be more...her. Especially from you.” “Exactly.” “Do you have a specific pirate-type curse for pirates who can’t find good Christmas gifts for their savior wives?” “I don’t,” Killian says, running his hand through his hair before returning the earrings to their spot in the case. “Unfortunately.” “I mean it’s kind of a specific emergency.” “That it is.”

Henry huffs out an exhale, closing his eyes lightly and the dwarf is still asleep. Killian considers his options and he’s going to have to just tell Emma about the apparent ignorance of whatever a distribution center is, but the feeling leaves him decidedly dejected and this is not the idyllic holiday he’s been led to believe Christmas is.

There are far too many films about it for it to be anything except perfect.

They deserve a bit of perfect.

Henry’s eyes open, flitting towards a gold strand, twisted into a delicately intricate pattern and, well, that’s perfect.

“We’ll leave the money,” Killian says, answering a question Henry hasn’t asked yet.

“What?”

He smiles, tugging on his back pocket to grab the clip Emma bought him when she realized he was actually carrying funds in a bag he kept inside his jacket. “Is there a tag on it? Or some indication of how much it costs?” “You don’t...you don’t have to do that.” Killian’s already pulling the piece of metal towards them, certain the tale of how red Henry’s face has turned will entertain Emma for most of the evening. “It’s done,” Killian says, tossing a wad of bills on top of the glass. “Should we leave a note?” “Probably.”

“Aye, you’re right. We don’t need all seven of the dwarves raiding our home later.” “That’s very practical.” They write a note on the back of a receipt they find stuffed into the corner behind the register an Henry adds a lot of exclamation points and underlines and Killian has, more or less, resigned himself to coming home empty-handed when he closes the door to the glass case.

It squeaks.

And he suddenly knows what he can get Emma.

“You look like you’ve just invented the lightbulb,” Henry says. “Or just realized how much we overpaid for that bracelet.” Killian shakes his head, mind racing and heart racing and this is going to work. “Neither. And we paid what we should have.” “So….what’s happening right now then?” “I know what to get Emma.” Henry’s eyebrows jump and his mouth turns down, lower lip jutted out slightly in a way that is almost too familiar. “How quickly do you think Marco can work?” Henry shrugs. “Probably depends on how much money you’re willing to overpay him.” “Plenty.” “And you know...if you tell him it’s for Mom he’ll probably do it for free.” “Come on,” Killian says, jumping back over the barrier and they leave the note with the still-sleeping dwarf.

They’re going to save Christmas.

[artificialqueens]

It's Not Personal, It's Fiction (Chap.3) (Biadore) - shadyqueenie

A/N: Hi cuties! I’m so sorry this took me a bit more but work’s a bitch and I still have to go to Uni so… I write mostly before sleeping :(

I have to say I was a bit… embarrassed, while I was writing this chapter? It has been ages since the last time I had a proper hookup… How do people flirt nowadays? (Let me know, really. I’m desperate) Thank you to all the cutiepies that wrote to me and supported me! Kisses! Your duh, shady

In this episode (?) ~ “My mother is from Cuba and my dad is from Honduras which basically means I have a large dick – no credit –  and a tendency to take things that don’t belong to me” she quoted perfectly. Bianca’s loud laugh echoed all over the pink room “You got impressed, didn’t you?”

IT’S NOT PERSONAL, IT’S FICTION

Danny started to feel the stress of the race. Well, to be fair his stress’ cause had a name: Laganja. One of his best friends suddenly turned out to be one of his bitter enemy. One day they were escaping from the hotel security and the next one they barely spoke to each other. Not that Danny cared about hearing that annoying ‘okurrrr’ two hundred times a day – but Jay didn’t want to listen to him, and her attitude became annoying. Adore couldn’t take much more of that and made it pretty clear during the eighth episode’s airing.  In the lounge Laganja was crying and screaming something like “I wanna go home”, and “I don’t care anymore!”, and when she exited the room theatrically Adore made no effort at reaching her friend. She kept her glance low while Laganja’s voice was well audible from across the backstage.

When Laganja got eliminated Adore breathed a sigh of relief. It was mean, she knew that, but Adore couldn’t help but feel comforted. The way her long time friend changed was really painful. But the whole situation made her reflect – did she change too? “Hey, are you ok?” Adore came back to realty when she heard Bianca calling her. Adore didn’t realized she sit still for more than fifteen minutes in the laboratory after the airing. She had to de-drag, and she had to do it quickly. “Yeah” she grabbed her make up bag and sit in front of the mirror next to Bianca. “Do you want to talk about the Untucked?” the older tried again “Not now” act cool, Adore thought, starting to whipping his make up off. They were the only two in the laboratory – why has she always to be the slowest?! “Which means you’ll coming to bust my balls afterwards?” Adore smiled while turned her seat towards Bianca “Was that true?”, she needed to change the subject – or she could have burst into tears. Bianca didn’t bother to stop removing her make up “What?” “My mother is from Cuba and my dad is from Honduras which basically means I have a large dick – no credit –  and a tendency to take things that don’t belong to me” she quoted perfectly. Bianca’s loud laugh echoed all over the pink room “You got impressed, didn’t you?” Adore just smiled nervously “let’s call it curiosity” tried to setting the tone by putting her make up remover back in the bag. “Well, I’m afraid but the only way to find it out is by seeing it with your own eyes” Bianca stole a glance at her friend before frowning. She suddenly cupped Adore’s chin with a hand and looked at her lips “Why are you always so sloppy?!” Bianca asked by wiping off the lipstick from her friend’s face. Her motion was slow and gentle, and Adore couldn’t help but stare at her dazed. “Emh… Cameras are off” was the only thing that Danny managed to say before turning bright red “Too bad for them” sighed Roy standing up “they missed a one of a kind”

After dinner, Danny started finally to relax when someone knocked at his door. Roy? He was extremely disappointed finding out it was only the producer, the one that proposed the fake flirt. “Hi Danny, are you busy? Can I bother you for a minute?” she waited for Danny shaking his head before continues “There’s a cab in front of the hotel. We need you to come back to the studios now.” “What?!” he opened his eyes wide. The last time he was called at the studios was when Roy and him started faking a flirt. Maybe they wanted it to be a threesome – Courtney? “Laganja wanted to clarify the situation. Can you please come back there? It won’t take too long” the producer’s tone was soft. She knew she was asking Danny too much, but they were tight on time – and she was sure one of them was going to cry in front of the cameras. Hopefully both of them. “It’s going to be pointless” he stared, crossing his arms “I don’t really want to waist my time like that…”. Danny didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the way Jay acted during all the season was incomprehensible to him. Talking to him at that moment seemed the worst idea ever – he was mad at Jay (but mostly, at Laganja), and that attitude of him wasn’t the right one he should have kept for a reconciliation. “But Jay’s your friend, right?” she tried to sounding him out “He’s not coming back to the hotel tonight… Is this the way you want to break up with him?” Danny sighed – why was he so weak?

As Danny forecasted, it borne no fruit. They just cried and said nothing. At least when the cameras were on. And the whole story left Danny emotionally drained. He couldn’t wait to come back to the hotel and drink everything he could find inside the mini fridge (which, to his credit, he has already left it empty once). “Ok guys, stop” said a cameraman “We’re not going to push you harder. You can go now.” and suddenly all the camera lights were off.  As Danny heard those words he stood up ad rushed towards the door. Jay’s face was red at anger for that behavior – he wouldn’t let Danny get away that way. “I got you.” Said Jay before his former friend could leave the room “I don’t know what happened. But at some point you started thinking that me and Gia were not worth your friendship anymore. I got it – being friend with Bianca Del Rio sounds more appealing. But a day or another you’ll have to come back to LA – and we both know she lives in New York.” Danny stopped as he heard his friend’s name. Eventually Jay has shown his true colors “Is that a threat?” “No, not at all.” He replied, making one of those faces Danny started hating since the first days of airing “Instead, a reminder. But if you’re sure that your friendship is magical then… I’m happy for you! I hate to admit it, but she’s really likely to win… it seems that you bet on the winning horse” Danny exited the room slamming the door. How dare him? Yes, Roy was his friend. And he was happy for that. Even if their friendship started in an unconventional way, he felt that what they had was pretty sincere. After that little debacle during episode sixth’s airing they have spent a lot of time together. He felt like Roy was different compared to all his other friends – he was calm, wise and balanced. Something that Danny (and Adore) wasn’t. Being friend with someone like him was unexpected him –  he loved how sometimes Roy was too harsh and yet he let Danny rest against his shoulder –  but at that point Danny was almost depending on. Danny felt like he didn’t need anyone’s approval but Roy’s – and that crept the hell out of him because, as Jay reminded him, at the end of the show they’ll have to take different paths.

Roy woke up as he heard someone knocking at this door. Looking at the alarm clock he realized it was 4a.m. Who the hell…? Danny. Dumb answer for a dumb question. He turned on the table lamp and went to the door, rubbing his eyes. As always, he was right “Danny, what the…” Roy suddenly stopped himself. As soon as he opened the door Danny lowered his glance, but even if the light was faint Roy could tell his eyes were swollen and red. He must have cried really a lot. “Look, I really want to go to a place and I want to go there with you… Can you please, please follow me? Without grumbling and stuff, ok?” he asked in a whisper, too tired to spoke properly. Roy wanted to tell him that he wasn’t his babysitter, that he was tired too. But then he remembered he saw Danny crying in the bus, and that he had a fight with one of his closest friend. Something should have happened after they said goodnight – something that hurt Danny really bad and that was his way to relieve his pain. He acted just as his age demanded – and Roy couldn’t blame him. “Ok, just let me wear…something” he chuckled, as he was wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. “Bring a sweater” was the only thing Danny said, but Roy could tell he was smiling. At least a bit.

“Wow, this like the ugliest terrace I’ve ever seen” noticed Roy. Empty and big wooden planter boxes and carpenter’s equipment were scattered all over the place. When Roy realized Danny and him were not going outside the hotel has he feared, but at the top of it, he imagined something fancier. Instead, there wasn’t a plant, nor fancy led lights or anything like that – it was at the limit of depression. Not even the crack of the dawn could have saved the setting “Why did you wanted to go there?” “Do you remember the last time we saw the city from a different prospective than the one we have from the bus?” asked Danny, proceeding to the balustrade. He looked at the lights of the skyline in front of him as if it was the first time. “The day before the race started..?” replied Roy has it was the most obvious thing in the world “Why do you always have to ask dumb questions?!” “You are the dumb! I was trying to be metaphorical or some shits like that” he stamped his feet as if he was angry, but he couldn’t hide the smile that appeared in his face as he heard Roy’s reply “You know,” he stared again “I saw Laganja” “Where?” “The producer sent me a car after dinner and they brought me at the studios. They filmed another drama between young queens” he tried to let it be of little significance, but the way he clenched his fist betrayed him “Fuck, I cried like a baby in front of the cameras– like, really a lot.” “They are pushing really hard, you should have known it “ “I do. But Ganj was one of my dearest friends and I cannot believe our friendship is ruined because of… this” said stretching his arms out   “He’s a dumb if he ruins your friendship because of this, and you’re smart enough to realize it” Danny nodded, his glance was still lost. He felt like he was about to cry again – maybe because of the cold breeze that pierced his face. “So, tell me. what was the point of this metaphor with the skyline?” Roy tried his best to cheer him up – but being supportive was not one of his best qualities. At least not when someone’s crying. Danny shook his head. He made a terrible mistake by talking about something he didn’t really want to remind himself “I’ve already forgot it. Maybe I wanted to talk about Jay. I was just trying to start a conversation without sounding pathetic” “Well I’m really sorry to disappoint you – but that was one of the most sugary things I’ve ever heard” “Ahhh, fuck!” Danny buried his face in his hands as he laughed nervously. He waited few seconds, then breathed “I mean. It felt like ages since we started this show. But it’s not. And I remember I met Ganj a week before everything started and she wasn’t the one you met in this race, I swear” he stepped closer to Roy and rested his elbow on the balustrade “How can something that lasts so short change us so much?” The older breathed deeply “This race feels like living in a bubble, don’t you think? We are here, and eventually we bound together. But we actually don’t know how we usually behave in our everyday life. I don’t know what you have done before entering the race, and you don’t know nothing about me. As far as I know, you can be a totally different person, and I wouldn’t mind – because in a certain way is reasonable.” Roy spoke slowly, eking every single word out “What I mean is that maybe someone’s trying to impress the cameras and not the other contestants – which is good. We’re not here to make friends. I don’t think I’ll keep in touch with most of the queens here – and it’s a common thought among all of us. After all, who wants to befriend with some of them?!” he tried to sound funny, but as he looked Danny’s worried face he didn’t feel like he had to add something else. On the other hand, in Danny’s mind Jay’s words recalled. Was Roy going to ditch him as soon as the race would end? Was he a completely different person in his everyday life? He cared about Roy, but after his monologue they didn’t seem to be on the same page. “You didn’t want to hear something like that, did you?” the older’s voice brought him back to reality. “Nah, not really” Danny made an unconvincingly smirk “Are you going to ditch me after the show?”  he asked uncertain. Roy laughed so hard Danny was scared someone might found them “That’s what bothers you?” “Kind of..?” “Ok, hear me out.I won’t ditch you. Pinky promise.” he took his hands’ in Danny’s and looked at him right in the eyes, but the youngest was so embarrassed for being such a drama queen that couldn’t look at him “Danny,” Roy tried again “I meant it. We will keep in touch and you’ll find out that I’m the same bitter, old lady you came to know here. What can I say to make you feel better?” Danny shrugged. He couldn’t tell Roy was sincere or not – he could just trust him. The only thing he knew at that time was that he needed to lighten the situation. Sighing, he was ready to break the promise he made to himself before entering the race “In a moment we will feel better” a sly smile peaked in Danny’s face as he put his hand in his jacket’s right pocket, and then he let out two joints. “What..? I go back on what I said – you’re not smart at all. First the club night, then this… Do you want to get banned?” this time, Roy really meant to sound too apprehensive. He wasn’t the kind of person who smoked regularly. Especially weed. He has never wanted to be labeled as ‘killjoy’, but he couldn’t find amusement in getting drunk and throwing up minutes before, or being so stoned he wouldn’t remember anything the day after. And he couldn’t lie to himself. The ‘I’m too old for this shit’ line (more like a mantra) wasn’t working with that, as he has never found amusement in those kind of entertainments – not even in his twenties. “No one comes here… Come on, old man!” Danny winked as he lighted one of the joints.

“Look, it’s almost morning” Roy wanted to reply, and he really tried his best, but he ended up coughing. Smoking didn’t fit his skills “Oh God, tomorrow I’ll look like a zombie. Or is it already today?” after throwing the joint butt away he covered his head with the arms. Danny smiled. Giving to Roy one of his joints was one of the best ideas he has ever had in days. Roy spent and hour giggling and talking nonsense, he was like a teenager with his first beer. That new version of Roy definitely knew how to make Danny feel better “Don’t worry, people expect elderly having bags under their eyes… Or in your case red eyes! What the fuck Roy, how can they be so red?!” “Oh well, thank you! Very kind of you!” They burst into laugh, and it was all the joints’ fault, but they couldn’t stop laughing. Danny rested his head in Roy’s shoulder, his laugh getting lighter. Weed had a strange effect on both of them – but while Danny was used to it, Roy felt as if the ground around him was shaking.   Taking deep breaths, he felt the urge to comfort (or at least trying to comfort) Danny again. Living this adventure with this young boy made him realize how much he liked being a reference point. Not for everyone, of course. He didn’t care about everyone as he cared about Danny. When he looked at him he felt the urge of protecting him, as if he was too fragile. And maybe, he really was. “I think I’ll say it only once, so listen well. I’m glad I didn’t give up with the story of the fake relationship. You’re pretty mature for your age, and you are smart. Don’t let people tell you otherwise. Especially the Laganja types. Ok?” he placed his arm around the younger’s shoulders and squeezed in sympathy, trying to catch his glance to make sure he understood what he has just said. As Roy touched him, a shiver ran down Danny’s back. He had only a few seconds to look at him before his mind went blank and decided to kiss him. It was irresponsible and Danny knew it by the moment their lips touched, but he felt broken and he was sure that his friend’s arms were the safest place in the world. His mind was wandering when he felt Roy’s hand in his shoulders, pushing Danny slightly away. In a handful of seconds he had to come up with a convincing explanation “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry” “Listen, Danny…” Roy tried to say something, but he didn’t really know how to continue. It was a strange feeling for him – he has always had the ready answer, but not in that occasion. Luckily, Danny came forward. “No wait, wait” he put a finger in his lips to shush him “You said that before. The ‘we live in a bubble’ thing. And I’m really sorry. If we were in a random club, I would have never kissed you. Not that I would have never wanted to kiss you but not in that situation and… can you understand me?” As Roy nodded, Danny continued “The point is that in the first episodes I really felt alone. It was a felling I was not used to. But then we started this thing and I’m really, really grateful – because from that moment on I knew I had you. And I don’t want to ruin everything just because you have the softest lips I’ve ever tasted and… Can I kiss them again?” What the fuck Daniel, his mind screamed. It was all the joint’s fault. Sober Roy wouldn’t allow it he thought to himself. But then he saw Danny biting his lower lip and, thank God, he wasn’t lucid “Will this become a habit?” “Probably” “And are you sure you understood the bubble story?” Danny nodded. “If it has to happen again not in front o f the cameras, nor in public places or in front of the other queens. Understood?” Danny nodded again, vehemently. “Then yes, you can.” “Like now?” Roy smiled while lifting his eyes and whispered a single “Yes”

[evenstevensranked]

#20: Season 2, Episode 14 - “Sadie Hawkins Day”

The Sadie Hawkins dance rolls around and Louis is expecting Tawny to ask him. He ends up blowing his chances with her by trying to seem desperately desirable to all the girls. He's left to go to the dance with Monique last minute.. and Tawny goes with some popular, shirtless dude Tad. Meanwhile, Ren’s stuck taking care of a pig. Seriously. So, let’s listen to some Relient K and get into the Top 20! 

This one opens with Ren getting everything settled for the upcoming Sadie Hawkins Dance. Of course she’s in charge of it. Who other than Vice Principal Ren Stevens? We see that a pig has been delivered to the school a day early, so Ren is now stuck taking care of it for the rest of the episode. Ren honestly deserves better plots. Like.. what the heck. Louis gets an entertaining, romance-y main plot -- and Ren gets... a pig. Christy Romano even said in an interview recently that working with this pig was a low point in her career, lol. Wow. 

A scene later, Tawny and Ren have a little conversation about the dance and Tawny mentions that she’s gonna ask Louis!! Yeeeee! She asks Ren if she’s gonna ask Bobby, but the melodrama strikes and Ren is all “That’s actually been over for a while...” EXCEPT!!! This episode initially aired the literal day before Sibling Rivalry, which is Ren and Bobby’s official break up episode. Seriously, Disney?! I will never understand why they jack up their airing schedules so bad. At least the order of my countdown inadvertently tackles these episodes sequentially! I’d also like to mention that Tawny says the idea of the girls asking the guys is cool, but states “I don’t do Hillbilly” with an air of disgust. I RELATE TO HER CHARACTER SO MUCH???

At lunch, 6 girls who have asked Twitty to the dance swarm him, anxiously awaiting his decision. This is one of those instances where you realize... Oh, right. Twitty is supposed to be cute and kinda popular even though he hangs out with the outcasts? Okay. Louis walks over with Tom and shouts to the girls “Hey, what’s up! I’m Louis!” The girls scatter and you hear one snicker “Yeah. No kidding! So what?!” HAHA. Louis is a little salty over the fact that not one girl has come “within 50 feet” of him, yet Twitty has 8 potential dates lined up. I think y’all know by now that if I were a student at LJH back in the day, I totally would’ve been that weird girl who asked Louis Stevens lol. Tom exclaims that the only other guy with as many offers as Twitty is Tad Taylor. Some popular dude we’ve never seen or heard of, who Disney clearly didn’t want to cut a check for because he never says a word. 

Twitty himself is shocked that the Sadie Hawkins thing has suddenly turned him into a “babe magnet.” Tom interjects “I’m like a lint magnet! I mean, how am I getting this stuff all over my trousers?!” *whips out a lint roller and gets to work.* Gee, I wonder why Tom hasn’t received any invites!! Tom doesn’t understand it either! “Why do all the really good looking guys with sparkling personalities get all the girls?!” he asks. Which is possibly one of the greatest lines in the entire series. Louis is left wondering the same thing! So, Twitty reassures him that no girls have asked him because they all assume that Tawny will. :)

Later that day, the guys are hanging around Louis’ locker when Tawny starts approaching. Twitty tells Louis “This is it! She was just makin’ you sweat a little!” and Tom says yet another gem: “Yeah, ya know. Girls are always doing that! ...................*cough* or, so I’ve read.” Tom seriously has SO MANY incredible lines in this episode. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through this review without quoting every single one. This is probably my personal favorite Tom performance ever. 

Louis royally messes everything up. Tawny was totally going to ask him, until he tried to be over-confident. “Yeah, I figured. You wouldn’t believe how many girls have been asking me out to that thing. Can’t keep their paws off me!” Since Tawny is the greatest ever, she’s immediately turned off and doesn’t ask him. Yaaaasss, gurl. 

Twitty: I said play it cool.

Tom: “Yeah, and you played the foooooool! ...Sorry. Ya know, I just like to bust the occasional rhyme.” -- I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW FANTASTIC TOM IS.

After school that day, the guys go to Louis’ house and spin a literal wheel of dates to help Twitty make a decision. We get yet another A+ Tom moment. “Big money, big money!” he shouts as it spins... and lands on DORIS!!! HIS FREAKIN’ MOTHER. The camera zooms in on her photo and it kills me. “Oh. *nervous laughter* Sorry. That... Must’ve fallen out of my wallet” is Tom’s excuse. I don’t even fully understand this comment or why the HELL Tom (or Twitty accidentally) would put her on the wheel to begin with, but it’s hilarious. Just because it’s one of my favorite moments, I have to gif it:

That zoom in is something straight out of The Office and Louis’ reaction is the best.

Just then, Donnie receives a phone call from a random girl who called to say he’s hot. Donnie tells Louis his appeal and ability to nab dates comes from giving off a “bad boy” vibe. Louis takes that information a little too far (as usual) and transforms into the most repulsive version of Louis Stevens ever: 

First of all: He’s burping here. Secondly: Yeah, Louis. Dressing like a total bum from Middle of Nowhere USA with a taped-on anchor tattoo and bag of cheese puffs is really gonna reel in the ladies.

Obviously, this attempt at being a “bad boy” did not work for Louis. It did, however, work for Tom. Who looks absolutely amazing!! haha.

“Hu hu hu, au contriare pierre!” he says as Gwendolyn, his date, appears. Are we sure this chick isn’t at least 30 years old? Is that part of the joke? No way in heck she’s in 7th grade. I always thought that was a little disturbing, lol. 

It’s weird because Louis is actually already a “bad boy” ...is he not? I mean, he’s not the stereotypical “bad boy” but it’s not like he’s a nerd. He’s always getting into trouble, always in detention, etc. I guess people like the idea and aesthetic of a bad boy instead of the real thing, ayyyy!

We get a montage of Ren trying to ask numerous guys to the dance but the pig keeps ruining everything for her. It eats one guy’s lunch, farts in front of another guy, and attacks some other dude. Which means that guy is really weak, or that pig is really strong: 

If this were a lame sitcom someone would shout “Aw, shucks! That darn pig!!” and the audience would erupt in laughter and applause.

Louis runs into Tawny in the hall and tries to apologize for acting stupid earlier by yelling "WHY DON’T YOU JUST ASK ME!!!!” assuming she hasn’t asked anyone else yet. Wow, Louis. Wow. But Tawny, being the badass that she is, tells Louis “There’s one little problem with your logic... I do have a date. Bye.” Yes. Just, yes.  Louis is left sulking on the floor when Monique approaches him. She’s trying to give him a bag of some pig food that Ren left in her locker, but Louis jumps to conclusions and is all “YESSS, I’LL GO TO THE DANCE WITH YOU!!” before she even says anything lol. Even though that wasn’t Monique’s plan, she agrees to go with him. So, in the end Louis basically asked a girl to the Sadie Hawkins Dance... that’s not how it works, Lou. 

That banner tho... “GALS GIT YOUR’N FELLERS for the SADIE HAWKINS DANCE!” 

CUT TO THE DANCE! Monique isn’t there yet. So, once Twitty and Tom arrive with their dates, Tom gives us his last great line of the episode: “I gotta say, we’re all a little worried about ya. Truth be told I had Doris on standby.” Louis is so insulted: “DORIS? YOUR MOM DORIS?! No, Tom. I’m NOT gonna go out with your mom!” -- The way Shia says this gets me every time. He informs them that he was “asked to the dance” by the head of the cheerleading squad -- Yeah, that’s a bit of a fib, Louis.. but I’ma let it slide. Louis thought he was going to the dance with a hot cheerleader.. but Monique shows up in full hillbilly mode.. complete with blacked-out teeth and everything. Meanwhile, Ren is stuck in the pig pen. She’s purposely dressed to kinda look like a young farm girl so this is one of the only times I’ve watched this show and thought “wow, Christy actually looks 14.″

Lawrence Jr. High is really dedicated to ~immersion~ I guess, because Principal Wexler gets up on stage and speaks in the most ridiculous southern accent. Like... I always wonder... How do people from the south feel about stuff like this? Wexler announces that the square dance caller for the night is STEVE STEVENS. Oh my freaking god. Steve is the best, hahaha. He pops up outta nowhere like “HOWDYYYYY” and a crowd of 30-something-year-old adult extras stare back at him, confused and unimpressed. 

Yeah, Gwendolyn probably is 30+ years old.. because apparently the majority of LJH students are grown adults. Either that or... Did these adults not get the memo that it’s a dance for middle schoolers? Why is no one concerned that adults are partying it up with 13 year olds? WHO LET THEM IN?! *shrugs* But, seriously. Disney couldn’t find some KIDS to attend the dance? Come on, now.

Monique invites Louis to square dance with her and Louis says "I'm not a square dancer, I'm more of a circular kinda guy." Idk I just kinda like that line. Tawny shows up with her date, the popular silent boy Tad Taylor. She and Louis spend their night trying to act like they’re having a great time without each other. Tawny is specifically trying to make Louis jealous and it’s pretty great. They give us these dramatic slow-mo shots of them dancing and glancing longingly at each other from across the room. I love it. There’s also a bit where Monique takes the call “Swing your partner round’n round!” a little too seriously and I can’t help but laugh: 

I will always be a sucker for a good obviously fake dummy gag. 

That crazy swing ends with yet ANOTHER Louis stunt double flying into (and destroying) the pig pen. I seriously never realized how many stunts happen on this show!! There has literally been a stunt every week of this countdown as of late! Anyway, the pig gets loose, runs to the principal’s office, and starts oinking into the intercom. That’s basically the end of the pig subplot. 

Louis is scarred from the twirling incident so he hides from Monique in a tiny, little pig house. For whatever reason, Monique looks for Louis in handfuls of hay! WHAT?! She literally holds some hay, looks at it and asks “Louuuuis???” I kid you not: 

WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY 

She eventually finds him, of course. Right around then Wexler announces that it’s hitchin’ time! While Monique excitedly asks Louis to go get hitched, Tawny looks on and decides to get hitched to Tad before them as a way to get back at Louis... and it works. He’s all depressed watching the two of them up on stage. Monique can clearly see he’d rather be with Tawny so she encourages him “Go get her, cowboy!” So Louis ruuuuuuns up there and interrupts the “wedding.” Which is something else that must be gif’d:

“If ya’ll wanna get hitched, say waaAHHH-HOOO!” I love how Margo is laughing as she shouts “waaaahhh” lol. That zoom in on her confused face as Louis runs up there is too good. 

Louis objects and claims “This whole wedding is a mockery!” To which Wexler says “Oooo! You’re a sharp tack, Stevens” as he points to a sign that says “Mock Weddin’s: 5 Cents.” That’s one of my favorite moments ever honestly.

Tawny pulls Louis off stage and out into the hallway where they end up having a really sweet talk where Louis admits to messing everything up. It’s so nice, complete with tinkering romantic piano in the background and everything, haha. I love their dynamic so much. So, yeah. They makeup and square dance the night away to royalty-free, generic bluegrass music. 

And that’s it!

I like this one a lot. Tom pretty much MAKES it, he’s so good here. I obviously adore the Louis/Tawny content as well. It’s just a fun and solid episode overall, imo. 

Question: Did your school ever have a Sadie Hawkins dance? I remember both Even Stevens and Lizzie McGuire (among other childhood shows, I’m sure...) had Sadie Hawkins episodes. So in Junior High, I remember waiting for my school to hold one but it never happened. For the longest time I was under the impression that Sadie Hawkins dances only existed on television. To this day, I still kinda believe that lol. 

Thanks for reading! Chime in via Disqus below please. :) 

Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Redbubble

[seriestrash]

You Me Her

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 ||

Chapter Fourteen: Your Thing

Word Count: 2753

↠ ♥ ↞

As per usual Abigail Adam’s High runs their production for three nights; Friday, Saturday and Sunday. The Wizard of Oz being no exception. After school that following Monday, the drama club members host an afternoon tea for everyone involved in the production to celebrate another successful show. This includes all cast and crew. 

Other than Ms. Mitchell, Riley is the first to arrive to the empty classroom assigned for all drama club meetings. The brunettes last class is a free period so she uses her time to help set things up for the afternoon tea. 

Riley makes a few trips between the cafeteria and the meeting space as the head lunch lady was kind enough to let Riley store some sweet treats from Topanga’s there. 

Riley’s removing the saran wrap from the trays as Ms. Mitchell praises her efforts as Dorothy for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Thank you.” Riley smiles sheepishly. 

“Of course the next play itself has yet to be chosen but you’d be the strongest contender for the lead.” The eccentric woman clasps her hands together. 

“Oh I’m not sure I will be auditioning for the next play.” Riley admits nervously.

“Nonsense.” Ms. Mitchell interrupts with a gasp. “You can’t go from being our lead to- to nothing at all. Especially since this is the last production before you graduate.”

“I think it’s best if I just focus on graduating right now.” Riley points an embarrassed smile at the ground. 

“You’re already in the final stages of being selected for the class valedictorian what more is there to focus on?” Ms. Mitchell blurts out.

Riley’s eyes widen. “I am?”

“Oh darn.” Ms. Mitchell huffs. “We’re not supposed to tell students until final grades are factored in.”

“How could I possibly be considered?” Riley asks in shock.

“Oh well I’ve already spilled the beans.” Ms. Mitchell swats the air. It’s like the woman had been holding this in and couldn’t any longer. “Miss Matthews you’re in the top five percent of all the students. You scored the highest SAT score amongst the entire senior class and you received six nominations for valedictorian from the faculty here at Abigail Adam’s.”

“But what about Farkle and Isadora?” Riley names her ex genius friends. “Surely they're the top one percent of all students.” Riley felt desperate almost to not win. 

It was only a little over a week ago that she got her official SAT score back. An assembly was held in the gym and since the school doesn’t post who scored what they only read out the top five results and then students can ask for their own ranking afterwards. It was there that Riley was shocked to find out she scored highest. Kai was seconds away from making a scene when Riley hushed him not wanting that attention. That same afternoon at the bakery Lucas showed up as he had been the past month and he was joined along with Farkle and Isadora. Upon their arrival Riley overhead Farkle being huffy about something. 

“Third? Third!?” Farkle exclaimed. “This is ludicrous I tell you!”

“Honey, you were only one point off second.” Smackle said in a reassuring way as she tugged at Farkle’s arm for him to join her in the little seat nook by the book shelves. 

“Yes but I always expected to be bested by you my beloved.” Farkle smiled. “I want to know what chump beat you? Was is Todd in AP Biology, I swear I-” 

“SAT scores have him all riled up.” Lucas appeared in front of Riley and she realised he caught her staring at the geniuses. “Did you do as well as you hoped?” 

“I did okay.” Riley shrugged nonchalantly. “Better than my practice scores so that’s a win.” It wasn’t a lie. She did do better than her practice test but Riley still wanted to downplay the truth. 

It’s with Farkle’s disappointment fresh in Riley’s mind that she remains adamant of graduating quietly. 

“They are indeed being considered as well. Those are two very bright students.” Ms. Mitchell nods. “But as are you Miss Matthews, you shouldn’t dim your own light in order for others to shine.” She gives Riley an all knowing look. “…And I’d appreciate if you kept this little secret I shared with you a secret.”

“You got it.” Riley nods, her mind reeling at this new information.  

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Lucas wraps his knuckles on the wooden frame of the door. “I have a free period so I thought I’d come by and see if there was anything I can do to help.” 

Riley never thought she’d be so happy for Lucas’ persistence but it seems an awkward chat with him was far more appealing than Ms. Mitchell’s pressing and praising. 

“I have a couple more trays in the cafeteria if you wouldn’t mind helping me get them?” Riley asks. 

“Sure.” Lucas nods and the two go on their way. “You look like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.” He chuckles quietly when they’re a safe enough distance down the hall. 

“There are no more trays.” Riley admits with a frown. “I feel bad for lying but Ms. Mitchell can be very intense sometimes.” 

“Riley Matthews, a liar?” Lucas is all goofily dramatic. “I just don't know how my mamma’s going to feel about you corrupting me so close to graduation.” 

“It was a tiny white lie.” Riley says defensively. “Plus you’re the liar, Mr. ‘I have a free period’.” Riley uses a funny voice and exaggerated air quotes. “I know for a fact you should be in class right now.” 

“You keeping tabs on me?” Lucas smirks. 

“Pfft.” Riley rolls her eyes. “I only know because the last time you ditched class - that I know of - was during my free period which is right now so the school schedule would work that you have a class you’re skipping again.” 

“Okay Nancy Drew, you caught me.” Lucas chuckles. 

“You really should stop skipping class.” Riley mumbles. “Just because the college application period is over doesn’t mean it’s time to slack off, final grades still count ya know?” 

“I’m sorry we can’t all be valedictorians.” Lucas nudges Riley’s arm playfully with his shoulder. 

Riley’s eyes widen and she turns to Lucas with a slight scowl. 

“So I might have eavesdropped a little before I made myself known.” Lucas holds his palms out defensively. 

“Lucas!” Riley’s scolds but breaks her hardness with a light giggle. 

“I can’t believe- well I can believe,” Lucas corrects himself before continuing, “That you scored the highest on the SATs. That’s amazing. You made it seem like you only did okay...” Lucas shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “I really have to stop believing everything you tell me.” 

Both of them tense up awkwardly once he finishes his last sentence. Lucas meant it lightheartedly but it made them both think of their conversation after the winter formal.  

“You can’t tell anyone.” Riley holds her finger out as a warning trying to brush off the tension. 

“Why not?” Lucas knits his brows. 

“For a start we’re not even supposed to know about it and it’s not like it means anything to me... I just feel like I’m stealing this from people who clearly want it more-” Riley stops and shakes her head. “I haven't even got it so I don’t know why we’re wasting time talking about it.” Riley closes that conversation topic quickly. 

After walking around aimlessly the two settle on the floor with their backs up against some lockers outside an empty class room. 

“So you’re not going to audition for the next play?” Lucas shuffles into a comfortable position.

Riley knits her brows for a moment and then gives Lucas a quizzical look. “Just how long were you eavesdropping for?” 

“Pretty much the entire time.” Lucas laughs. 

“Waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and be the hero?” Riley coaxes her head knowingly. 

Lucas taps his chin with his index finger before waving it in the air. “You’re not wrong.” 

“White Knight.” Riley taunts lightly. 

“What’s so bad about being protective and waiting to help people?” Lucas questions. “As I recall you would never give up trying to solve a problem if it was one of our friends in trouble.” 

“Well they’re not my friends anymore.” Riley thinks bitterly to herself. “But wanting to look like a good guy isn't the same as actually being one.” Riley says aloud.

“That’s what you think of me?” Lucas is clearly offended. Riley knew of his rough past and he thought she understood how he genuinely wanted to be better than that. 

Riley is quiet for a moment and reminds herself to not let others negative opinions of Lucas cloud her own judgement which clearly she already had. “No... I don’t know..” Riley sighs. 

“It’s okay.” Lucas points his gaze forward and tries to change the subject. “So are you really trying to focus on graduation or was that excuse baloney?”

“I don’t know.” Riley admits. 

“You don’t know if you were lying or not?” Lucas raises a brow.

“Stop calling me a liar.” Riley huffs. “I really don’t know. I have loved being in the plays, I’ve loved sharing this with Kai.. Being Dorothy felt amazing, like I was really pushing myself out of my comfort zone but I don't feel consumed by it..”

“It’s not your thing.” Lucas nods in understanding. 

“My thing?” Riley questions. 

“Yeah. You know like the thing you're most passionate about.” Lucas elaborates. “I like sports and there’s the whole vet thing, Farkle and Smackle are science enthusiasts, Zay loves his dancing and art had always been..” Lucas trails off. 

“Maya’s thing.” Riley finishes. “You can say her name Lucas, she’s not Voldemort.” 

“I thought you were too scared to watch Harry Potter?” Lucas brings up yet another mention of life before the triangle, he refers to a time in middle school where they all wanted to have a marathon but Riley kept insisting they watch something else. 

“Kai made me.” Riley shrugs. “And in my defence those giant spiders in the second one were awful.” 

“You have a point.” Lucas rolls his head forward with a laugh. “So if it’s not the drama club what about the newspaper?” Lucas backtracks.

Riley thinks carefully before speaking. “I have loved the working on the paper too.”

“But?” Lucas squints his eye. 

“But nothing.” Riley says defensively. “Maybe I just don’t have a thing.”

“You’re holding something back.” Lucas states. 

“Am not.” Riley remains defensive. 

“Yes you are.” Lucas insists. “You’re doing that face you do when you’re holding something back.” 

“What face?” Riley squishes her cheeks with her hands. 

“You have this look you do the moment you decide to suppress an emotion or not say something big.” Lucas explains. “I didn’t exactly know what it was until just recently but it makes sense. Maybe if I worked it out earlier it could have saved us a lot of trouble a few years ago.” 

“You don’t know me Lucas.” Riley is snippy because she feels vulnerable. 

“I will not deny your change over the past few years, Riley but in the same respect you can’t deny that I did know you and at our core we are the same person even with great amounts of personal growth.” Lucas says. “You also can’t sit with me and talk but then shut me down for trying to get to know who you are now. I understand I have no right to complain but it’s just... frustrating sometimes.” 

Riley is quiet for a moment. She did know she had every right to act however she liked with Lucas because of how he sprung this all on her and with how persistent he is but part of her knew it was unfair to be so hot and cold all the time. Riley knew Lucas was right, she can’t lure him into conversation and then shut him down every time she feels afraid. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing but it had to be nothing if she wasn’t ever willing for there to be an all. 

Riley sighs heavily realising how much she clearly upset Lucas. Not thinking too much about it Riley takes a deep breath before mumbling a truth. “I wrote a play.” Her murmur was too quiet for Lucas to understand. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Lucas turns to her for clarification. 

“I wrote a play.” Riley mumbles a little more clearly. 

“You wrote a play?” Lucas almost exclaims. 

“Not so loud.” Riley hushes.  

“What about?” Lucas questions. 

“I’m not telling you that.” Riley shakes her head. 

“Can I read it?” Lucas asks. 

“Absolutely not.” Riley laughs nervously. 

“So play writing is your thing?” Lucas smiles. 

“Maybe.” Riley shrugs. “I’m not sure.” 

“Riley.” Lucas coaxes his head with a slight frown. 

Riley lets out yet another sigh and decides to give Lucas the answers he wants. “Fine. Maybe it is my thing.” Riley shrugs and avoids eye contact as she opens up. “I loved being in the plays with Kai and I loved writing for the newspaper. After I started the newspaper I began writing other things like little short stories and then the more time went on things changed. I liked writing so much that my love for the plays and the paper only really came from my love of Kai and Caitlin.” 

“So you decided to write a play?” Lucas has trouble connecting the dots. 

“Don’t get me wrong I loved being Dorothy and I love The Wizard of Oz but part of me felt like maybe we could use these plays to say something... more.” Riley folds her arms to her chest. “I don’t know okay, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I’m embarrassed.” 

“You shouldn't be.” Lucas smiles sweetly. “I think that’s really cool and if you think it might be your thing you should work at it. See where the road takes you.”

Eventually, the bell rings and it’s only moments later that chatter of students flows through the halls. Riley lets out a sigh but it’s Lucas who gets to his feet first. The Texan hovers above Riley and holds out a hand offering his assistance. Riley looks at it for a moment assessing what it would mean if she took it. 

“Come on.” Lucas waves his hand with a sigh. “I’m just trying to help you up. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me.” 

Riley’s eyes roll but only slightly and she wasn’t even sure if it was at Lucas or herself. Riley extends out her own hand and lets Lucas help her up. His motion wasn’t rough but his yank was forceful enough to make Riley stagger into his chest as Rliey’s trying to find her footing Lucas adds a smug, “Not yet anyway” to the end of his marriage remark. 

“There you go again.” Riley shakes her head with a sigh. The brunette tenses hers fingers in the air and walks away, leaving Lucas behind.

“What? What I do?” Lucas asks trying to catch up, he’s weaving through other students on their way out of class and to their lockers. 

“You go from zero to a hundred in a snap.” Riley doesn’t bother to wait for him to be beside her again, nor does she turn around to look at him. “You take a normal moment like the eating cookies in the library or helping me off the floor-” Riley stops when Lucas’ hand grabs her shoulder, she spins around to face him. “And then you drench that moment in gasoline and throw twelve matches at it.”

“Twelve is strangely specific.” Lucas squints an eye. 

Riley lets out a frustrated groan and continues marching down the hall. “You have to take things slower. There’s ninety-nine numbers before one hundred for a reason.” Riley calls back. “Here I am freaking out at the transition from three to four whilst you're up there in the high eighties.” Riley knows she’s taken the analogy way too far but she was already past the point of no return with her rant. 

Lucas stops for a moment and watches Riley enter through the door leading to the drama clubs afternoon tea, she's still shaking her head but Lucas can’t help but smile. Whether she meant to or not, Riley had implied that things were progressing- that she wanted them to progress, just slower. Feeling extra hopeful Lucas follows Riley inside. 

↠

End Notes: So this chapter was originally going to be longer (as in including more time gone by in it) but I decided to finish it here as it’s been forever since I updated last. In the next chapter - which hopefully won't be too far away - I will include the rest of what I planned to be in this one. THEN after that we will finally get to prom! I am sorry for taking so long and then not delivering exactly what I promised !!! sdkjgh

[karma-khaos]

Rough draft to my short film.

Fade in:

 EXT. Driveway- Dusk

GARRET, American mutt, mid 20’s, revels in dark humor, nihilistic commentary, and self-destructive behavior, refuses to cope with pain in a healthy manor, preferring to charge into impulse decisions with reckless abandon. Smalls sparks of his previous “happy” life style are quickly over cast by self-proclaimed pathetic despair. Dark when he doesn’t want to be, desperately wants this chapter to end.

[GARRET is walking up his drive way as he answers a phone call from his friend JOHN asking about the party.]

J: So dude, did you end up hooking up with that girl the other night at the party?

G:What girl? You know I never remember anything from nights like that.

J: That dime piece in the little black dress that was basically eye fucking you all night.

G:yea, not ringing any bells man, I honestly don’t know why you even bother asking my shit like this at this point.

J: Nah, you’d remember her, that girl was like a goddess.

“well im flattered, but goddess seems like a bit much.”

[As GARRET enters his room he see a beautiful girl sitting on his bed]

G: uh John, what exactly did that dime piece look like again?

[JOHN proceed to describe the girl sitting on GARRETS bed perfectly]

G: yeah, I got to go man, somthings popped up.

S:It’s Sam in case you forgot, obviously your little fuckboy friend did.

G: Um, what are you doing in my room?

S: I’m hurt. But if you need a reminder Garret, I’m here to help you end it all.

G: uh huh, ok yup. Look sweetie you got the wrong craigslist ad but it’s all good, I’m sure this shit happens all the time, so just let me get the door for you aanndd…

[as Garret turns around to get to open the door to his bedroom Sam suddenly appears in front of him]

G: woah what the fuck?!

S: You might not remember it but I’m here to help you end aaalll your suffering because you’re the one begging for it.

G: ok, ignoring whatever the hell just happened you’ve still got to have the wrong guy, you’re making it sound like I just wanna blow my brains out and I’m not interested.

S: oh poor baby.You might not be deepthroating the barrel of that little revolver you have buried in your sock drawer, but with the habits you’ve picked up the past few months…you’ve done nothing but cry for help. Just look at the damage you’ve put your body through.

All the drugs…

[Flashback to montage of GARRET doing various drugs]

Taking anything and everything  people offer you just try and pick yourself up out of a whole you dug self into. You start rolling away and dive head first into self-destruction, and for what? When it’s 4am, and your all alone high as kite driving the streets she’s never going to invite back over to vent on her front steps again.

[GARRET has a subtle hint of pure shock on his face, just trying to process details to memories he thought he didn’t have anymore.]

All the drinking…

[Flashback to montage of GARRET binge drinking]

Your poor liver. It’s only been maybe 6 months but I doubt your BAC has come down to a legal limit once has it?

Your friends…or at least the ones you have left must think you’re one of those real cultured hipsters with all you know about liquor.

But we know the truth, don’t we?

The only reason you know so much by now is because nothing works forever.

The rum won’t get you through the day anymore, the whiskey won’t help you sleep, and all your stories with tequila don’t end so cathartic, do they?

So now you just try to forget. By any means you can, you just drink and drink till every night’s a black out and every sunrise has to be met at the bottom of a bottle because alcohol poisoning sounds more appealing than facing your fucking problems.

[GARRET sits down on the bed, now visibly unable to comprehend how someone he thought was a stranger knows so much about him.]

[SAM seductively walks over to the bed, clearly with motive, mounts on top of GARRET and begins to whisper into his ear]

And the women…

[Flashback to montage of GARRET bringing different women back to his bed, like the way SAM is taking GARRET now.]

You can’t fill the void she left in you by filling up every girl with pretty face that smiles your way.

What was your plan?

Was fucking your friends supposed to make you feel better?

Was fucking HER friends supposed to make you feel better?

All the random little trollops you’ve found weren’t going to magically replace her.

But I suppose I can’t blame you, with a dick like that I can’t imagine id do things any differently;)

[GARRET pushes SAM off of him and gets up off the bed to finally confront her]

G: Alright that’s enough! I get it! I’m fucking bastard. And you clearly get that I’m a obvious mess too, so what the hell do you want?

S: I told you baby, I’m here to end all this pain you’ve been feeling.

[SAM’s eyes suddenly turn pitch black]

You see Garret, you swipe right enough on tinder and eventually you run into a girl like me. All I want is fulfill every fantasy you can imagine so that for a night you can forget all about your pain.

G:yea well you sound like a robot on tinder.

S: Perhaps, but I’m the real deal.

G: the real deal comes with a catch, so what is it.

S: No catch here, it’s a win/win.

G: Bullshit.

S: You get to have me; however you want for whole night and then a few days later I end all your pain. Then I move on to the next one, win/win.

G: stop being so vague and just fucking tell me!

[SAM erupts, cracks form around her eyes and mouth, manicured nails transform into talons]

S: I’m here for your soul you ignorant little heathen!

[GARRET now terrified on the floor in front of SAM]

G: Then….the why are we even having this conversation? Why didn’t you just kill me when I walked in?

[SAM now attempting to calm down]

S: Because, your different.

I’ve done this so many times and it always plays out the same way.

I look for the heart broken man, their the easiest prey.

They tell me their sob stories, I brighten their miserable lives for a night, and then I come back a few days later to simply take what they no longer value. Their soul.

And most of the time it’s not hard because they’re usually begging me to come back.

But you, oooohhh you. You’re an anomaly I just can’t get out of my head.

Sure there are men that hurt than you,

but your despair is like an intoxicating cologne I can’t escape.

The regret I taste on you is something I can’t resist.

The air around you is dark but greets me with a warm embrace.

Your pain excites me to no end,

But it’s this faint, awkward little glimmer of hope you don’t let anyone see that really gets me.

You force yourself to suffer with every moment you get to yourself, every time you picture her face.

But you don’t want her back.

G: I just want better for her…

S: But why?!

I can’t count on 1 hand how many women I can thing of who deserve a man like that and yet her you are just throwing it at her every day.

She only showed you compassion when it was convenient,

She was emotionally distant,

She was just using you for sex because, and I quote “You’re the only one who knows how to fuck me right.”

And to top it all off she cheated on you.

G: Yeah, and my emotionally wrecked response to that is really what ended that relationship.

S: A relationship she didn’t deserve!

Look, im supposed to come back here and just suck the life right out of you and move on.

But I want to offer you a deal instead.

Be mine,

Show me the endless passion you’ve shown this girl.

And I’ll help you forget.

The pain is like a scar and it never truly fades but I can make you forget her name,

Let you move on.

[GARRET stands to his feet and lets the choice weigh on him]

G: So all I have to do to keep my life, and spend the rest of eternity fulfilling all my fantasies with a smoking hot demon is let you make me forget her?

S: that’s right, anything you want.

G: well in that case,my answer is…..

No.

[SAM recoils from GARRET’s response]

S: are you fucking insane?!

G: yeah obviously.

S:This isn’t some indie art house short film!

You don’t get some magic award for being the most depressing, self-destructive glass cannon in the room!

G:This is simply who I am, and I’m tired of making decisions based on what other people think I am.

You’ve painted me in a dark and pathetic light But you need to get your fucking fakes straight.

I’m not some broken little play thing that needs to be rescued and fixed.

I may not have made the right choices to cope with my problems but they we’re still MY choices and I CHOOSE to live with them.

So you can take your offer and shove it up your ass.

[SAM licking her lips now]

S: MMmmmm, I would have let you do it had you chosen differently.

[SAM grabs GARRET by the throat, suspending him up against the wall]

What a shame, the good ones always make the worst decisions.

[GARRET smirks, as if somehow, he’s one a battle with his inner demons.  Camera fades to black as SAM’s claws swing toward GARRET’s throat.]

[aniallstory-blog]

Chapter Thirteen

Charlotte and I met when I was ten years old which meant that when my mum died she was there for me every step of the way, just as much as my family were. She saw the tears, the breakdowns, the weight loss from not eating and the stress that came from the fear of going through life without my mum to guide me. Her heart broke for me and this led to her trying to help in the well meaning, but often misguided way that teenagers do. She bought me a pack of cigarettes.

“I tried to get a bottle of vodka, but I kept getting asked for ID and I wouldn't have a clue where to buy marijuana so I stole these from my brother.”

That was her explanation. Apparently she'd seen someone chain smoking on the telly when they were anxious about something so she figured it might help ease my tension. At first it was awful, it tasted horrible and burned my throat, but I was desperate to try anything that might ease my pain so I stuck with it until I finally understood the appeal. It became a pretty regular habit whenever I was down or in a bad mood, but my dad caught me just after my eighteenth birthday (a few months before I met Niall) and forced me to stop. It was never something I relied on too heavily so quitting wasn't that difficult for me, but it was still something I tended to turn to at times of extreme stress.

Which is why I found myself sitting on my dad's porch the day after I'd arrived in Holmes Chapel having a cigarette. I'd just finished and was about to head back into the house when a very familiar range rover pulled up in the driveway behind mine.

My forehead scrunched up in confusion, but my heart fluttered with relief when I saw Niall step out of the car and I instantly launched myself down the drive, practically tackling him when I threw my arms around him.

“Whoa, Ava,” He chuckled, stumbling backwards to keep his footing. “I missed ya too, love.”

I kept my face buried in his chest, knowing that as soon as I said a word he would notice the tears that had burst out the second I saw him, but my fingers clutching into his shirt like I was scared to let him go ever again soon gave me away.

“Are ya cryin'?” He asked, his face covered with concern as I pulled away slightly to look up at him, revealing my damp cheeks. “What's the matter?”

“I'm just,” I paused to sniffle and attempted to pull myself together. “I'm just overwhelmed, it's been a hard month and I'm so glad you're home. Why are you back early?”

Niall stared at me for a moment, trying to figure out what was really going on as he clearly saw right through my only partially true explanation.

“Came back for Ariana's show in Manchester tomorrow,” He explained. “Ya weren't home when I got there and yer phone kept going straight to voicemail so I called Charlotte and she said you came here for a few days.”

“I just needed to clear my head for a bit, get away from the city, ”I informed him as I wiped my eyes. “I forgot I have spotty service up here, I should've checked my phone more. Sorry, Ni.”

“S'fine,” He assured me, worry still etched on his face. I wasn't surprised, I hadn't cried at one of our reunions since we first got together when I wasn't used to the distance or time apart.  “Why do ya smell like smoke, love?”

My cheeks flushed slightly at the fact that he caught me, knowing he didn't approve of my self-medicating with cigarettes. It was slightly hypocritical as he had been known to have one occasionally on a night out, but he claimed that using it as a crutch was different than enjoying it with friends.

“I've been stressed,” I mumbled, burying my head back into his chest to hide my embarrassment. “I only had one.”

I felt Niall's grip on me tighten just a tad.

“Stressed? Just about us? C'mon, love. Whatever issues we've had this last month isn't worth starting all that up again, is it?”

There was a slight hesitation in his voice and I could feel a new, anxious vibe radiating from him.

“No, no, it's not just that!” I rushed to assure him, peaking out from his chest to look up at him again. “I, uh, I read some stuff online.”

Niall relaxed slightly at my confession, but still felt tense and concerned.

“What kinda stuff?”

“Bad stuff, mean stuff, stuff that says I don't deserve you and you could find someone so much better for you,” I admitted, feeling more tears well up in my eyes. “It's not wrong either. For once they're just a little bit right. I acted like a brat before, throwing a fit because we couldn't get married exactly when I wanted. You deserve someone more understanding than that, someone who supports you all the time, not just when it fits in their life and-”

I was about to continue my self-deprecating rant when Niall interrupted.

“Ava, stop it. Ya had every right ta be upset with me,” Niall assured me. “And jealous girls on the internet and their opinions don't matter t’me. If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you. I don't care what they think ,they don't know us. I've told ya that before.”

I blinked back my tears, giggling slightly at his comment.

“Did you just quote your own song?” I asked as Niall smirked and nodded. “You're a dork.”

“But I'm your dork,” He chuckled, placing a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Now let's go talk inside, yeah?”

I pulled away from him and reluctantly nodded.

“Can we cuddle while we talk?” I asked, keeping hold of his hand as I walked towards the house. “I have cramps and they always feel better when we cuddle.”

Niall rolled his eyes slightly at my claim, one I made almost every month to guilt him into giving me extra cuddles during my sensitive time of the month, but nodded his head.

-

“You've had a tough week, huh?” Niall asked, referring to my current discomfort and the things I'd read online. I was curled up on my bed after changing into a comfy, loose dress while Niall brought me some paracetamol from the kitchen.

“I have,” I pouted as I took the pills and the bottle of water from him and quickly swallowed them. “But it was my own fault. I know better than to read the stuff they write online. I just knew they must have picked up on the tension between us and couldn't squash my curiosity.”

Niall crawled on the bed, adjusting my pillows before leaning back against the wall and putting his arm around my shoulder.

“Well ya shouldn't take any notice of what they're saying, none of it's true anyway,” He assured me as he kicked off his shoes to get comfortable. “But I might have an idea that will brighten your week up a bit.”

“Yeah?” I asked, intrigued by what his idea might be.

“I got the schedule for the tour the other day and there's a four week gap in October. Perfect amount of time for us to get married and enjoy the honeymoon.”

I pushed myself out of his arms and looked at him, a frown on my face.

“October? Really, Ni?” I questioned, wondering for a moment if he'd completely lost his mind. “How on earth are we going to organize a wedding in three months?”

The smile on Niall's face dropped and he looked at me with confusion in his eyes.

“Four months,” He corrected. “And a month ago ye were desperate to get married and mad that we might have t’wait and now ya do want t’wait? Not sure m'followin', love.”

I sighed and tried to squash the annoyance that was bubbling in my chest.

“I didn't want to wait two years,” I explained. “But four months is no time to organize a wedding. If you'd given me that date a month ago when I asked for a timeline then maybe we could have made it work, but I can't see that happening now.”

“I didn't know a month ago, I just got the tour dates the other day,” Niall defended himself. “And that's the best I can do. It'll be chaos after that and I can't say when I'll be free again.”

I felt the anger I'd managed to get past over the last month rise up again when I was once again faced with Niall's my way or the highway tone, but the look of dejection in his eyes helped keep my temper in check.

“We'll never get a venue in four months. The place we wanted will definitely be booked and most likely everywhere else will be too.”

I wasn't trying to be negative, but it was a reasonable objection.

“We'll get married at the house. There's plenty of space there, maybe in the garden if it's nice, and we can use the money we'd save renting the venue on the decorations,” Niall suggested, showing he'd put quite a lot of thought into this. I was mulling over his idea when he sighed and spoke up again. “Look, Ava. If we get married in October then I can help with the planning whenever I'm here and I'll have time to do some things even if I'm travelling a bit over the summer, but if we just pick a date and demand they clear my schedule then it could end up being in the middle of a world tour. I have no issue flying back from wherever I may be, but you'd be stuck doing all the work and I'd be whisked away right after our honeymoon. M'trying me best here, love.”

“I know you are, I appreciate that,” I assured him. “I'm just trying to think of all the logistics, that's all.”

“I've thought of them all,” Niall boasted with a smirk. “Don't see a single reason why it wouldn't work. Might be harder than if we waited, but we can do it. Was thinking October third? Harry has a break from the first to the fifth and my last show is on the first so we can both get home in time and Harry won't have to rush off right after the ceremony.”

I smiled at the fact that he'd even gone so far in his planning as to check Harry's schedule too and ran through a list of things we'd need to do in my brain. He was right though, it would be difficult, but if we didn't need a venue there wouldn't be anything we couldn't do in four months.

“Okay,” I nodded after a moment of thought, a grin slowly sliding onto my face. “October third it is then.”

A smile burst onto Niall's face and he instantly pulled me back into his arms, pressing his lips against mine. It was intended to be a quickly, celebratory kiss, but as my hands tangled in his hair and his arm around my waist pulled me closer to his chest it quickly grew steamy. The month we'd been apart suddenly flashed into my brain and I was reluctant to pull away especially as he let out a quiet little groan of enjoyment.

When we finally did separate a few minutes later, our lips were both swollen from the pressure. He looked adorable, all weary eyed and dishevelled and my heart soared at the knowledge that he would be my husband in four months.

“I can't wait, Ava,” Niall smiled down at me. “And I swear it'll still be as big and beautiful as you want it to be.”

I shook my head and placed another soft kiss on his lips.

“I don't care about big and beautiful, Ni,” I insisted. “As long as our friends and family are there with us to celebrate we could just get married in the kitchen in our pyjamas for all I care.”

Niall laughed and pulled me against his side.

“Not a chance, love. M'dying to see ya all dolled up in a pretty white dress for me.”

I smiled at his words before playfully letting out a groan and resting my head on his shoulder.

“Oh god, if we're getting married in four months then I'm going to have to go to the gym six days a week to get in shape in time,” I whined. “It'll just give those fans of yours more reasons to criticize me if I look like a whale in all our wedding photos.”

Niall's shoulder jostled my head as he chuckled.

“Ya could never look like a whale, love,” He assured me. “But here,” He shifted off the bed, grabbing his phone from the nightstand as he went. “If yer still worryin’ about them, I'll post something to put them back in line.”

I frowned and shook my head.

“It won't make a difference,” I pointed out. “Some of them will still hate me no matter what you do.”

“They're just jealous,” Niall insisted, holding his phone up to take a picture. “Now, pose.”

“No!”

I looked away, hoping to deter him, but he simply moved to the end of the bed and snapped his picture.

“Perfect,” He smirked, typing away on his phone. “October third,” He mumbled under his breath. “Can't believe yer gonna be my wife on October third.”

I couldn't stop the smile that burst onto my face as I reached over, took his phone out of his hand and pulled him back onto my bed to resume the celebratory kissing we had started earlier.

[fuckyeahwintershock]

Author Spotlight: Anogete

This week’s spotlight shines on a relative newbie to our little corner of fandom, but she has a record THREE nominations! @dresupi, @fudebusho, and @pieannamay all recommended her which made @anogete a popular choice indeed.

Here’s her thoughts on the ship:

01. What about Wintershock as a pairing appeals to you?  

Where to begin? They’re just lovely together. They play off each other extremely well.  Initially, I viewed Darcy as a tool to bring Bucky out of his shell.  He’s been damaged by his time with HYDRA, and her lightness, irreverence and easy-going way of caring pair well with someone who is suspicious and bottled-up.  She wouldn’t smother him or make him feel obligated to give more than he was able.  While I still think all of that is true, I also believe that Bucky has plenty to give to Darcy.  I think her flippant demeanor hides someone who has insecurities deep down, someone who doesn’t think she’s important enough for someone to be serious with her and only her.  He’d be wonderful at dispelling those insecurities and making her realize she’s worth his undivided attention. There is a weight to his personality after all he’s been through that I think would connect well with her.

02. How did you first encounter the pairing?

I had seen the two Thor movies and and the first Avengers one years ago.  At that time, I had dabbled in reading Loki/OFC fics, but had difficulty finding the quality of writing I wanted to read (though I’m sure there are some out there). I gave up and wandered out of the MCU fandom. Recently, while reading some Kastle (Karen Page/Frank Castle) fic on AO3, I noticed there were quite a few Steve/Darcy fics.  I hadn’t really paid that much attention to either of those characters when watching the three Marvel movies I had seen.  I started reading Shieldshock and found really excellent writing.  At that time, I avoided all Steve/Darcy/Bucky because I didn’t know who the hell Bucky was.  ;-)  I finally ended up reading a fic (which I have since lost and searched high and low for) that involved Steve and Darcy dating and Bucky being Steve’s lonely roommate who has a huge crush on her.  You’re all going to think I’m crazy, but it wasn’t until then that I looked up a picture of Bucky and ended up with a gif of the murder strut and was like, “YES, BITCH, THAT.”  I jumped into Bucky/Darcy immediately.

03. Do you have any specific Wintershock headcanons?

Darcy having a little bit of a thing for bad boys and a history of dating really shitty guys who are terrible for her, which makes Bucky perfect since he’s a good guy who has a little bit of the bad boy edge.  Bucky being touch-deprived and Darcy’s easy-going and touchy personality playing off that need of his. Steve being a total romantic and wanting to set his best friend up with this ballsy woman who kind of intimidates him because he thinks she’d bring out the old Bucky. And that when you put Bucky and Darcy together and add sex, they’d both be super playful and have fun with it.

04. Do you associate any particular songs with Wintershock? If so, which one? 

I have playlists for fics when I write them, and I listen to the songs over and over again while I write.  While I associate those songs with those fics, not all of them fit so well with the pairing general.  If I had to pick, I’d say my favs for the pairing are Under the Influence by Snoh Aalegra, ...goingtohell by Miguel, To Be Alone by Hozier, and Alabama by Night Moves.

05. What Wintershock fic by someone else would you recommend to others to read? What about this fic appeals to you?

I feel like I can’t completely do this question justice because I haven’t read as much Wintershock as many others.  Shortly after finding the pairing, I sequestered myself and starting writing. I avoided reading other people’s take on the pairing at that time.  However, of what I’ve read, I have a preference for sexual tension and smut, so… Captain Bucky by SerialObsessor is fantastic because I love the premise of Bucky filling in for Steve and there being misunderstandings on top of misunderstandings with sexual tension and sweetness all over the place.  Tasers, Soliders, and Captains, oh my! by DriannaHarper has really amazing, realistic dialogue that I can actually hear in my head in the characters’ voices.  A Real Dick Move by meleedamage is hot as all get-out, but also tinged with humor and cuteness. Also, if I can break the rules a little bit, I loved We’ll Never Get Started by becisvolatile, which is WinterShieldShock. The Bucky in that fic has probably had the most influence on how I write him.  Realistic, flawed, and sometimes a little too proud or self-hating to admit that he wants/deserves affection/love.

06. What kind of Wintershock story would you love to read that hasn’t been written yet by you or others?  

I’m constantly amazed at the innovative imaginations of the writers in this fandom, so there isn’t much that I’d want to read that isn’t out there and available.  That being said, I’d love to see more fics that address Bucky’s PTSD and how Darcy helps him overcome it or deal with it. I’d love to see flirty stuff where Darcy’s bravado and BAMF-ery slips in a moment of self-doubt and Bucky swoops in to show her just how awesome she is, preferably without clothing.  Just the usual fun stuff, you know.  ;-)

07. Out of the Wintershock stories you’ve written, which is your favourite, and why?  

I love both my Wintershock fics, but I’m very attached to Better Than Okay because it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written and writing it was emotional for me.  I don’t have personal experience with PTSD or depression or any of the crazy shit Bucky’s been through, but I wanted to write a fic that  honestly addressed them in a realistic way, but was still very much a romance.  I didn’t want to play up the fantastical elements like the super solider/hero thing or the HYDRA danger lurking around the corner.  I just wanted it to be a simple story about how he struggled with and overcame suicidal thoughts and self esteem issues to fall in love with and accept the love of a woman who is the perfect fit.  And I think I accomplished what I set out to do.

08. Quote a favourite extract from one of your stories. What is it that you like about it?

Hmm, I really enjoyed writing chapter 9 of Better Than Okay because it was a brief interlude where Bucky and Darcy connected in a way that was completely without sexual tension or even physical attraction. In a way, that chapter was more intimate and a bigger leap in their relationship than the sex the next morning.

He swallowed the emotion blocking up his throat. “I can’t have what I want, doll. But that’s okay. I’ve made peace with it.”

“What do you want?”

“I thought I told you what when we were talking in my bed one morning. To be happy.”

“What would make you happy?” she asked, her eyes so serious they made him uncomfortable. Darcy wasn’t serious. She was flirty and funny and flippant. Irreverent.

You, he wanted to say. You would make me so happy. “I don’t know,” was his verbal answer. His bald-faced fucking lie. “Are you happy?”

She glanced over at him and then looked up at the curving rock above them. “I am right now.”

“But in general.”

“That’s harder,” she replied. “Sometimes it’s easier to just find those moments when nothing is wrong and try to hold onto them.”

“And this is one of those moments?”

“Yeah. Don’t you think so?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“See. You’re happy. Right here, right now.”

He nodded again. “I am.”

“That’s something.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were far away. There was something going on in her head and he desperately wished he knew what it was. Was she thinking about him?

“Yeah, something,” he agreed. Something he thought he’d never be able to say. That he is happy right here and right now. Everything is perfect in this moment. The little bench sheltered by high walls of rusty rock, the spicy brown mustard mixing with tender turkey and soft bread, the bite of carbonation in the sugary-sweet soda, the quickly cooling air and subtle breeze across the hairs of his right arm. The woman sitting beside him. Most of all her. This moment wouldn’t be perfect if that wasn’t her sitting there next to him.

Thank you @anogete!

And this is the time where I do a Madonna and get down on my knees. We’re out of nominations, folks. If I don’t get new nominations, I can’t keep the Spotlight going. It’s so easy - all you have to do is send a message to the blog or me (@latessitrice).

(nb: If you’ve nominated someone and they haven’t appeared here it’s because I’ve not been able to get in touch with them to get them to take part. Some people appear not be that active anymore).

[pumpkinpetals]

Beauty Is Found Within

Chapter Eight

Beauty & the Beast Malec AU

Summary:  Alec asks Magnus for something but the Warlock ends up having to reveal his reasons for working with Robert and Maryse.

Quote:  “Tentatively, Alec allowed himself to look at the Warlock again and he found himself admiring...”

Warnings: There is a homophobic slur in the 10th paragraph.

Read on AO3 here.

Enjoy my little croissants!

An hour later, Alec was starting to fidget. He had always prided himself on that fact that he was a patient man but, because of his parents, Alec had no idea how long he would have to wait.

Magnus sashayed back into the room. The Warlock had been working on some kind of…thing in the corner of the living room but Alec didn’t have the nerve to get up and look. After he had been caught snooping in Magnus’ room, the Shadowhunter wanted to wait until he had explicit permission to do something before he did it.

Several magazines were fanned out over the coffee table. They were all brightly coloured and there were at least five pairs of shoes staring up at him.

Hesitantly, Alec leant forwards and opened the one closest to him. He was met with an article about ‘embracing your true self’. Alec’s eyes scanned the page briefly and he found that it was encouraging the reader to change their hairstyle or eyebrows or fashion choices. However, that didn’t stop the Nephilim from glancing up to where Magnus was bent over an ancient looking desk.

Alec found his eyes moving to the floor automatically when he realised he wasn’t at the Institute anymore. Tentatively, Alec allowed himself to look at the Warlock again and he found himself admiring the soft yet strong line of Magnus’ shoulders and the way his arms filled his purple shirt.

 Alec had always been aware of his attraction towards men. When he and Jace first met, he found something appealing about the way the other boy stood, the way his jaw seemed to harden as they got older. Of course, he didn’t feel that way about Jace anymore. Something about Jace’s constant pursuit of girls in their hormone-raged years had made him unappealing. Alec truly believed he wasn’t been obvious when he stared at the occasional boy he thought was pretty or interesting. His parents still found out that he was gay when Izzy, unbeknownst to their homophobia, commented on it over dinner.

Robert and Maryse sent him to an extreme training camp in Idris for eight months. It was supposed to exhaust him so much that he would forgot he liked boys.

Needless to say, it didn’t work.

Izzy sent him a fire message every day, apologizing for outing him. When Izzy turned fifteen and started ‘fraternizing’ with the Downworlder’s, their parents summoned Alec home and kept him under lock and key.

In his first week back at the Institute, Alec had smiled at Raj and Raj had broken his nose and called him a faggot. Because of this, Alec had learnt to keep his eyes in one of three places: the floor, the ceiling or the wall.

 “Hey, pretty boy.” Magnus’ voice bought Alec back to the present and he looked up from the floor to the Warlock.

“What?” Alec said. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh but Magnus brushed it off.

“I’ve got to let this sit for a while. Do you want to do something?”

Something deep within Alec desperately wanted to say yes but the words tumbled past his lips before he could stop them.

“You’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than babysit me.”

This made Magnus frown.

“It’s hardly babysitting. You’re what, nineteen?”

“Twenty.”

Magnus smiled.

“See, a fully grown adult.” Something flashed behind Magnus eyes but he spoke past it. “Now, we can watch a movie, we can have a pillow fight, we can play strip poker, we can dance, I can give you a make-over, you can…well, what do you like to do?” Magnus sat down on the other side of the sofa and stared at Alec. The Shadowhunter squirmed under Magnus’ appraisal.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly and tried to look at something without being weird, “I like to read. I’m good at fighting. There’s not exactly a lot of room for extracurricular activities at the Institute.”

Magnus put his elbow against the back of the sofa and rested his head in his hand.

“Well, is there anything you’ve wanted to try that we can perhaps make possible inside of my apartment?”

Alec’s eyes went to Magnus’ lips for half a second before resting on the Warlock’s eyes.

“I wanna see Izzy. I know I can’t leave but can you just show me her or something? When our parents find out that I swapped places with her they’re gonna be insanely mad and I can’t do anything until I know that she’s alright.”

Magnus’ lips pressed together but he nodded and stood up. He disappeared into a cupboard in the hallway and returned with an ornate, silver mirror about the size of Alec’s head.

Magnus handed the mirror to Alec and the Shadowhunter was surprised by its weight.

“What is this?” Alec asked and Magnus sat beside him, less than five inches between them.

“It was enchanted by a friend of mine called Ragnor.” Magnus said and Alec felt a sudden burst of bravery.

“You have friends?”

Magnus scoffed and reached out towards the mirror, placing his hand softly over Alec’s, and bringing it closer them both. He let his hand drop back to the sofa and it sat in the space between Alec and Magnus’ legs. Alec’s heart stuttered.

“Look into it and say what you want to see. If I’m not touching the mirror, I can’t see whatever it might display.” Nodding, Alec tilted the mirror so that he could see his face and then said,

“Isabelle Lightwood.”

The reflective surface of the mirror turned to black and then, slowly, the image of Izzy faded into view.

 She was pacing around her room, her hands curled around her whip so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Her make-up was smudged and she had discarded her heels carelessly by her door.

 Relief filled Alec and he slumped back, letting his eyes close and the mirror rest on his lap.

“I take it she’s alright?” Magnus asked and Alec let a wide smile fill his face.

“Yeah. She’s in her room. She’s angry and upset but she’s alright.”

Alec felt Magnus’ hand on his again and the Shadowhunter’s eyes shot open. However, Magnus merely pulled the mirror from Alec grasp and held it with both hands. He murmured something low and then green mist seemed to seep out from between his fingers. After several long seconds, the magic melted away into Magnus’ skin and the Warlock opened his eyes. He turned to look at Alec and the Nephilim saw that they were his cat-like ones.

“Your eyes.” Alec said before he could stop himself. Magnus turned away quickly. Alec’s hand shot out and rested heavily on Magnus’ forearm. “No, I just meant, why do you change them?” Magnus looked back to Alec and for the first time, Alec saw hesitation on the other mans’ face.

“Not everyone is as accepting as you, Alexander.” Alec almost choked on his own tongue.

“Ho-why…why did you call me that?” Magnus blinked slowly.

“I looked into your parents after they came to me with their demands. I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be so different from them.”

Alec felt his knee begin to tap nervously and quickly adjusted his leg so that it was outstretched and couldn’t move.

“Well, you’re different to how I expected too.”

Magnus tilted his head.

“What did you expect?”

“I thought that if you were working with my parents to imprison Izzy, you must be…I dunno, dark and creepy I guess.”

“Alec, I didn’t…your mother and father gave me no choice. You have to bel-”

“Why did you do it?” Alec cut Magnus off, asking the question he had been thinking about ever since the Warlock saved him.

Magnus placed the mirror on the coffee table and stood up, Alec’s hand falling to his side. He paced around the room until he was standing in front of the balcony doors and finally stopped, placing his hands on his hips and turning with a morbid expression on his face.

“My friend, Caterina, is a Warlock like myself. She’s very adept at healing and has a much more nurturing disposition than most. A few decades ago, she bought a large estate and had made it into a safe home for young Warlocks.” Magnus ran a hand through his hair, messing it up, and sighed heavily.

“I know first-hand what it’s like to be unwanted and so I always offer her a helping hand if need be. When your parents came with their demands, I said no straight away.”

“What made you change your mind?” Alec asked, praying to the Angel that his parents didn’t do what he now suspected.

“They knew about Caterina’s house and, even though it’s not dangerous, they said that they would burn it to the ground if I refused. Your father said that they would pretend Caterina was training the children to fight against the Shadowhunter’s and overthrow the Clave. I couldn’t let them do that, Alec. You might not understand but I had to protect them. I didn’t count on you being the heroic big brother. I thought Isabelle would be an impossible, bratty teenager and it would all be worth it.” Magnus shook his head and, to Alec’s surprise, kicked the wall beside the balcony doors.

“I do understand.” Alec said. “Thank you for telling me. I…I thought that you had done it for money or out of hate or something.” The Shadowhunter paused for a second before rushing on. “And even though it was my parents who threatened your people, it makes staying here easier. Because it’s like I’m doing it for the Warlock’s or something, if that makes sense?” Magnus nodded and was about to speak when the mirror on the table caught his eye.

“Oh, I changed the spell on that, by the way. If your sister is in mortal danger, it’ll start glowing. I’ll portal you to her in an instant.”

“Thank you.” Alec said, wondering how many more times the Warlock would do something for him. Magnus sat down on the sofa again.

“Now that all that mess is out of the way, what do you want to do?”

Thank you for reading! <3